Robin Stewart - Time Travel

1 Dec

The brainchild of Harry Wright and Robin Stewart, Giant Swan has been tearing up dance floors circa 2010 with what should be, by now, a patented punk-infused clinical abrasion. Giant Swan's incredible self-titled album Giant Swan burst onto the scene in 2019. It’s a raucous and phonetic industrial journey into the most abrasive and energetic dance music many of us had heard up to that point. Giant Swan combined dubstep, drum and bass, techno, and of course, industrial into one cohesive killer collection; if you've not heard it yet, seek it out.

But this is not a gushing on Giant Swan but rather a delve into one of my favourite projects from Robin Stewart, Time Travel (2020).

Time Travel strikes me as an indie sci-fi project full to the brim with creativity and ingenuity. It really feels like an A24 film, stylised and with a dark beauty. It's pirouetting around horror through oppressively gloomy atmospheres and unsettling off-kilter grooves. Stylistically, it fits with dub techno but incorporates many more experimental ideas. Stewart perfectly balances maximalism with strict minimalism, creating cavernous environments for his work.

The first untitled track of the EP initially beds in this idea of space. As vocals clatter into existence, "Notice me," delayed flooding the space. Repeating, bouncing, and reverberating for what seems like an eternity. Slowly fading into the black void. Coupling this with a descending bass that is rich and plump yet so raw. It leads you further and further into the mix, actively pulling you into the abyssal darkness.

That bass motif is carried forward into the rest of the EP. 'Eat Grass' puts gut-wrenching bass overflowing with saturation on full display. Stewart fully explores the intricacies of rhythm and timing leaving the whole track feeling slightly off. There's an uncanny vibe to how it loops, as though the tapes have been cut too short. Stewart does a great job of injecting a little interplay between these slicing hats that come about midway through and the rest of the lower groove. Creeping sirens and industrial roars are filtered in, sounding more like the screeching of the night train, obscured by darkness.

Stewart demonstrates how perfectly you could intertwine heavy and in-your-face drum programming within such vast environments. The track 'Your Workings' exemplifies this idea, melding elements of SHXCXCHCXSH's organic techno with a much gloomier inner-city industrial attitude. The track kicks you in the face with bass flowing into kick and back again. Swirling delays make up the foundation on which Stewart adds flourishes of steel drums. Is it a classy move, if you ask me?

Closing out the record sees the maximalist edge of Stewart's creativity come to a head. 'Not Buoyant' features aggressive pulsations like jackhammers peppering the low end. A harsh, reverberant static whip cracks indiscriminately. It feels hostile, yet soothing due to these ice-cold synthesised pads. It becomes a beautiful ending to such a mind-melting EP. The percussion drops out, leaving chunky bass playing against buoyant pads, floating away into nothingness.

Tracklist: