The title may double as a maxim for Kaidi Tatham’s profession: Don’t Rush the Course of—an encapsulation of the producer and multi-instrumentalist’s decades-long immersion in his singular proclivities. For the reason that mid Nineteen Nineties, Tatham has been one of many central pioneers of damaged beat, a method of stripped-down and bugged-out beat music solid within the furnace of the West London underground that emphasizes syncopated drumbeats and heavy basslines. He’s a former member of manufacturing collective Bugz within the Attic, and his session and remix catalog contains Slum Village, Mulatu Astatke, Marcos Valle, and Henry Wu cuts. However Tatham’s solo profession has elevated in velocity since he discovered a house on First Phrase Data, an organization that believed in him sufficient to reissue 2008’s In Search of Hope—his debut solo file underneath his personal identify—a few years in the past whereas additionally overseeing a rising sequence of LPs the place he extends the borders of his sound.
Don’t Rush the Course of is Tatham’s most expansive file but, reaching far past his broken-beat origin story to include boogie, disco, growth bap, bossa nova, and shades of Thundercat. There are dreamy harps, Jon Brion-sized strings, choir samples. Tatham’s omnivorous music locations him alongside British contemporaries like Kamaal Williams, Joe Armon-Jones, and Tenderlonious. However by underpinning the preparations with neat, programmed drum loops—in addition to protecting the mission shifting with beat-tape brevity—Tatham’s productions nonetheless really feel extra insular than lush. Don’t Rush the Course of is a headphones album that you could nonetheless throw on on the cookout. It’s instrumental music with melodies that may keep put in your temporal lobe for days. Tatham showcases his versatility with cohesion and focus.
So that you get a track like “We Chillin’ Out”: With its repetitive piano development, upbeat horn riffs, and cosmic keys, it’s an Earth, Wind & Hearth-esque slice of Seventies disco. The candy ba-ba-ba vocal harmonies of “Knocknee Donkey” invoke Sergio Mendes & Brasil ’66. The title observe is constructed out of the form of squelchy synths and bass that might give a lowrider its bounce because it cruises L.A.’s boulevards. (The palm tree within the background on the sleeve certain isn’t depicting Tatham’s hometown of Redditch, simply south of Birmingham.)
Amid the extra skittish beat cuts—just like the grubby, Dilla-worshiping “Funky Idiot”—Tatham indulges his style for jazz. On “Any Flavour,” his brisk piano play is matched with a outstanding bassline and hand drums that give it a bit of Latin swing. He tinkles the keys over ethereal samples on “Runnin’ Tru.” In reality, there was room right here for extra soloing—there’s nothing fairly as fervent as his enjoying over, say, the second half of 2016 quantity “The Shadow Ain’t Going Nowhere.” However pull the viewfinder again to a wider angle and witness a prolific veteran presently devoted to shifting away from damaged beat—or every other straightforward style signifier—with aptitude and focus. Greater than two and a half many years deep, Tatham is in a brand new groove, and it’s anybody’s guess the place it could carry him.