ASC

(This article’s English version was produced with AI-assisted translation)

After twenty years of steady four-on-the-floor kicks, many producers now seem eager to explore new formulas to express an emotional spectrum that, in the end, remains faithful to itself. It recently happened with Brendon Moeller, who, after a career in dub-techno, chose (successfully) to immerse himself in a bath of minimal DnB. And now it's happening to ASC, the alias of James Clemens, author of fifty albums released mostly under this moniker, but also through various side-projects dedicated to more IDM-driven productions.

Emotional depth remains the core of his work. It’s a sonic fabric in which the ambient undercurrent surfaces everywhere – even within the most dense and oppressive beats. ASC is, in fact, one of the key figures of deep-techno: that intersection of minimalism, dub, and ambient-techno aesthetics explored by artists like Donato Dozzy, Claudio PRC, or J.S. Zeiter. But the four-on-the-floor path seems to have quieted, at least for now. Last year’s collaboration with Aural Imbalance (one of the two minds behind Deep Space Organisms, a seminal 1990s ambient-progressive project) marked a shift towards a more atmospheric take on jungle – here expressed through the legacy of Good Looking Records: it’s impossible not to feel the imprint of Seba & Lotek (“Say It”).

ASC’s is a sensitive reinterpretation of well-defined codes. If 1990s drum and bass sounded like a message from the future – more so than much of today’s music – James Clemens reshapes those paradigms into an intimate, rarefied, dreamlike refuge (“Eons”): the amen-break is once again the undisputed protagonist, wrapped in introspective arpeggios, like an Adam F or Goldie caught in mystical reveries. It’s still ambient music, but with a different pulse (“Timeslides”). At times, the rhythms become hushed, perhaps even too much so (“Fear Of The Deep”); elsewhere, they shimmer like light seen from the ocean floor (“Lightspeed”). The echo of L.T.J. Bukem resounds in tracks like “Nightvision,” which stands out for its delicacy and grace as a true gem of the album.

Still, this may well be just a temporary chapter, and the tireless producer could one day return to the paths that have always defined him. Few innovations, many bold statements: each in its own way compelling, even if – despite their intensity – they don’t add much to a language that’s already fully matured. But quality doesn’t lie only in innovation; it’s also found in care, in dedication. And that’s exactly what invites a deep, contemplative listen.

04/07/2025