In 1999 and early 2000 I first became deeply interested in electronic music and dove in deep. I fell hard for classic trip-hop beat masters like DJs Krush, Shadow and Cam. The intense psychedelia and world-groove-dub of Shpongle and many Twisted Records artists blew a hole in my mind. I loved the meticulous digital throb of IDM and glitch-hop and rode the wave of iconic releases by Ninja Tune (Amon Tobin, Coldcut) and Warp (Boards of Canada, Plaid). On the journey I discovered a short-lived American magazine called Grooves that unlocked the door to a boutique IDM label from Belgium, U-Cover Records.
I stumbled across Ten and Tracer, or Jonathan Canupp, an American producer from Boulder, Colorado by listening to samples that left me drooling for more. Heavily into the alluring magic of Boards of Canada, I set out on a mission to find other artists who might be pairing similarly dream like atmospheres with digitally dubbed beats. Ten and Tracer’s 2002 debut, An Hour Brighter undoubtedly owes a significant debt to BOC’s 1998 masterpiece Music Has the Right to Children. Amazingly able to evoke a similar nostalgic and melancholy feel, Canupp deftly recreates and re-imagines BOC’s mystical warmth. His pulse between precise, thick, and glitchy drum patterns and moody interludes feels both organic and fully realized. This is headphone chronic.
“Aurora Reflect” eerily breathes of softly landing aliens, inquisitive and curious. The title reflects Canupp’s ability to navigate the extraterrestrial stratosphere from his suburban Colorado home as Aurora is a suburb of Denver but of course recalls the awe-inspiring feel of the Borealis. Canupp appeared to be a young producer with his mind in the codeine clouds and his heart dropping digital voltage. Little fluffy stacks of Rhodes pads float atop sturdy fields of precision grooves. Beats manage to click and pop with slow burning gusto with enough pulse to support woozy head throbbing.
“Yellow’s Home” is a sweetly effervescent track with synth lines that feels like the affectionate hug of a grandmother. “Lions” barrels forward with neck snapping snare hits and that indescribable hybrid of triumph and wistfulness. This plaintive and lush dichotomy is Canupp’s calling card as he manages to be forceful with his beats and tastefully radiant with his tender atmospherics. Deep, dark bass tones are melodically wrapped in vast synth strokes, giving the music a serene, cosmic glow. Ambient interludes inside the longer tracks contribute to an organic flow making the album often feel like one sustained statement. “No Magic Martin” exemplifies this resoundingly vintage yet extraterrestrial album with its skitter-pop beats and filtered analog tone. On a whim Canupp can drop the icy strut of “Ever Go Rolling”.
While over the last nine years Ten and Tracer has released nine full-length albums on a myriad of labels and is always busy dropping tracks on compilations and his sound has pulsed into new avenues since 2002 Canupp’s most fully realized statement may be the day he came out swinging with his debut, a confident and celestial journey.
