Pearson Sound, Panabrite, Tommy Four Seven
PEARSON SOUND AND ZED BIAS'S LOW-END HIGH JINKS
British producer David Kennedy played/slayed in Seattle on January 5 as Ramadanman; now he returns under his Pearson Sound handle to wreak havoc once again on the Baltic's improved sound system. The Hessle Audio boss is known for his labyrinthine rhythms and sophisticated sound palette in the future-bass petri dish of experimentation. Amid all the brainy beat convolutions and exploratory textures, Pearson Sound infuses a soulfulness that keeps things from getting clinical. England's Zed Bias (aka Maddslinky, aka Dave Jones) was a prime mover in the UK garage and broken-beat scenes, which were forerunners of dubstep, the genre that's destined to infiltrate this fall's Jock Jams compilations. But Pearson, Zed, and billmate Distal keep it (sur)real and underground. Expect nothing less from cosponsors Decibel and SunTzu Sound. Baltic Room, 9 pm, $12 adv/$15 DOS, 21+.
THE FUTURE'S SO PANABRITE
Panabrite (Seattle keyboardist Norm Chambers) works in the hazy, analog-synth-laden zone between kosmische drift and new age waft. Such artists tread a fine line between sublimity and schmaltz, but Panabrite confidently steers his armada of tones to the former state. On releases like Contemplating the Observatory and Wizard Chimes, Panabrite launches beatless symphonies of fibrillating, smeared whorls and drones that make you feel like the star of a weird nature documentary or a sci-fi blockbuster from 1977. Chambers excels at evoking both the intimate and the epic with his scrupulously wrought arpeggios and ostinatos. There's something of Vangelis's grandiose melodic sweep, too, in Panabrite's expansive compositions. One track from Observatory is titled "Shimmering Pinnacles," and it's the truth. With Garrincha & the Stolen Elk, Megabats, and Summon Thrull. Josephine, 9 pm, www.myspace.com/thejosephine.
TECHNO ALBUM OF THE YEAR ALERT
Just wanted to deviate from protocol here to say that Primate (CLR; www.clr .net) by Berlin-based British producer Tommy Four Seven is an astonishing minimal-techno album constructed entirely from field recordings; no synths or software were used. This unorthodox method produces a raw, brutal strain of dance music whose textures come off as frighteningly other. Harrowingly intense and hypnotic, this handmade hunter-and-gatherer-style record should be scoring Gaspar Noé's next film, if he knows what's good for him.