Los Angeles' John Tejada is a producer's producer, a versatile creator of electronic music, a prolific studio rat who maintains unfeasibly high quality-control standards, and a phenomenal techno, house, and hiphop DJ. He almost seems too good to be true. Does Tejada have any flaws?
One always risks coming off as hyperbolic when writing about Tejada. Born in Vienna to an orchestra-conducting father and an opera-singing mother, Tejada was genetically destined to make music, though his parents must be surprised at their son's development into one of the world's foremost electronic musicians.
Tejada first came to my attention with 1997's Plug Research & Development compilation. His track there under the Mr. Hazeltine moniker blended in with the Plug Research's roster of quality left-field techno. It didn't prepare me for 1998's Little Green Lights and Four Inch Faders (A13), though, which reflects Tejada's reverence for Detroit techno's pell-mell glide, marauding momentum, and soulful shimmering melodies.
Because much of Tejada's material is vinyl-only, digital-oriented listeners are advised to catch up on his Palette wax output with Backstock, on which Tejada mixes 20 of his tracks in a killer set of accessible underground techno. Luckily for these folks, Tejada's two 2003 albums are available on disc. Recorded with long-time collaborator Arian Leviste, Fairfax Sake (Playhouse) is a lush, melodically sophisticated house opus in the classic warm Playhouse mode, but is weird enough at the edges to snag Perlon fans. The track title "Harmonic Turbulence" captures Tejada and Leviste's vibe here. The Toiling of Idle Hands (Immigrant) finds Tejada in linear tech-house mode, but he drapes his expertly rendered 4/4, 124 bpms with camera-shutter clicks, warped burbles, and other quirky embellishments.
As if he weren't busy enough, Tejada started a band with Japanese guitarist Takeshi Nishimoto called I'm Not a Gun. Their second album, Our Lives on Wednesday (City Centre Offices, 2004), is a pleasantly pastoral post-rock/IDM mongrel that sounds like a sprightly Tortoise. It's a brave tangent, but perhaps not the ideal vehicle for Tejada's talents.
No matter the genre explored, though, the quality of Tejada's productions is higher than most. Many of his compositions bear a jazz-fusion sheen, an upscale aura that speaks of studied chops, but everything's crucially dusted and warped with an underground head's instinct to avoid cheesy obviousness.
There's a good reason why Tejada 12s take up permanent residence in smart DJs' bags: He can make crowds move while enabling jocks to maintain their dignity. It's highest uncommon denominator dance music, and there's enough of it to build marathon-length sets.
After witnessing Tejada's devastating performance at last year's Decibel festival, I implore you to catch him this time around. He plays Saturday, June 11, at Trinity (111 Yesler Way). Opportunities to watch a master in his prime are rare.
