Powell - Sport

You can’t fault Oscar Powell for trying something different. The darkly humoured, almost troll-like producer has been crafting increasingly challenging dance music for the best part of a decade, drawing influences from the most experimental of post-punk and the headiest of techno. He most famously “broke the internet” with a Billboard of an email rant he received from Steve Albini on club culture, and news of his debut album ‘Sport’ arrived via emails he’d sent to fans. In his own words, he wrote that “like sport, I think of this record as being something for mind and body,” which, across its fourteen tracks tongue-in-cheekily named things like ‘Skype’ and ‘Jonny [Feat Jonny]’, certainly makes you feel like you’ve been part of an intense swimming session or three.

‘Sport’, for all of its erraticism, has moments of brilliant club euphoria. ‘Frankie [Feat Frankie]’ makes perfect sense as the big lead single – its stomping, industrial synths collide beautifully with playful vocals and some of the best drums you’re likely to hear in electronic music this year. It has a real groove, capturing the sound of someone who’s clearly crafting forward-thinking tracks for fans of motorik noise. It’s easy to see Powell’s love of Shellac and Big Black isn’t a part of his troll persona.

Despite these moments, they’re not threaded together or curated in the same way as on his previous EPs. Powell’s music is for sweaty, unconcerned nights of utter debauchery – the kind of whirlwind Saturday night where there’s no way you’re getting home until at least midday. This makes listening to the album as a whole a frankly exhausting experience. The Slits-esque, post-punk guitars of ‘Jonny [Feat. Jonny]’ are a joy and perfectly marry post-punk with hazy club music, but when Powell pushes his boundaries further than they’re willing to stretch – such as on the grating bleeps of ‘Getting’ Paid to Be Yourself [Al’s ‘Kick Ass’ Mix]’, or the erratic jam-band sensibilities of ‘Her Face’, only the diehard Powell fan is going to find themselves not punching above their weight.