Jon McMillion - Horus House FLAC album

Many music producers strive to become artists; in the rare case, artistry secretes from the individual's pores as naturally as sweat on a summer's day. Horus House certainly suggests that Jon McMillion belongs to that rarified and select second group, as it adds to an equally artful discography that includes Inner Floor (Orac, 2006), Back On That Road (Orac, 2007), and Jon McMillion LP (Nuearth Kitchen, 2010). Spreading two cuts across two twelve-inch vinyl sides, McMillion's debut outing on the upstart Zoombézoom label pairs a seven-minute jam on the A-side with a thirteen-minute epic on the flip.

The title cut eases the listener into the release gently via a midtempo strut and twilight textures. A delicate theme softly calls out from a misty blend of vinyl crackle, warm electric piano, and percussion before bright acoustic piano trills and a subtly grooving bass pulse enliven the material and haul it into the daylight. The overall mood is serene as McMillion invites the listener to lie back and bask in the music's quiet, serpentine splendour. Details aside, what impresses most is his talent for weaving sounds into an engrossing, sequential flow, something rendered even more evident during the longer “D-Drop Jam” when it twists and turns through a series of forceful Latin-, jazz-, and space-funk episodes. In a masterful display, claps, bass, electric piano, drums, and chicken-scratch guitar kick out a funky, long-form jam that captivates from start to finish despite its loose, freewheeling vibe. McMillion makes it all sound so easy.

Textura

McMillion’s new Horus House 12-inch on the Los Angeles-based Zoombézoom (run by Konstantin Gabbro, who co-founded the now-defunct Orac Records with Seattleite Randy Jones) continues his consistent run of headily hedonistic releases. The A-side title track features perhaps McMillion’s most melancholy melody—it’s as gorgeously plaintive as Boards of Canada’s most downtrodden tunes—and easy-going, chugging 4/4 beats. Beautiful minor-key piano motifs embroider the rhythm while a subtle keyboard drone swirls over a bass part that tugs you toward the boudoir. McMillion’s pointillist percussion adds just the right sprightly spice to the cool moodiness. Named after the Egyptian god of war, sun, and protection, “Horus House” is not your father’s club music—although it may be your weird older brother's.

The 12-minute “D Drop Jam” immediately springs into action with an urgent, humid disco pulse, augmented by massed claps, distant, Bitches Brew-like organ vamps, and a nasty bass line reeking of XXX funk. But nothing is every very cut and dried with McMillion, so he eventually inserts a stoic drone to add a menacing frisson. "D Drop Jam" ranks up there with the likes of that master of modern sexaholic disco, the Mole. A classy yet raunchy classic is instantly born.

Review by Dave Segal