Foote / Dickow
High Cube
Geographic North
When two or more artists switch on the gear and hit record, the potential for loopy or meandering self-indulgence is huge. Avoiding such pitfalls requires nimble thinking and an embrace of risk, no matter how laid-back the temperament of the jam may be. The practice was demonstrated to perfection on the first rEAGENZ album in 1994, where David Moufang (a.k.a. Move D) and Jonah Sharp (a.k.a Spacetime Continuum) first connected in San Francisco and laid down the blueprint for free-form machine improv through a downtempo techno lens. Three decades later, West Coasters Brian Foote (a.k.a. Leech) and Paul Dickow (a.k.a. Strategy) are keeping that tradition alive and well with their own “first thought, best thought” long player, High Cube.
Headsy machine jams for the back room seem like a natural zone of exploration for Foote and Dickow. In their individual exploits, Foote helps set the bar for contemporary leftfield techno at the helm of his Peak Oil label, while Strategy has amassed a deep discography centered around a hand-played, band-informed kind of electronic music that ranges from garage to ambient yet never sounds generic. After years of friendship and casual sonic encounters, High Cube is the first time they’ve committed to a proper collaboration and it unfolds with the relaxed air of two old buddies kicking it with their toys.
What’s most noticeable about the music on High Cube is that despite being richly detailed, it manages to maintain a light and airy feel. There are a lot of elements at work, even on the mellower opening tracks, but the mixdown is brilliantly clear throughout; as such, there’s always ample space for subtle impulses and hand-wrought tweaks to shine and give a sense of constant motion to each track. Foote and Dickdow aren’t afraid of being playful—the low-res bass wriggling through “Underwater Welder” is particularly lively—and the LP at times recalls the bright and off-kilter demeanour of Mike Paradinas’ earliest output on Rephlex.
But there’s also sophistication to match all of the album’s wayward charm. “Yonaguni,” for instance, is artfully complex with its rhythmic angles, walking bassline and richly textured dub techno shimmers, and it achieves a jazzy intensity without losing the mellow energy that permeates the whole record. Though High Cube was crafted by two scholars of electronic music as brain food, and might appear to be aimed squarely at the headphone trippers, there’s a rejuvenating soul at the heart of the project.



