The last time Mathew Jonson released a solo 12-inch under his own name was nearly a decade ago. That doesn't mean he hasn't been busy. The Vancouver expat remains one of dance music's most prolific, if humble, elder statesmen. He's released collaborative EPs with everyone from me to the The Martinez Brothers, maintains a full live calendar (both on his own and as part of the improv ensemble Cobblestone Jazz), put out an LP under his Freedom Engine alias, and even started a music production school. What makes his new EP on London minimal slingers Half Baked hit just right is the fact that it feels like nothing has changed in the interceding decade. Equal parts organic warmth and analogue funk, Spaceport 23 is a reminder that no one can write a melody like the man who gave us dance music's most recognizable arpeggio.
Spaceport 23 is basically 22 minutes of one jazzy organ loop. On the A-side, the loop sounds like it's being riffed on by one of his many live bands. While the organ stays in center stage, other instruments come in to reinterpret it or duet: a Rhodes piano, a 303, some spacey techno chords towards the track's middle. The drum programming is minimal perfection, loose and groovy for all nine minutes. On the flip, we get two different looks at the same organ motif. On "Spaceport 23-Z," it's a bit hard to see what's changed—the track is a bit shorter and the intergalactic chords are pitched higher in the mix—but on "Spaceport 23-X" Jonson reimagines the track as a proper acid trip. This version could work in a techno set to reset the mood: the synths are springy and tense, while the organ itself only appears in little flashbacks at the corner of the stereo field.
What's most striking about Spaceport 23 is that any of the three tracks could have been released on any Wagon Repair or Cobblestone Jazz record over the past two decades. This is by no means a bad thing. If Jonson never released another record, he'd remain a legend, instrumental in helping birth modern minimal and helping producers reimagine what live dance music can and should be. The fact that he can still make one melody sound so good for 22 minutes speaks to just how singular an ear he has. By the end of the record, I was ready for the other 24 versions of the track.