- Looking too deeply into The Mole's music may be harmful to your health. Despite the wisecracking Canadian's claim that categorizing should be left to the critics, his productions defy analysis. You either fall into the lengthy grooves that he sets out...or you don't. With a few very notable exceptions, The Mole's productions are pushing the night forward, not owning it. His New Kanada effort, Nervous Disid finds a comfortable place and then glides effortlessly the rest of the way.
What defines The Mole's productions in contrast to others operating the same space is the details. For some reason or another, vinyl crackle underpins the pumping bassline of "Nervous Disid" as pornographic moans work their way out of the murk. They never reach the orgasmic point, and neither does the track, but that's exactly the point. "Secret Mummy" is a slower take on the same idea, its percussion loop so plodding that it's almost as though it can't quite bear to make it around to the next iteration. It does. For nine plus minutes. And in the interim, you'll hear stuff like a disco stab, a ridiculously subterranean bassline and what sounds like the saddest dog ever captured on tape. It shouldn't make sense. But in The Mole's hands it seems like the most natural thing in the world.
A Nervous Disid
B Secret Mummy