[Room With A View]

Andre Lodemann’s distinct sound could be said to comfortably slot in somewhere between deep house, the gentler side of techno and tech house, but it’s the kind of comfort that’s reassuring rather than boring. The German producer’s second EP for Hamburg label Room With A View emphasizes Lodemann’s faint allegiances to deep house, two unhurried slow-burners that forgo conventional “deepness” in favor of unfettered and highly modern textures.

There’s no way around it — “Your Choice” is simply stunning. It rises ever so fluidly to life on a slowly intensifying percussive tumble and a gently nudging ascending bass line (think Julio Bashmore’s “Footsteppin'” for an example of similar low-frequency bliss). Everything about the track, from the sustained tone that quietly hums in the background, the odd mangled snare, strategic hand claps, to the so-high-on-the-fretboard-the-strings-are-gonna-snap plucked strings, all carefully push it towards some dangerous plateau of perfection. Of course, it never quite gets there, meaning as the track so expertly cycles through phases of pumping hi-hats and breezy piano riffs it teeters on the very edge of free falling abandon, paradoxically making its eight minutes feel more like fifteen and yet flying by in a blur anyway. Not quite the same multi-layered epic, “Don’t Panic” might not be the equal of its flipside but it’s a fine effort regardless, immediately asserting itself with a heavy downtrodden thud and dissonant chords. A jerky, awkward piano riff rudely jams itself into the track’s stuttering groove, and the harsh rhythmic turns and nearly atonal phrasings play the disconcerting inverted world to “Your Choice,” but once a ropy bass line worms its way into the track’s second half it all finally comes together beautifully.

The EP is rounded off with two remixes of “Your Choice” that can’t help but feel peripheral under the direct gaze of their substantial parent. Master-H attempts to turn the song in a strange electro house direction, hijacking its leisurely forward trajectory into something more anxious, while Iron Curtis’ take is nobler, dragging the track down into the murky depths of actual deep house as the bass line takes over and Lodemann’s pristine portrait is submerged in lush analogue synths. But the originals prove Lodemann a severely overlooked producer capable of nearly flawless progression, the kind of studio wizard who can turn eight minutes of repetition into a breathtaking journey, making mini-house operas out of deceptively simple tracks that unfold like epic novels.