[Desolat]

When was the last time you thought about Martin Buttrich? The German studio wiz and producer (occasionally for hire) just isn’t blowing up on my radar like he used to a few years back, when his Seeing Through Shadows 12″ with Loco Dice for Minus and, of course, “Full Clip” were properly demolishing superclubs and underground parties alike. Ultra-detailed and hugely accessible, Buttrich was an ace in the studio by practically every objective measure. I’m personally surprised that I, a huge fan of those 2006 records and someone who thought Loco Dice’s 7 Dunham Place album from 2008 totally killed it, let him slide so far off my “to check” list. Chalk it up to his relative silence on the release front — Stoned Autopilot and its remix 12″ and a handful of remixes comprise his recent eponymous output — or to his brand of alternately C2-vampy and vaguely tropical digital house more or less falling out of favor, but as someone who follows dance music pretty well, I just haven’t had Martin Buttrich on the tip of my tongue for a few years.

I was a bit startled to find out this super producer’s debut album was on the way for Loco Dice’s Desolat label. I almost gave it an “oh, that guy” pass, but I figured if I listened and heard something fantastic, I’d owe Mr. Buttrich an apology for letting him slip into the ether. Buttrich’s biggest problem on Crash Test isn’t the quality of the production; like an organic produce market in a blackout, the album is rife with high quality merchandise that’s starting to turn. The record kicks off with a trio of deep, wobbly tech-house rollers that are plenty effective yet surprisingly indistinctive. “Tripping In The 16th” and “Back It Up” are generally the weaker of the three, but a texturally irrelevant trumpet (replete with unseemly, dare-I-say preset-y reverb) ruins the otherwise amiably groovy “I’m Going There One Day.” The album’s midpoint hosts its highlights. Buttrich’s records under his own name have usually made for his most massive productions, but the horribly-named “Hoochie Mama” thrusts him back plonky minimal records his floor-stormers provided an antidote to. Buttrich lends enough craft to the track to more or less pull it off, even in mnml-unfriendly 2010. Bearing an equally dreadful title, “Enough Love To Hate It” also boasts borderline cloying moments — vocals from what sounds like a Fever Ray remix of Kate Bush, an epic but potentially proggy breakdown — that only spectacular sound design can save.

With the exception of “Blackouts Non-Stop” and “Stop Motion” (the latter qualifies as Buttrich’s biggest track since “Stoned Autopilot”), the album’s final push has never really stopped blending together for me. It’s a shame. I can hear that the guy knows how to twiddle knobs, but his mastery over his machines doesn’t commit to tape the kind of hungry anthems it used to. A producer like Scuba is arguably equally as adept in the studio, but he sounds like he has a rather complicated and ambitious thesis on Triangulation, the current vanguard of this year’s electronic long players. Crash Test, instead, makes for merely a collection of tracks reiterating what we already know about a producer. Stick with those keen early releases and hope Buttrich’s ambition catches up with his muscles very soon.