[Roska Kicks & Snares]

To put it nicely, garage MC turned funky functionalist Roska isn’t exactly what you’d call a home listening guy. While his super-percussive tools work perfectly in the club, they hardly evolve enough to maintain your headphoned attention. Even in their intended environs, a DJ has little reason (aside from track length, which can occasionally push a tedious eight minutes) to choose one Roska track over another; they’e all basically some iteration of the same kicks-and-snares (plus supermassive bass) patterns for which the man born Wayne Goodlitt named his label. Admittedly, Roska’s jams have become slightly more intricate and interesting with each release, and his recent remix of Untold’s “Just For You” hinted more than ever at broader compositional horizons for his pitch-perfect drum samples. But the quality of the tunes found on the “TWC EP” — while falling far short of stone-cold classics — still comes as something of a shock. It’s as if this guy woke up one morning, ate Sven Weisemann for breakfast, made an appointment with Efdemin’s tailor, and became a fully-fledged dub house producer by midday. Behold the first 100-percent recommendable Roska record.

You wouldn’t know anything had changed about Roska’s approach just after the needle drops (on gorgeous heavy-weight blue or red vinyl, should you spring for the physical): “Concrete Jungle”‘s buoyant, airtight snares and toms trickle down from a steady four-four pulse without a hint of ornamentation. When sweet ambient clouds and mid-range dub chords waft in, as if from a liebe*detail convention down the hall, it provides exactly the kind of softness I’d always hoped Roska would hit on. It’ surprising how much more emotionally nuanced these hard-partying rhythms become when splashed with even the lightest watercolors. Tech-house treat “Proverbs” coats the beats in a slightly thicker batter of synthesized horns and smacking hats, though the swirl Roska gives to his dub atmospherics keeps the mix appropriately fat-free. For my money, though, “Sheppard” makes the most sophisticated and sexy use of this new melodic regime. Freed from tune-carrying obligations, Roska’s drums cut a more abstract path through the woods, meandering from relatively straightforward grooves to impossible knots and back again, all under a woman’s subdued panting. If you’re feeling chills, then skip the B2 included as a thematic odd-man-out bonus cut. As if smashing the glass on some kind of MIDI emergency party alarm, “Without It” is relatively old-school Roska, coming at the floor with Crazy Cousinz-style razor blade brass carrying the same chords those coy synths had held previously. It’s been one of my favorites to DJ with recently (who doesn’t love an over-the-top key change?), but I’m enamored with it in a much different way than I am with the three other cuts on offer here. Roska still might run on a bit longer than he needs to, but as these immersive and bittersweet sonics continue to wash over me, I’m pretty close to biting my tongue.