Some, like me, say that doing music reviews is a thorough way to exercise your writing chops, because applying the literary to the aural is a surefire way to stretch your imagination and wrap your words as liquidly as trees tied in knots.

Sometimes, I think of another Torley — you know, the one who's a world-trotting DJ — and I wonder what music he's listening to. I hope in his universe that Steve Porter exists, because the Porterhouse EP is a filling gem, and one of the finest records I've ever listened to. As four original cuts taken from the larger Porterhouse mix album, it's a tasty meal you're not going to forget anytime soon.

Steve Porter's take on house (Porterhouse, geddit? Ha-ha!) is uncharacteristically melodic, flamboyantly layered, and possesses enough brass for the boys on the dancefloor, while transitioning in enough subtle and delicate touch to appeal to feminine charm. Inshort, in many ways, it's the music I wish I was making. But since I'm not, the best I can do is review this cohesively compelling package of four tracks as follows:

(the following sound clips are samples: track times refer to the full thing)
 

"Funk Theory"

A trademark Porterian technique is to use a constant loop for the bulk of a track, while varying the mix, dropping elements in and out, and throwing in surprises as sharp as Dragon's Tooth swords. "Funk Theory" not only has the benefit of reverb'ed horn stabs for ornamentation, but chopped vocodery bits. @ 1:34 in, a brazen bassline saunters in, like the bastard cousin of New Order's "Blue Monday", and shortly after, gated synth arps chime to the forefront.

What's really appealing to me is the pounding breakbeat that drops in @ 2:18, which possesses the characteristic bounce of the Plump DJs' "Scram". Nice bass guitar technique enters which ends all too quickly, but leaves plenty of room for the track to develop further. Like I said, surprises.

Throughout the Porterhouse EP, there are respectfully cheeky nods to the retro, but the music as a whole does not sound dated. For example, the almost video-gamey synth which starts @ 3:33 really enhances the interplay between the low and high end, acting as a massively midrange mediator.

When appropriate, whooshes and syncopated percussion cue the listener into the next energizing section. Never one to rely on a generic snare roll, Steve pulls and pushes at the mix like elastic, letting it snap back at full strength when the time's right. "Funk Theory" exits as it enters to exist: full, flanged, and funky.

"Hulkinator"

I have no idea what the title means, but it's a hella kewl name for a track. Unless I'm mistaken, this behemoth of beats sounds like some bouncy breakhouse hybrid, the 4/4 rhythm evident, but the bass of the kick drum never gaining the upper hand vs. the crisp snare shuffles.

Synth FX panning left and right like exploitation flick danger cues propel the jagged ra-ta-ta! of the hi-hats forward, while a funky looped bassline which could've belonged in "Funk Theory" — and prolly would've if it had more room, so it slipped off the set to find a comfy home here! — sleekly adds even more punch to the glory of the frequency balance.

Let me just express, this is a great song for a comic book fight scene, and perhaps in that evocative moment, we think of the Incredible Hulk, with everyone not likin' him 'cause he's angry, throwing trash cans with such force that the bad guys are sent back into the 1990s, where early Orbital ruled the motorways.

Did I say Orbital? Yes I did. @ 2:35 after intense buildup, a filtered sequence gets introduced which sounds like a dead ringer for the signature sounds in some Orbital tracks, including a riff from "Nothing Left". This spooked me out of my seat the first time I heard it — a tingle ran up and down my spine and I was definitely doing more than tapping my foot!

Before it gets repetitive, it leaves, and we're treated to some almost Far Eastern pecking in a James Bond mode, then the main ideas of "Hulkinator" — including the synth FX — return in full force. We never do hear that "Orbital riff" again, but whether it was sampled and looped or originally performed, there's much to be said about the parallels between classic graphic novels and electronic music. (I wanna say how much James Holden's music should soundtrack horror movies in the vein of Dario D'Argento films, but that's another topic for another day.)

By the end, I come to the conclusion, yeah, this is breaks disguised as house, but when he gets to cornering you in a dark alley and pulling off his coat, you're delighted.

"Junk In The Trunk"

A slower tempo than the previous two, one of my fave methods — raising the pitch of a few percolative bits across the intro bars — makes an appearance. I do think in large part, I enjoy this music so much because if I was in the same position, I'd make similar choices.

If you were to strip the ambient pads and some of the excess drumming from this track, you'd end up with a minimal thumper fit for dark German warehouses. But since a mechnically-jazzy, pseudo-piano line finds its way to the forefront later on, I immediately got the impression that Steve Porter's work is the sonic equivalent to a luxury sedan: rugged, dependable, aircon works great in the winter, and with plenty of comfort to boot.

Perhaps that's what the "Junk In The Trunk" is all about: my mind plays out an animated cartoon, with a family of platypuses going for a picnic, not disturbed in the slightest that they're God's little freaks of nature.

Bonus points for one of the most kingly uses of reverse cymbal I've ever heard. Swoooooooosh!

"Fountainia"

Without any atonal lead-in section, a chugging melody starts as soon as the beat begins. Like "Funk Theory", there's a certain amount of vocoder vox here. I'm not sure what's being said, but before I can think further, an offset bassline to the 8th note of every 4-on-the-floor kick induces a classic house feel, joined by an eminently hummable melody @ 1:28.

More switching between steady 4s and breakbeat by the time 1:42 comes 'round. Wonderful, wonderful transitions. Steve Porter's consistent about many things, but in mixing within a single track, he does an awful amount of things right.

The air clears at 1:57, when the melodies subside, and the snare (it sounds gated?) whips the waves of sound into a frenzy, elements unfolding as one section gives way to another. I'd like to know how all this is sequenced, because clearly, variety is Porter's strong suit. If you've ever thought of techno(logically-based) music as boring and too unchanging, or subtle in its changes, I relate, and I reckon we've got quite the antidote here.
 

So there you have it, the Porterhouse EP: four great tracks, marvellous production quality, and tremendous heapings of emotional resonance, all without being overwhelming.

My fave Steve Porter track to this day remains the aptly-titled "Sandbox", which gets me thinking of the fertile creativity found in the desert plains of Second Life's sandboxes. Within, textured, processed pianos are interwoven with the paternal hug of a bass so deep that the Marinas Trench ain't got nuffin' on it. Again, the constant beat coupled with caressed melodies is a reassuring tour de force and reminder to keep moving.

Choice for home listening, but I can only imagine how all this sounds on a beefy club soundsystem. *waves hands in the air like glowsticks*