Pilote

Sometimes you’re instinctively drawn to something. Brighton, UK-based Stuart Cullen, aka Pilote, makes crunchy, gritty, absolutely mesmerising electronic music. I can’t help but go along for the journey as his unswerving beats and melancholic melodies slowly but surely seep into my brain and body. Do It Now Man is deliciously full of musical dichotomies, simultaneously dark yet humorous and lo-fi in instrumentation while ideas are articulately expressed. Cullen manages to be both moody and inspired, poking a little fun here, dabbling in a little dirge there. He opens his second full-length with an oddly empathetic piss-take at larger-than-large British trance DJ Paul Oakenfold, layering a drunken male vocal mumbling "I don’t know where the fuck I am" over disturbing, distorted beats until the song lapses into a momentary shiny, trance-y high. Presumably at this point all in Paul’s world is again recognisable. "French Canadian" takes a slinkier approach, with lovely, lamenting melodies played alongside dubby grooves. "The Fourth" packs a powerful punch, kicking in with simple Casio-like beats and breaking down methodically until an organ and syllable-singing female voice is added. Here, Pilote shows his incredible skill at building something huge out of very little, maintaining these very same elements while he builds gradually and gracefully. Similarly, "Champion Waltz" is a masterpiece; time stands still as Pilote’s unique beats skip a slow, slightly off-kilter waltz, strings caress and playful keyboards tease. Instruments enter delicately, sounding like children’s toys at points and distorted bagpipes at others. Like very little I’ve heard before.