Solomon's Prayer vinyl

Luciano's studio in Berlin: on any given afternoon, half a dozen people might roll by, from the Exercise One guys in the studio next door to likeminded Berliners to whoever might be in town for a gig. Some people need to lock themselves away in a sealed bunker, but Luciano's place isn't like that: it feels more like a salon. And with the speakers buzzing, the machines fired hot, and the hour growing fuzzier with each spliff, sometimes it can be quite an alchemical combination, the stuff of everyday life being spun into gold circuitry and filigreed beats. These two tracks are a lot like that. They're the work of Luciano and Thomas Melchior, a longtime Playhouse and Perlon artist and wry-smiled philosopher who doubtless needs no introduction. These two tracks are 25 minutes of the purest wordless communication, like two Scuba divers trading hand signals 10 meters down, or a locked gaze on the dance floor. You can hear bits of each individual in the mix-Melchior's characteristic skip and swing and his dexterity with vocal samples, Luciano's gliding polyrhythms and soft, seamless ruptures-but here their signatures blur into a fluid scrawl all its own.