His partnership with the label has already resulted in a collaboration with Modern Heads, as well as one of the first entries in the Monad series, and now a fascinating new EP that showcases his talent for testing the limits of perception.
Alistair Wells is a producer whose current work is synonymous with a kind of benevolent intensity: he excels at sculpting tonally rich and percussively complex tracks that seem to both enlighten and confront. Under his most well-known alias as Perc, he has established a deep roster on his Perc Trax label to carry out a similar-minded program, and has built up a formidable arsenal of EPs and singles in the wake of enigmatic LPs like 2011's Wicker & Steel. His 'eclectic-yet disciplined' methodology practically guaranteed he would eventually come into the orbit of Stroboscopic Artefacts. His partnership with the label has already resulted in a collaboration with Modern Heads, as well as one of the first entries in the Monad series, and now a fascinating new EP that showcases his talent for testing the limits of perception.

The ominously titled opener "Death of Rebirth" - a title hinting at some form of hellish repetition - starts things off with a sense of dark premonition. Yet, in signature Perc style, that aura of uneasiness beckons listeners to explore further rather than to flee from it: in this context, the reliable 4/4 kick drum throb is the only means of orienting oneself or angling through a glassy and metallic labyrinth where foreign objects conspire to make previously unimagined percussive noises. "Negative Space" is a variation upon this theme of trying to maintain focus within a foreign environment bristling with strange enticements and potential dangers: with the kick pattern from the previous pice still acting as a trusty guide, new sound forms arise at every turn: a novel sort of hybridized piano / gamelan tone, a shuddering assembly line, and snaking delay feedbacks. Like dub music meant to be listened to in a hall of mirrors, "Negative Space" induces a heady feeling of multiplying realities.

The closing "Ma", if translated into Japanese, can mean "space / pause" and thus acts as a nice complement to "Negative Space." However, this massive, side-long audio force field dispenses with the previous tracks' steady pulse, and suggests a rigorous act of ritual contemplation taking place in the midst of phenomenal chaos and challenging blows to the body. "Ma" succeeds in modernizing the industrial-era rhythmic invocations of artists like Z'ev, achieving an almost classical solemnity without sacrificing Perc's usual love for cleverly maniuplated electricity. Altogeher, 'Ma' is an eye-opening, ear-infliltrating statement that will warp your understandings of time and space in a most exquisite way.