When Felix Manuel, better known as Djrum, released the brain-scrambling Under Tangled Silence last year, his composition and production finally caught up to the technical wizardry of his renowned DJ sets. By now, Manuel’s approach to DJing is well documented. He doesn’t jump between genres so much as inhabit several at once, changing their DNA from the inside with a singular, masterful touch. He possesses a penchant for dazzling tempo twists, frequently layering acoustic instruments like piano, harp, and cello into convoluted beats, much like a Four Tet with eight hands. Under Tangled Silence compressed those traits into a dense, overstuffed album that rarely repeated itself, shooting off in multiple directions every few bars. His sets remain some of the most thrilling in the scene, but as listeners have become familiar with his signature tricks, the question arises: what happens when the shock and awe is no longer quite as shocking? I Wander offers a definitive answer: you zoom out and condense what once felt epic and sprawling into 16 minutes of pure, concentrated power.
A Masterclass in Electronic Precision
Blitzing through six tracks in just over a quarter of an hour, I Wander looks like a club EP on paper, but it plays more like Djrum’s attempt to speedrun his own artistic evolution. The EP’s seven numbered parts are divided into six tracks, all stitched together into one seamless suite, reminiscent of a side-long ’70s prog-rock epic. It begins with a spacious tom groove surrounded by erratic bursts of drums and electronics, as though Manuel were testing out every instrument in his studio. Then, it hits warp speed, throwing off bruising synth bass and breakbeat fragments. The suite is built atop a core rhythmic foundation that changes course across the EP’s discrete passages—meaty, three- or five-minute chunks, and brief interludes—but in typical Djrum style, he turns expectations inside out, creating some of the most dazzling, heart-in-mouth moments of his discography.
Tactile Soundscapes and Classical Influence
Take the minute-long “I Wander (III),” which barrels out of the blocky breaks and jazz-inflected keys of part two in an unhinged percussive freefall. The drums speed up, slow down, and bunch up unpredictably, resolving into a synth chord that initiates the more restrained—but still frenetic—“I Wander (IV + V).” The track’s tangled syncopations would sound hectic if it didn’t all come across so smoothly. Manuel’s drums are bevelled, contoured, and mixed with such perfection that their impact is more sensuous than the typical jackhammering kicks of hard techno. That tactile feel makes the fourth and fifth sections feel warm and inviting, framed by strange piano chords that add a tinge of noir-inspired sleaziness. It is a soundscape that evokes the spirit of Bohren & Der Club of Gore if they had played Metalheadz at the Blue Note in the early ’90s.
In the past, Manuel’s use of live instruments could occasionally feel forced, as if he were imposing the respectability of trained musicianship onto his otherwise high-octane tracks. Not so on I Wander, where he turns those acoustic elements into part of the attack. Much of the EP is propped up by topsy-turvy basslines, which transform into a cello at the beginning of the sixth movement. The intro of “I Wander (VI)” isolates the pitch-bent cello, and the momentary stasis is like opening a trap door to more rhythmic chaos, as the drums scatter like ball bearings.
The Evolution of Breakbeat Science
The pairing of percussive fireworks with classical instrumentation brings to mind Venetian Snares, the Canadian breakcore artist who once chopped an entire orchestra into athletic feats of drum’n’bass pandemonium. There is a similar spirit here, especially in the way Manuel’s rhythms can stop or turn on a dime, like a roller coaster suddenly going into reverse. However, Manuel’s approach is more controlled. I Wander doesn’t carry the confrontational swagger of breakcore, nor is it standard dance music; it is a unique bridge that only a producer as brave as Manuel would dare to build.
Djrum is that rare dance-music figure who manages to maintain his edge and authenticity while reaching a wider audience. His use of acoustic instrumentation may court listeners who aren’t otherwise schooled in the intricacies of breakbeat science, but the gleeful speed and rigorous finesse of his productions appeal to anyone with an ear for detail. The ending section of I Wander moves with a grace that most producers could only fumble at. Every element seems to exhale. The drums are calm, the woodwinds sigh, and the cello rattles out a last gasp, forming a gentle push-and-pull melody that gestures toward a final climax. It might seem sentimental if it weren’t preceded by 14 minutes of hair-raising mayhem. In less than a quarter of his previous album’s running time, I Wander takes up the fireworks and makes them bigger, bolder, and more precise.