K-LONE: sorry i thought you were someone else

"Since it was founded, just a little over a decade ago, Wisdom Teeth has traversed a gamut of styles, moving as steadily as the progress bar crawling across the waveform of a DJ mix. Early experiments in dubstep gave way to unorthodox bass music and leftfield techno; successive compilations have been dedicated to narrowly bounded experiments in the wiggly terrain around 100 BPM or the quick-stepping possibilities of the 150-170 zone."

"He likes his synths luminous and his drums razor sharp. His harmonic elements, though electronic, tend to have a suggestively physical heft, reminiscent of struck mallets and wheezing organs. His percussion, on the other hand, is unusually unassuming, at least compared to most contemporary dance music, implying not so much the force of drumsticks as the light glancing off a burnished hi-hat."

"His new album sorry i thought you were someone else is of a piece with his previous two LPs-supersaturated with color and driven by finely honed drums. But even without making any major stylistic leaps from his previous work, it's the most satisfying record of his career so far. His textures are softer and more enveloping than ever, and his emotional range has expanded beyond his previous albums' demure glow."

Wisdom Teeth has evolved through dubstep, unorthodox bass music and leftfield techno, with compilations exploring narrowly bounded tempo zones around 100 BPM and 150–170 BPM. K-LONE (Josiah Gladwell) favors luminous synths and razor-sharp drums, combining electronic harmonic elements that convey physical heft with understated, shimmering percussion. His new album, sorry i thought you were someone else, continues his established aesthetic while increasing textural warmth and emotional range. The record remains rhythmically precise and color-saturated, and it represents the most satisfying entry in his discography to date. The album appears on New York's Incienso, contrasting with Wisdom Teeth's recent minimal techno compilation.

Read at Pitchfork