In 2005, Jeff McIlwain (aka Lusine or Lusine ICL) released Serial Hodgepodge on Ghostly International, who was still making its name as a dependable indie electronic music label. It was a sublime mixture of contemplative melodies, scratchy clicks, and glitch beats surrounded by micro-processed atmospherics. Its experimental side was bent on expanding house and IDM like a 3-D schematic and filling in the little voids with a much more personal, narrative sound. Compared to Serial Hodgepodge, this year’s A Certain Distance is markedly less experimental, more dancy, but equally enjoyable.

That was not, however, my feeling after my first two listens. I orignally thought that A Certain Distance was a step in the wrong direction, particularly due to the then imposing presence of vocals, supplied primarily by Finnish siren Vilja Larjosto. Gone also are the introspective passages of Serial Hodgepodge such as “Drip” and “Still Frame.” I’ll begin by approaching the vocals.

Whereas Serial Hodgepodge certainly has the influence of the human voice, all the vocal tracks are utilized more as a complimentary instrument through processing, dicing, and slicing until they become just another noise and not a voice begging to be in the spotlight. They have an otherworldly quality to them.  This style continues on A Certain Distance with the chopped up specter of female voices on “Cirrus,” where words are not what pull on our ears, but rather the ethereal sub-syllables that meld with all the synth washes. However on the single “Two Dots” and later with “Twilight,” Larjosto is given room to open up with actual lyrics. For example, on “Twilight” she asks lightheartedly, “What do you know about the Ancient?/What do you know about the Future?/Why these serious questions?” in a playful dance with a cardio-syncopated synth line. The irony of my usual distaste for vocals, mostly in electronic music, is that “Twilight” may very well have become my favorite song on the album as I seemed to consistently be driving through sunsets when this song came on. By the time “Gravity” rolls around, McIlwain arrives at a beautiful mix of Hodgepodge’s chopped up vocals with the more fluid dynamics of A Certain Distance, where it sounds like Larjosto is escaping from the soundboard bit by bit. I bite my critical tongue, as A Certain Distance has provided a step forward in McIlwain’s approach to the use of vocals as a part of his music and illuminated me to the occasional error of my ways.

McIlwain has also changed much of his timbre. Serial Hodgepodge is steeped in mist and steam swirling around a center of hard-hitting, out-there rhythms and is decidedly autumnal in its tone (making it a Seattle album for sure). On the other hand, A Certain Distance is so sun-drenched we might think McIlwain had moved to Los Angeles or some coastal Mediterranean villa. But the summer we had in the Pacific Northwest, which was the hottest on record and almost completely devoid of precipitation, matches Distance’s empyrean radiance. Certainly, I understand that this is just by chance, but it was a serendipitous coincidence. Many people have talked about this album carrying a heavy pop feel and structure, but it seems that they are only reflecting on this sunny sound, as I really don’t hear any prevalent pop structures. Additionally, it sounds as though the dance factor is what influences some ears to identify a pop leaning to A Certain Distance. “Every Disguise” is the poppiest track on the album with its up-tempo, dance floor rockin’ beat, but the Mr. Oizo-esque bubble bass steers the track away from pure pop proclivities. Also, “Crowded Room” is designed to move a room full of butts, yet the early Detroit house organ stabs are more reminiscence and recycling than pushing for mainstream airwaves.

While Distance is a bit straighter than Hodgepodge, this is no reason to take a myopic view of its quality and sure-fire enjoyability. Yes, I pine for the more introspective sound of Hodgepodge, but am jubilant in response to McIlwain’s retention of his style and drive to push forward into new areas.

The only recommendation I have for the folks at Ghostly International is to recognize that the sublime pairing of “Twilight” followed by “Baffle” could have made a supremely successful single to whet listeners’ appetites for this album. “Two Dots” is a fine song for a single, but it didn’t force me to chase the bait. Overall, this is a fantastic record that works nicely to contrast some of the more somber electronic releases in the genre.

-Gabriel Bogart