QQQ is an artist of few words. Or, at least, the “about” sections of his profiles stick to the essentials, simply labeling his music as electronic and dance. His sounds are densely packed, and as such, don't require a lengthy introduction. True to form, his latest track, "The Pharmacy," is an array of skittering synths that fall together in odd shapes and varied textures, backlit by a vintage computer screen. It’s a sputtering, digitized pattern that has few lyrics, all delivered in a warped voice.
QQQ has created a landscape with a foundation of ricocheting beats and hints of nostalgia—"The Pharmacy" is reminiscent of a switchboard overloading, full of wires short-circuiting as electricity courses through every socket. At one point the song takes on a crinkling, static trajectory that sounds like a distant cousin of a dial-up login. Towards the end, there’s an almost sci-fi turn, with a spooky, electronic flourish that might score a Hollywood UFO sighting.
With its revved-up synths, roiling beats, and retro sheen, "The Pharmacy" is a track that'll certainly give you your fix.
The only lyrics in QQQ’s new track “Definitely Dead” are, “I can’t define / How much I / Much need to die / Tonight.” The words unsettle, particularly when processed into a voice that sounds more alien-robot synthesis than human. But the music itself, with its pulsing dance bass, spurts of tinkling synth lines, and shuffling beat, is euphoric. Some symbolic deaths are a happy transcendence, like the act of losing oneself on the dance floor. As the first of his three tracks on Vocoder Works demonstrates, DJ/producer QQQ has made a name for himself in that transcendent territory.
Toeing the line between weird experimentalism and accessibility, QQQ builds soundscapes more worthy of being called compositions than songs. The artist uses analog synths, which generate a smooth and sometimes warm feeling, particularly on the liquid, alien-jazz second track, “Unreachable.” With its drones and tinny synth riff, though, “HoldMyHand.103b” enacts the joke of its title, approximating human sentiment in a harsh digital language. But after a glitchy build and a moment of silence, even this track shifts into a blissful and sunny final movement with a dance-inducing beat. On this third release, QQQ shows that for all of its lack of real human feeling, electronic music is often the genre that burrows the deepest by inciting the blood to flow, the body to move.
