Kassem Mosse - Workshop 32 (2023)

As the stonks flew over the Pudgy Penguins nest, and the monarchy dissipates further into irrelevance, there are some slighter plays at hand to rely on. Given it’s been a LONG time since we had a solo project from Kassem Mosse on the staple label that is Workshop, you might want to just FOMO into a listen of ‘Workshop 32’.

Give me that sweet, sweet Residue… having played around with different aliases, styles, formats and collaborations, including an acid stomper with FIT Siegel, and too many heavy hitters that I’m sure no one reading this is a stranger to, Kassem Mosse aka Gunnar Wendal comes back with his latest effort to mark the tides – and of course you get your cake.

But as the night crawls and the Royal’s bawl, steadily like the tempo in this new work, from the pitter-patter and clambering 808’s that he slaps us silly with, to Kassem’s signature lack of convention, things start to creak out of the woodwork. And, given the reputation Gunnar has built over the years, were you expecting anything else? So what point are we at now? Weird – check. Belters – check. Artsy – check. Forward-thinking – check. Widespread integration and then copy/pasta via contemporaries – check. So, now, we, erm, play around some more?

If a singular track is listened to in a passing moment or out of context from this, well… “that’s some very confusing music” perhaps. But dive deep and Workshop 32 is a stripped-back boundary-pushing affair, paired with a melancholic twist. What the soundscape would be for the end of the night, lusting past 6am and the daylight is peaking up from afar, the norms are going to work, and you’ve finally rationalised you gotta drift to the next space.

KMOS draws darker elements into his efforts in Workshop 32, while going all the way through the spectrum of tempos, BPMs and bleeps. You’ve got to give him credit for the tremendous playpen he throws sand in, and while drifting through the tempos, I think under the radar, time as a construct is played with well in this LP. The only verbal affirmations coming from the LP are the pule effeminate vocals in ‘C1‘ and the finale track ‘Provide Those Ends‘, both not amiss from serenades to oneself in the haze of it all.

Given the arch-type no title track listings of Workshop’s releases, you’re left to peel open the tracks yourself with no guise other than the music. Brazen highlights in the same vein then, include ghostly melodies, emotive pads and creepy bass-lines through the crux of the album, emblematically finding solace in the ending tracks, we hit a sweet spot to cherish, much like the fondness of the night we had, to be remembered in kind that you danced, you loved, and you did it all… quite literally you did it all.

With it being a decade since KMOS did any solo material on Workshop, there was bound to be buttons pushed, but there’s also some new skin to dance in. Credit where it’s also due to the label, given Workshop has consistently anchored itself as an incubator for the innovators.