Gabe Gurnsey - Diablo Review

Each song on Diablo is simply caked in lust, entirely reminiscent of the party drug infused lyrics popularised by rave culture of the 90’s.

2018s Physical saw Gurnsey start to move away from his origins as drummer for industrial dance group Factory Floor. Known for their lengthy and cold deconstructions of no wave electronica and industrial techno, something I've seen described as “Ghost Disco”. Physical's cyclical design was far easier to consume than Gurnseys previous venture and lent itself to repeat listening. Narratively tracking a night out from the taxi, to the club, to popping out for some fresh air, to the journey home. 

The DNA of his beginnings with Factory Floor remains present throughout his work, though the Ghost Disco is now turned away from the nightclubs and instead finds itself at home in an MDMA fueled sweaty walled basement. We now have the latest instalment in Gurnseys journey, Diablo.

I was excited to hear Diablo after listening to Gurnseys previous instalment and enjoying it considerably more than I'd anticipated. Finding similarities with favourite artists such as LCD Soundsystem and New Order to peak my interest throughout. With this in mind the first 30 seconds of Gurnseys follow up caught me off guard. During the synthy shimmering build and the pacey claps on opener ‘Push’, echoes of a spoken “Yeah”, seem to be taking me towards something not dissimilar to Underworld's ‘Born Slippy. An “Oh Come On” cues an emphatic change in pace and the intro is replaced with the familiar oscillating synth bass featured throughout Gurnseys debut. Morris sings “I’m an example of pure temptation, Your touch is heaven, This is a kind of feeling I can ride forever (forever), Let's push together”. This both opens and concludes the lyrical content for the opening track.

The next two tracks are more direct. ‘Hey Diablo’ sounds like it would be at home being listened to on a late night drive along a motorway. ‘Power Passion’ reminds me almost instantly of Daft Punk - ‘Lose Yourself to Dance’. They’re lower and darker sounding than the album opener, with talk of oscillation and ultraviolet love along with the higher frills conjuring imagery of the lights illuminating high above lighting the road and moving in turn across the body of the vehicles below. 

The album very much follows this trajectory from here, and by track five I’m beginning to wonder, should there be another Tron movie, whether there would be someone ahead of Gurnsey in the pecking order to pick up the soundtrack. It's difficult to imagine hearing these tracks not illuminated in the fluorescence of the bright pink of the album cover which features Tilly Morris, Gurnseys partner and Collaborator.

The vocals on this record are largely that of Tilly Morris, who features on almost every track, as Gurnsey adopts a more supporting role. Gurnsey instead prominently applies himself as world builder, offering life to the music, with his now instinctive drum fills constructing the environment around the synth beats for the vocal to excel. The vocals throughout are understated and cool but sit perfectly within the Gurnseys sound. 

Each song on Diablo is simply caked in lust, entirely reminiscent of the party drug infused lyrics popularised by rave culture of the 90’s. Utilised more as a hook for the audience, binding the listener to the rhythms and beats offering other dimensions to the sound, something more tactile to latch onto. 

Much like dance classics such as ‘I Feel Love’ by Donna Summer, it's not the amount or the depth of the lyrics used, but rather how you use the select few that matters. As you'd probably expect with an album like this, lyrically they’re not digging up new ground here, but what is here, works.

It's noticeable that the drums seem to have been curtailed somewhat on Diablo compared to previous incarnations, with more focus on programmed rhythms. Not that that's at all negative, but instead seems to show a more finite understanding of what it is within the drums that appeals to Gurnsey. The next step in the evolution, a reduction of what it is within the music that makes him really truthfully happy, and presenting this through his work. And although sparsely, the drums are still there. The typical flecks and embellishments that are now so natural to Gurnesy are thinly layered across the record to great effect. This concentration highlights Gurnseys own influences and allows them to beam an almost retro feel, and a familiarity throughout. Although he continues to wear his influences on his sleeve, it is no doubt that this album remains entirely his, and of course Morris’, own.