Infinite Black Inside

Visionary producer Ibrahim Alfa Jr, who's been traversing the rave's farthest fringes since the late '90s, returns with his most focused and concise set to date, an anthology of undulating, bass-heavy experiments that surveys techno and its distorted history, printing fractured pulses and cybernetic synths over vanishing snapshots of jazz, funk, trip-hop, broken beat, dub and ambient music. It's a body of work that coalesced during a difficult time for Alfa. After returning to Brighton and sobriety in 2022, he was diagnosed with a pulmonary embolism, subsequently suffering two debilitating heart attacks. With his immune system compromised, isolation was the only option, so for months on end Alfa devoted each waking hour to his art, recording samples, building digital synths and effects and meticulously sequencing some of his waviest, most experimental material to date. Over this period he finished over 500 tracks, writing impulsively and constantly challenging himself. "There was nothing to hold me back," he explains. "I just had music, I didn't know if I would see the next day."

Now recovered from his ordeal, Alfa looks back at this prolific period with optimism and fondness. It was a chance for him to reconnect with his art holistically, writing purely for himself without any outside influence. Because, at this stage in his life, Alfa has already been through a series of artistic evolutions. When he was still just a teenager, he penned a slew of grinding, jacking techno 12"s (under a variety of mysterious monikers) in the late '90s before re-emerging a decade ago with the acclaimed 'Hidden By The Leaves', an album made up of deeply personal archival tracks that were thought to have been lost. A few years later, Alfa returned wholeheartedly with a series of records for Mille Plateaux that redrew the boundaries of his "Black political music without words." And on 'Infinite Black Inside', those different strands are muddled with Alfa's profound life experiences and he expresses himself free of any self-imposed boundaries, writing quickly on a hybrid analog-digital setup to document as many ideas as possible.

There's a palpable sense of liberation that drives the album's opening track, 'Subutrax', lubricating polyrhythms that isolate the connective tissue between footwork and Detroit techno as they slip between looped electric piano vamps and vaporous synths. On 'Naked Lunchbreak' meanwhile, the beat generation's excesses are illustrated by mesmeric fast-paced acoustic drums that Alfa balances out with brassy drones and euphoric keys. He captures rubbery hits from a Ghanaian djembe on 'Drum Slinger', re-sequencing them into seismic waves that rumble underneath live woodwind blasts. And on 'Capture', decelerated breaks and garbled voices tumble into humid pads, suspending the album somewhere between the chill-out room and the night sky. It's a record of new beginnings and fresh narratives that collapses the hardcore continuum, revealing a sonic signature that's Alfa's alone.