aturally, Warmdesk's 2003 Guero Variations calls to mind Bach's Goldberg Variations, a connection strengthened further by their shared sound source, piano. But beyond the overlap in titles, they share little, as Chicagoan William Selman uses the keyboard instrument to generate 'non-played' sound samples. Where did the idea originate? Having tracked down an album by German composer Helmut Lachenmann at the request of a friend, Selman's attention was caught by one of its pieces, “Guero,” in which the piano's insides were played instead of its keys. The discovery proved serendipitous, as he then hatched his own set of variations, the project's methodology conveyed by a singular liner note: “Most Sound = Piano.” Rather than use the Lachenmann recording as sample material, Selman recorded about three to four hours of sounds using a few different pianos, and then edited the recordings into samples and processed the material using various programs. This description might suggest that Warmdesk's variations are of an 'academic' sort, like brittle atonal music that invites admiration but offers scant pleasure. Nothing could be further from the truth, as Selman's approach proves a catalyzing springboard for nine superb excursions into dub-flavoured tech-house. He modifies the originating sounds so completely that virtually any trace of piano vanishes, his transformative approach in sharp contrast to that of Matmos, for example, which deliberately retains a sample source's identifiable character (see: the plucked and bowed cage in “For Felix (And All The Rats)”, etc.).

The focus of the nine variations isn't melody per se; hooks definitely won't lodge in your head and bedevil you for days on end. Rather Guero Variations is foremost about groove, but what stunning grooves they are. These supple, texturally rich tracks cruise at a languid pace, and exude the buoyant serenity of a sailboat's graceful glide across becalmed waters. Driving bass lines push the dub-house rhythms forward, showered by a perpetual interweave of lush chords, exotic percussive accents, and dubby echoes. While the pieces do sometimes sound like variations upon a theme, there are also discernible differences between them. The clipped beats and minimal bass figures of “Guero (Paletas),” for example, generate a mellow funk vibe, while the closer “Guero (Vermillion)” offers a warm microhouse shimmer that's divine. “Guero (Disco),” on the other hand, is harder-edged techno accented by tearing sounds and handclaps, and is also the one instance where recognizable piano sounds can be heard; one imagines Selman dragging a stick across the instrument's inner wires to generate the track's dulcimer-like strums. Selman's musique concrete approach (also deployed on the Guero Variations Variations, Pistachio, and Safety First EPs) offers unlimited potential when it's used as remarkably as it is here.