Totakeke had an amazing run of releases on the now-dormant Tympanik Audio, which was a major force in industrial music from 2007-15. We even reviewed a number of them for our former site. When Tympanik went down, we lost track of the artist, who stayed hot with a pair of hard electro sets on the HANDS imprint, culminating with Telematic in 2018. After five years, he’s resurfaced on Inner Demons, this time on 3″ CD-r, an increasingly rare format that befits the release. This is only one of an incredible twenty releases in a day from Inner Demons, conveniently promoted with a streaming sampler, as heard below. Fans of noise, drone, dark ambient and industrial music should definitely be checking this batch out.
The unusual thing about Inner Demons is its location: Tampa, Florida. The city is the home of the 2021 Stanley Cup and Super Bowl Champions, Busch Gardens, a huge university, a lot of retirees and miles of pure white sand. As such, outsiders might consider it a happy place. And yet Florida is currently in the midst of a war between Disney and its governor, and was recently given a travel advisory from the NAACP due to its disregard for Black people. Inner demons, indeed. The roster is a reflection of the undercurrent of hate beneath the veneer of respectability. But just as one should not judge St. Petersburg’s Platanoff (also on Inner Demons) for his nationality – the artist writes, “Please help Ukraine in any way you can. Putin’s regime must be destroyed, and Putin hanged” – neither should one judge all Floridians by their government. Many who remain are protesters and prophets.
Inner Demons has done a great job collecting artists of related timbre from across the globe. Frank Mokros (Totakeke) hails from Lake Ronkonkoma, New York, a suburban stronghold in the heart of Long Island, an hour’s drive from the Big Apple. Subjects of Assimilated Consciousness, Vol. 1, like the preceding album, flows like a single track, although it is divided into sections like a suite. The first, “Reshapable,” rises cautiously from silence, as if reluctant to speak. Five years is a long time: an entire pandemic and more. While it doesn’t take much to coax the beats to emerge, the careful development is a reminder of Totakeke’s strength: his music is never restricted to simple EBM, but stretches into other, more thoughtful territories. The key moment occurs at 5:05, when the volume breaks a new boundary, surging into the foreground.
After this, an interlude of sorts, dark ambience followed by bubbling synth, gargled voice and a jump into steady beats. We have reached “In My Image, But Not Me,” which may be a commentary on God and man (we’re writing “man” because females have not done much to destroy the world). The words about “shaping clay” seem to back this assertion. This track has enormous power and at approximately 132 bpm is destined to pack the floors.
New patterns emerge in the twelfth minute of the mix (or the fifth minute of the track), bringing the energy to an even higher level before an epic collapse. From these ashes Totakeke will build again, now in “Staying Completely Within,” biding his time before a final eruption. While DJs will need to slip in some extra beats to keep the dancers invigorated, the home listening experience is immersive. The first two thirds of the track is a wasteland; the final third, as if going in reverse, is an apocalypse. Wait for the Big Percussion at 19:31. And then it’s over all too soon; or is it? The tail end seems ready to segue into another track, the first of Vol. 2. How many volumes will there be? We’re not sure. But we hope to be alive for the rest of them. (Richard Allen)
a closer listen 