Four Tet - Kieren Hebden Photo: supplied
There’s a track on the new album by British producer Four Tet that seems to describe his approach to life. It’s called ‘Gliding Through Everything’, a fitting summation of a career that’s seen him go from cutting up jazz loops around twenty five years ago, to blasting high intensity dance tunes at Glastonbury, in a headline slot alongside Skrillex and Fred Again..
Kieran Hebden remains an unlikely figure to have achieved this level of success, but he’s done so while posting clips of recording in his home studio out in the woods, seeming more at home with a cup of tea than a bottle of Dom Perignon.
He’s also mastered a certain type of production, one that’s seen plenty of imitators. But no one comes close to his particular brand of amiable beats, tunes that convey exceedingly pleasant vibes without using any words.
I recently played 'Three Drums' to a friend and asked them what they heard. They came back with adjectives like ‘dreamy’ and ‘chill’, which is absolutely correct. This sort of thing falls into the category of ‘background music’ for a lot of people.
But listening a bit more granularly you start to hear a lot of depth. Aside from the wave of euphoria that grows as the track's instrumentation expands, there’s that mysterious melody which sounds like some kind of bowed string instrument, and a loping beat that gives the song its title - ‘Three Drums’. The way it’s imperfectly spliced together is one detail that reveals itself over multiple listens.
Hebden is an expert at this kind of thing: his music always sounds handmade, full of tiny, human details. You can chuck it on in the background, sure, but closer listening is so rewarding.
This album is called Three, despite being the twelfth Four Tet LP. Hebden’s career stretches back into the 1990s, starting with his band Fridge, for whom he supplied guitar, and as they progressed, samples.
I read an interview with him once that said his rule for Four Tet was sticking to collage: even if he played a guitar part, it would be cut up and reassembled. There’s a lot of guitar on ‘Skater’. Who knows if that rule still applies.
Regardless, the imperfections of a live band continue to shape his work, even when he’s delving into more programmed territory, like on ‘Daydream Repeat’.
That’s the sort of thing that took over the Four Tet repertoire once he started DJing in dance clubs, but these days the insistent kick thump is offset by that lovely harp. There’s a delineation between his recorded output and the kind of high energy thump of his sets with Skrillex.
Three is generally very relaxed, and not always cheery. Late in the album ‘So Blue’ pairs modern synth chirps and disembodied voice with the kind of drum loop he was making twenty years ago.
Around halfway through that track the drums thin, and in the right hand channel they’re replaced with what sounds like a muted acoustic guitar being strummed percussively. It’s the kind of detail Four Tet albums are rich in, that simply wouldn’t occur to most producers.
His body of work now encompasses a very long list of remixes, live albums, DJ mixes, collaborations with Thom Yorke, Burial, and the late jazz drummer Steve Reid. Through all of this he’s kept hold of what makes his music distinct, and Three feels, in the best way, like a distillation of everything that came before.
