You might know Danilo Plessow from his Motor City Drum Ensemble moniker. You might know , both are talented house music producers. Together they are Vermont – and this self-titled album project is a calming and lovely late-night/early-early-morning set of ambient ideas that has very little to do with house music at all really; though in the crystallised synth sounds and stretched space – that floating mood that pervades – you can see how their careers outside of this have worked as antecedents for this music, as guiding lights.
Vermont’s music fits in with the fine tradition of alien-like German music, the influence of Roedelius seems most obvious, turns out Can’s Jaki Liebezeit is involved in the recording. So though this never crashes out into abrasive Krautrock areas – it’s more the mannered, Eno-esque/early-Kraftwerk feels – it does, in some way have a hint of post-rock waft to it.
For the most part it’s the pretty keyboards noodlings that stretch out and away from vacillating coils of synth – they seem to urging the listener to follow, a study in contrasts as one keyboard line tempts to you drift off, and one anchors you, tethers you as if the hypnotic rhythm to the track.
My favourite aspect of Vermont’s album is just how measured it is – how gentle. There are strong and sure rhythms (Macchina), there are playful moments where beneath the soft jittering percussive passages you are caught between whimsy and intrigue (Ubersprung) but there’s always a warmth to this, a nurturing feel. It’s been carefully managed, created with love, with heart, and the mood goes beyond moog, beyond the coldness that so often detaches this sort of music.