ANTHONY “SHAKE” SHAKIR - FRICTIONALISM 1994-2009

(Rush Hour)

Formats: 3x CDs; 4 x 12”/1x7” vinyl.

‘Breathe Deeper’ is a typical track from the back catalogue of Anthony ‘Shake’ Shakir.

Apart from this compilation, it’s to be found on side B of an EP called ‘Iconoclastic Diaries’
released on Shake’s Frictional Recordings label, in 1995, catalogue number FRCT 002.

It occupies the entirety of side B on that record and is more than 12 minutes long.

On it, a spiralling, astringent arpeggio is waylaid on what perhaps might have been a shorter simpler journey, by psychedelizing tweaks and diversions. Sweet harmonising comes from a luxuriously thick and syrupy portmento pad refrain, which keeps ebbing in for several minutes at a time before ebbing out again. The beat is ‘techno’. But that’s really not telling you anything. Listen how the kick clips the front end of every second 4-bar beat with an extra kick before the one directly on the beat. Slightly left-field, you will hear some analogue-sounding synthesised percussion. It’s vaguely reminiscent of two padded-up tom toms. Of course it has vague associations with many kinds of  ‘indigenous’  rhythmic music. Such a timbre, combined with the technological ‘feel’ of the drums and the overall context, produces a poetic and perhaps ironic juxtaposition of ‘ancient’ [albeit stylised ‘ancient’] and ‘modern’.

These synth side drums provide the swing syncopation on ‘Breathe Deeper’: one hit just ahead of one bar, then one a little behind the next, then doubled-up before the next, then repeat step one, and so on. ‘Cymbals’ are constructed from another analogue-sounding module comprising of noise, sine wave [I think] and high-pass filter. Modulation on the top-lying percussion layer is synched to the rhythm, so with each hit of the emotionalised pad you hear a different face of the shimmering, simmering, wash. And this rhythmic wave of course inhabits the larger intervals of incoming and outgoing episodes of portmento voice.

I’ve taken a fair bit of time and space to break-out quite a detailed run through of one example of  I think a particularly effective Shake song for two reasons. Firstly, because every several years or so, and as a new replication of potential listeners happens along - some of whom are naturally going to be less aware of this type of music - it’s worth heading-off techno ignorance at the pass. It’s probably a good idea to reiterate that whilst the lengthy repertoire of a producer like Shake is underpinned by music which serves the dancing body and/or mindless hedonism equally as well,  complexity and intricate fascinating are also present in abundance in Shake tracks,  for the attentive ear to hear and for the subtle mind to cognize.

Another good reason for trying to paint a picture of Shake’s typical sound, stems from my perception of the curious way Shake’s reputation differs from his true peers amongst long-established US techno makers such as Derrick May, Juan Atkins, Kevin Saunderson, Dan Bell, Richie Hawtin, Carl Craig, Kenny Larkin and others.

It’s true that the deeper recesses of the back catalogues of his peers would be the secret knowledge of dedicated fans only. But most of his peers could still at least be pegged by the average club goer/club music appreciator, to the handful of tracks made by each of them, which have broken beyond the techno ghetto, if not into the mainstream [although in a few cases, such songs have reached there too, of course].

For Shake though, it seems to me that it’s less likely any of his songs would even be recognised by ear, by people who are less familiar with his body of work even if they’re ‘into’ club music, because as excellent as most of Shake’s tracks are, their goodness is confined within the rubric of his sizeable back catalogue: they’re not played often in the average techno set [and not even in the above-average one] in my experience.

In large part, that is where this compilation steps in: to get these often astounding gems out of the increasingly concentrated and arguably rarified world of vinyl, and [legitimately] out into the digital domain.

And I think it’s been a noble and mostly successful effort in that respect.

There is however, the question of value for money. It’s less of an issue for the 3xCD edition which retails at an average price of £17/$25/€19.



But what about the fairly limited edition version of this compilation available on vinyl? It’s true that with a door-stopping 35 tracks on the 3xCD version, compared to 17 on the LP compilation, [including one 7”] the vinyl version is clearly not - even if understandably - the definitive version.

Even so it’s worth toting-up what you would get for your wedge of around £40/€45/$60 for the vinyl.

At one point I attempted to ‘replicate’ the vinyl compilation: could it possibly be cheaper to collect the original records from which the vinyl compilation is made up? Well, one thing which makes that exercise impossible to complete is that the compilation includes the odd track which doesn’t appear to have been released anywhere else, like ‘The Other One’.

Perhaps it’s not the most memorable moment on the LP, but it is likeable, and it seems unlikely you’d feel good about foregoing it. It’s quite in the vein of ‘Arise’ and ‘Plugged-In’; seemingly based around vintage funk samples backed-up with a fluid bass - which occasionally morphs into the subsonic area - and a clattering, low-cut break.

And by the time I got round to gathering prices of the EPs from which most of the tracks on the vinyl collection is comprised, it quickly became obvious that what had earlier seemed like a reasonable exercise, was pointless. I could be imagining things, but could it be that the price of Shake’s vinyl in the second-hand market, increased in the wake of this compilation? A cursory scan through vinyl prices on the Net, about 6 weeks before setting down to write this review had led me to suspect, if not be entirely convinced, that it might be possible to re-create the Shake compilation from the original EPs for a similar price as the vinyl compilation, perhaps cheaper.

But when I actually got down to toting up EPs and prices, I realised that I would have already matched something like the price of the compilation by buying just three of the constituent EPs. Methodology, as questionable as it necessarily would be, was to opt only for vinyl graded as ‘near mint’. I then tracked down the EPs in order of appearance of the constituent tracks. By the time I’d hypothetically assembled the first three songs on the vinyl compilation, the value of EPs I would have had to acquire was likely to be slightly higher than the cost of the entire compilation.

For the, er, record the first three tracks are on side A and B of the first of the four discs. The tracks are: ‘Happy To Be Here’, ‘Breathe Deeper’ and ‘March Into Darkness’.

The only other place to find these songs is on the following three EPs: ‘Begin’ (Frictional Recordings, FRCT001) 1995;

‘Iconoclastic Diaries’  (Frictional, FRCT002) 1995 - pictured near the beginning of this review - and ‘Mood Music For The Moody’ (Frictional, FRCT004) 1996.

By my reckoning I would have paid around £13.50 for a ‘near mint’ second-hand copy of ‘Begin’, £9.50 for ‘Iconoclastic Diaries’ and £22.99 for ‘Mood Music…’

The total cost would be £45.99.

Admittedly, I would also of course be getting several other bits and pieces in addition to the target tracks on those three EPs, but no more than a quarter of the music on the compilation is on those EPs, and the cost would be more than the complete compilation.

So forget about it; unless you’re going for completism over value for money, get the compilation.

The other administrative consideration: as wide-ranging as these versions of ‘Frictionalism’ are, understandably, neither are a complete record of the Anthony Shakir back catalogue. There are 11 releases by Shake under the Frictional Recordings label alone, each containing an average of 4 tracks each. As far as I can tell, there’s nothing on the comp released under any of Shake’s aliases: nothing from Schematics [which had one release on KMS in the early ’90s] and nothing from Da Sampla, a moniker under which a smattering of Anthony Shakir tracks were released from the mid ’90s, culminating with an EP on Moods & Grooves in 2000, ‘Samplaholic’. Mr. Shakir has also licensed several records over the years to labels eager to add the weight of his name to their back catalogue, or to include them on electronic music compilations, making them much sought after for several years after their release.

So completion would have been impossible on one compilation of Shake tracks. But there is a case for the idea that some of the music necessarily omitted is considered essential Anthony Shakir music.

For instance, Shake’s magnificent contribution to the New Religion label’s compilation of smart techno ‘The Electric Institute’ isn’t on ‘Frictionalism’.  ‘The Stranger’ was certainly the most essential ‘new’ Shake track I’d heard in 2005. Similarly, the still almost frighteningly-futuristic sounding ‘Sandblaster’ on the Astralwerks label’s ‘Detroit: Beyond The Third Wave’ (1995) and on the ‘Systematic Advancing’ EP on Gigolo in 1997, ought also, ideally, to be on ‘Frictionalism’. These are surely amongst Mr. Shakir’s finest and most successful single productions. Their omission no doubt has as much to do with licensing issues as it has to do with considerations of keeping some sort of limit on things. But they’re not here and that is a small minus point.

OK, back to the music.

‘Frictionalism’ remains worthy of your consideration if like me you’ve been a fan, but have like most normal people, had limits on the amount of time and money you had to spare to track down everything Shake Shakir has released over the years.

And if on the other hand Shake’s music is completely new to you, ‘Frictionalism’ is right now, the best place to start to become familiar with that music.

The compilation has successfully, in my mind captured the three broad flavours of Shake.

These are: the hyper-futuristic techno side, composed of sounds which at times sound completely unfamiliar to the ear; the disco/funk/house-flavoured techno, often appearing to be comprised partly from samples from soul and funk records; and finally, the rarer type of Shake track, which might surprise some listeners new to his work - more or less straight-up hip hop.

Naturally, this compilation is techno heavy. This has been Mr. Shakir’s bread and butter over the years. As well as one of my personal favourites, ‘Breathe Deeper’, described earlier on, you will also be furnished with such highlights as the unashamedly euphoric ‘Arise’, first released on ‘Waiting For Russell’ (Frictional, FRCT 008) 1998.



For those coming to it afresh, it’s not a bad place to prepare yourself for Shakir’s often characteristic production values. They indicate amongst other things that a little distortion is acceptable. Will you notice that there is a little distortion, by the time the skipping, multiple-hit kicks have started rocking your head back and forth? After three minutes, if you’ve been successfully won over, the way the rough-hewn finish envelopes vaguely discernible voices intermingled with unearthly chords in shimmering warmth will feel, apt.

Similarly the monster-sized punches on ‘The Fake Left Go Right Plan’  from ‘Songs For My Mother’ (FRCT 010) 2000,

are a healthy antidote to pristine, ‘minimal’ chops which have become la mode since then. The spoken word excerpts on that record are quite in keeping with that spirit of individualism versus conformity and formula which one could say are inherent in the music of Mr. Shakir.

We might also highlight ‘Electron Rider’, (from ‘Mood Music For The Moody’) the central riff of which is a rapid-fire, mildly over-cooked filtered vocal edit job. The techno backing is expert, warm and rich, but what will disrupt your consciousness before you understand what you’re hearing [and the reason you will remember ‘Electron Rider] are the squelchy low-end bleeps which interject the whole track as if they’re on a side-chain. You get to hear them in detail in the break, but they’re present almost throughout, providing an often subliminal syncopation which is that little extra bit of psychological seduction.

One of the interesting things about the Shake techno sound is that it has several gears. He is also admired for managing to inject a more introspective slant in some of his 4/4 music. Perhaps the most notable title in that style is ‘For The Lamented’  from the ‘Unsterilized Sessions’ (FRCT013) 2002

There you will find, above the gentle pulse which plays substitute for a kick drum, iterations of sweet melancholy and an emulation of the soul music in which Shake evidently is at least partly rooted. Also from the same EP and directly following ‘Lamented…’ on the compilation, appears what could be called Shake’s signature track ‘Frictionalized’. Similarly laid back and straightforward, the mid-volume surging strings, and almost plodding rhythm parts still have the potential to soothe ease and inspire, and if you’ve not been convinced of the magic by that point, it’s where to decide it’s not your thing.

There are two rare electroid excursions on ‘Frictional’: ‘Stereotype’, also from ‘Waiting For Russell’ and ‘Fact Of The Matter’, from ‘Tracks For My Father’ (7th City, SCD 008) 1998.

The artist brings the same analogue and subtle intrigue to these as he does to his techno and house, but it’s really the smattering of hip hop on which the depth of atmosphere he’s capable of becomes most evident. ‘Detroit State of Mind’ (again from ‘Waiting For Russell’) is likely the most definitive Shake hip hop track. Even here, he has not rested on simple beat structures. Opting instead for a flam in place of a kick, and background breaks a plenty, The hook is as ever simple, well chosen, memorable. Perhaps it started off as a guitar lick, perhaps not. But what you hear is evocative of the synapse in your mind labelled: guitar-from-a-much-sought-after-and-obscure-soul-record. This is quite a few miles from techno and house, but in some structural way, the variance feels as if it coexists with those genres quite naturally. Reminding us of the technological credit which ought also to go to many makers of hip hop as it does to the makers of the music to which the term ‘techno’ more readily stuck.

As I round this out, I hope I’ve managed to convey from these various clumsy descriptions that Shake’s tracks no doubt, can sound like regular clockwork machines on a casual listen … however at any moment, strange and wonderful extrusions are liable to punch you affectionately and unexpectedly in the ribs from this music.

Would it be apposite for me to call Shake the one true techno shaman amongst the first wave of US techno producers? Shake’s music is so evidently simple and instinctive yet it’s also self-evidently mechanistic and technological. This contradiction seems in some way related to what we might call The ‘Shake effect’. The ‘Shake effect’ is the knack of these songs to somehow manage to instill an almost subliminal affection beyond which might be expected from the sums of their parts. It could be the essence of what draws followers to this producer despite the personal limitations which have had an indirect impact on his output, his music and his life, but again, evidently, not his spirit.

Ken Odeluga