The three opening tracks immediately set the tone and pace: somber and intense music built for the dance floor, climaxing with the Millsian splendor of 'Tea Party' built around a piano motif and one of those screeching sounds the Detroit master sadly eschews these days. The twelve-minute long 'Bad Friday' becomes the centerpiece of the album, a beautiful rolling nightmare that wouldn't be out of place on Plastikman's 'Sheet One' (very high praise around these parts). Occasionally Baby Ford slows things down to form a bit of contrast, as on the dubby 'Late Check Out,' the dark trip-hop of 'Word For Word,' and the calm techno of the appropriately titled closer 'The Healing.' At first hearing, the tracks may sound too minimal, but under close scrutiny (at top volume, on headphones, or just by the trained ear of the techno lover who is attuned to intricate details), there is a wealth of detail in these tracks: for instance, the astounding way the reverbed piano motif of '24hr' unfolds; the rhythm of 'Sugarspoon' suspended over a oscillating background hum; or the interplay between cold intricate drum programming and lovely warm synth stabs on 'Arbo.' 'Sacred Machine' isn't a forbidding album, in its will-to-dance it must be populist, but at the same time, this functionality will take some time to get into when played at home. Its meaning and its true pleasure beyond DJ-tool may somehow escape the listener, but trying to work these out is ultimately a rewarding experience.
A triumph.