Send "Gui Boratto " Ringtones to your Cell 
| Pitchfork |
 Brazilian electronic producer Gui Boratto got his start working in advertising and making pop music, two worlds where superficial sheen and polish are of paramount importance. It's easy to see the connection from his earlier life to his current solo work, for Kompakt and other labels: His tracks are vibrant, ear-pleasing candy of the most licensable order, and his full-length albums have thus far stuck to a fairly simple formula: one or two big, dreamy, tastefully sun-kissed vocal house anthems selling the surrounding tangents into minimal techno.If that doesn't sound like a golden ratio, you're right: While Gui Boratto's Chromophobia and Take My Breath Away are both solid, sometimes spectacular albums, you're most likely to have Boratto saved in your mp3 locker as a singles artist, best known for evaporating vocal tracks like "Beautiful Life", "Like You", and "No Turning Back", or for his subtly percolating Total 7 instrumental "Arquipélago". But while those remain his most breathtaking songs, such an appraisal does disservice to his deeper album material-- tracks that, once you stop hunting for the car-commercial hook, make for some pretty enveloping listening. III, Boratto's sensibly titled third album for Kompakt, follows the same pattern as his previous records, but it also pushes that balance between pop standouts and functionalist tracks further. Here, the vocal tracks are buried, both in terms of mixing and album sequencing, and instead the record emphasizes Boratto's range as a producer. There is some range, and some real technical skill on display here. Album opener "Galuchat" comes on with a filter-swaddled melody that sounds borrowed from an early-2000s Morr Music artist-- Lali Puna, perhaps-- and which all but invites you to imagine a lyric over it. "Stems from Hell" and "The Drill" demonstrate Boratto's facility with darker, steamier techno-- all pneumatic pumping rhythms, ominous melodies, and grain-spitting synth sounds....full text |
| Earmilk |
| Having just seen Brazilian minimal techno extraordinaire Gui Boratto for the first time at Electric Zoo in New York this weekend, there was really no better time for me to check out his new album, III (out September 13 in North America on Kompakt) than now, when I am still riding the afterglow of his set, one of my favorites of the festival. Gui’s minimal style was especially refreshing amidst all of the raging electro and house that I saw at the Zoo, but that’s not to say his set was a “break” by any means: it was actually a major pick-me-up on a Sunday afternoon when I thought the only feeling I was capable of was exhaustion. Download: Gui Boratto - Striker I guess that what I like most about this album is that you can literally do anything with it it: I fell asleep to it last night, two days after I had danced my heart out to many of the same tracks. When the bass is pounding loudly enough, this tracks can feel intense and urgent, but when the volume’s a bit lower, they can feel calming and ambient. Minimal music can sometimes fall into a boring category where everything sounds the same, a category where I’d exclusively listen to this music either live (when it’s loud and danceable) or as I fall asleep, relying on repetition to lull me into slumber, but there’s plenty of variation between distinct tracks here, variation that turns it into an album that I find myself actively listening to over and over again. Download: Gui Boratto - Soledad Many of these tracks would not seem the least bit out of place on a movie soundtrack. ”Stems from Hell” feels like a treacherous jungle hunt. “Striker” brings a heavy, percussive sound that continues this sense of something pressing, bringing in a strained, dark vocal (one that’s not too attention-seeking but definitely adds to the ambiance of the track). Not all of the tracks are quite so heavy and dark. “Flying Practice” has a more peaceful, airy tone, and “Trap” and “Soledad” bring a more slowed-down kind of melancholy. “Destination: Education” is a more tradition-feeling minimal track. “The Third” perfectly balances glitchy outbursts with comforting repetition. The album wraps up with “This Is Not The End feat. Luciana Villanova,” which in some strange way manages to feel like a minimal techno facsimile of an indie pop track (something about the instrumentation and how the track builds up creates this feeling)....full text |
| Dustedmagazine |
| Two thousand and seven was a very good year for Kompakt and the many listeners the Cologne label helped introduce to techno. Along with The Field’s From Here We Go Sublime, Gui Boratto’s first LP, Chromophobia, helped inject techno into the “indie” conversation. The Brazilian DJ’s debut got a lot of positive notice, but the crossover didn’t carry over when, in 2009, he released Take My Breath Away. I ignored it at the time, but as it turns out, it’s a very good album, too. I have a feeling this year’s III may be fated for the same path. I don’t mean to belittle its many pleasures. Kicking off with “Galuchat,” whose sweet melody emerges from a half-dozen shifting synth layers, the album’s mood is a touch darker and slower than before — which, weirdly, doesn’t make it any less immediate or mood-enhancing. Then again, its darkness is textural. “Striker” engages in some low-key flirtation with coldwave, building around a dirty bassline and Boratto’s background vocals, but the drum programming keeps it all rooted in a crisp tech-house foundation. It’s about as much change as Boratto is up for on III, and that’s actually a good thing for all but a couple of tracks. Structurally, “The Drill” is maybe the most familiar track on III, although a crunchy Big Muff bass and sandpapery synths lend an aggression that feels new. The pulses and orchestra samples of “Flying Practice” conspire to uplifting ends while “Destination: Education” swings wide on the lyrics front, which seems to hold the whole thing back. Elsewhere, the gummy arabesque that’s the basis of “Soldedad” has some Cocteau Twins-ian mystery, which Boratto finesses into something that could be the theme to opening your room’s windows. Gui B.’s music is so thought out and his skill so apparent that he never has to choose between home-listening fodder and club trax, yet III feels decidedly homey. It’s an album animated by the contrast between simple melodies and the complex, deft productions that back them....full text |
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