Magical musical musings from the mind of the marvellous John Matthews.

Gavilán Rayna Russom is an artist, folklorist and curator based in New York City who has been making electronic music for over thirty years. In her early twenties she became an electronics engineer and by the start of the 2000s was busy building, tweaking, and fixing custom synthesisers for DFA Records and LCD Soundsystem – she actually joined James Murphy’s band full-time from 2009 to 2018. My introduction to her music came in 2005 when she teamed up with Delia Gonzalez, a Cuban-American interdisciplinary artist. Their collaborative DFA album, “The Days of Mars”, which draws from ambient and krautrock influences, is a true masterpiece and prompted me to closely follow her intriguing solo career which has spanned numerous aliases. Black Meteoric Star is one of those monikers, acting as a vehicle for Rayna to release raw acid, electro and techno, all heavily rooted in the subculture of queer underground clubbing. “Wet”, the sixth album from BMS, celebrates the deep, historic ties between electronic music and leather / SM culture. Historically, the LGBTQ+ community has relied on both spaces to build solidarity and ensure mutual safety. Through this release Rayna, a transgender queer woman, aims to reaffirm these connections and offer a direct artistic response to the political demonisation of queer people by the current US administration.

“The Calling” kicks things off with a raw, primal synth line that slams into the listener at maximum volume. Anchored by a mid-paced beat and distorted, urgent vocals, it instantly channels the spirit of Suicide’s debut album. This is pure electronic punk and it’s a brilliant way to open the record. 

Next up is the proto-house of “5am Open Air Sunrise” complete with a nostalgic layer of background tape hiss. A futuristic synth floats over the driving beat, evoking a raw, unpolished version of Kraftwerk’s “Trans Europe Express” (no pun intended). The unbalanced volume levels give it the feel of a live bootleg or demo recording. Ultimately, the music perfectly captures the essence of its title, that moment when the rising sun provides the body and mind with additional energy to keep going on a pumping, sweat soaked, leather clad dance floor. “Butplug Thumb Drive” continues this proto-house vibe, again revolving around a repetitive synth line and basic drum machine. Aimed squarely at the party’s peak, the track builds as the synth slips out of tune, injecting Space Invader sound effects just as the listener might be expecting a 303 acid-bass line to breakout.

The 13-minute “Control Top” again revolves around repetition, and begins with tape hiss and muted bass. A twisted keys cascade in and out of the mix as contorted vocals and electronics are added, and the rhythm keeps driving on and on. In my head I visualise a packed dance floor completely enraptured and lost in the psychedelia of this wonderful track. 

“Feel The Energy” opens with ten seconds of ambient background noise, once more evoking the raw texture of a live to tape recording. A gritty, processed male voice breaks through with the repeated warning, “Emergency! Emergency! Intruder alert!”, clearing the way for a low slung, mid tempo bass line to emerge. The track reeks of pure New York sleaze, using abrasive effects to amplify its electronic punk edge. 

A stripped-back energetic drum beat kicks off the next track keeping things incredibly direct. After a call and response exchange, “Are you a Subwoofer Speaker Freaker?” answered by a seductive “Yeah”, this number settles into its intentionally basic filthy rhythm. It’s an instant earworm, relying on unadulterated swagger and simplicity to hook the listener.

The closing three tracks deliver undiluted, hedonistic euphoria. Leading the charge is “Pombagira” – possibly a reference to the Afro-Brazilian spirit – which is an acid house monster, that pummels the dancers, instantly conjuring mental images of flashing strobes and thick clouds of smoke. “S’weat” follows, and fully embodies its high intensity name. Drum breaks are dubbed out and interspersed with the fast, dirty B-line, with altered state vocal snippets repeating the track title. Finally, “Squeezed Into These Jeans” is a minimalist, repetitive groove anchored by deep sub-bass and a flurry of energetic hi-hats and drum patterns.

“Wet” is a fierce uncompromising record that drives its point home with raw attitude. It is blunt and direct, blending futuristic electronics with a gritty, retro NYC punk aesthetic. While engineered perfectly for gay S&M dance floors its sonic depth makes it just as compelling for home listening. In these turbulent times this essential record delivers the exact burst of energy, defiance and love we all desperately need.

Black Meteoric Star’s “Wet” can be ordered directly from Ransom Note.