Tessela: "Hackney Parrot / Helter Skelter" (via SoundCloud)

Breakbeat music—bursting with high tempos and rowdy blare—has had an uneasy reputation within UK club culture for some time, and negative connotations of an aggression-fueled drum'n'bass scene, combined with the recent gold rush of slick, chart-bothering house, only seemed to solidify its outlier status. But over the past year, a steady trickle of attention has forced jungle through the barricades once more. Discussion about the motifs and implications of revivalism has followed in its wake, but Ed Russell—aka Tessela—isn’t coming from this angle. Although afforded early exposure to the tougher side of electronic music under guidance of older brother Tom, who has been plying his blown-out wares as Truss for years, at 24 he's too young to have firsthand experience. So he isn’t attempting to resuscitate faded memories by crafting pastiches, or cynically surf cresting hype. His music exists purely in order to dance.

That his overarching mission statement lines up perfectly with the slogan of 30-year-old Belgian dance label R&S is fitting (though he nearly missed their call-up, assuming the initial email to be spam). Following a remix to test the waters, September brought Nancy’s Pantry, an exemplary three-track EP of weapons-grade bombast. Russell’s music begins with a specific set of touchstones, taking clear influence from the early 90s, when ‘ardkore began mutating into a bastard form of proto-jungle; these signifiers are then upended and placed within a contemporary techno framework. The EP's title track is especially volatile, bringing a plunging scree of low-end careening across the mix into a delirious drum break, like a cartoon character mistiming a run and skidding into a wall.

Tessela: "Nancy's Pantry" (via SoundCloud)

Before the EP, "Hackney Parrot", the first (and as of now only) release on his own Poly Kicks imprint, ran rampant across the past 18 months, teased-out extensively before being finally unleashed in March. By Russell’s own approximation, that track's squawking rave vocals and vague whiff of B-more silliness went down “much, much better than expected,” then given second wind by a screw-facing Special Request remix that proved potent all summer. 

We link up on a bitter December evening in London, Russell finding time for a pint in between a session at his brother’s Soho studio and a meeting with fellow forward-thinking beatmaker Kowton. He is in high spirits, reflecting on the past year with an endearing sense of self-deprecation and expressing glee at having been booked to play alongside bouncy rave progenitors 2 Bad Mice in the coming months. After a period of realignment spent gaining confidence to properly do justice to his ‘ardkore dalliances without compromise, as well as waiting for the wider scene to play catch-up, he now has a clear idea which direction he wants to go: down the wormhole.

Pitchfork: Your music has a very distinct feel, when did that sound become a focal point? 

Tessela: People often say that my music is jungle-informed, but I very rarely cite it as one of my influences. Hardcore is a much bigger influence for me. Although I was always aware of the whole scene, it was only about four or five years ago that I started looking backwards, digging up the old stuff and getting an idea of the lineage of UK music. I recognized a lot of the sounds from jungle and drum'n'bass, which I absorbed when I was about 15 through bad CD compilations and going to dodgy raves. But I don't really ever listen to jungle anymore—I find the couple of years that led up to jungle much more inspiring. 

Lately I've been noticing my attention span getting shorter and shorter and have had to start actively avoiding all the constant drips of information that surrounds us on the web. But you're influenced so much by what's going on around you, whether you like it or not. And it's very difficult to judge where it'll go. I can see more localized sounds becoming increasingly appreciated: people seeking a sense of identity, be it a place or label or particular sound—anything with which they can define themselves. That’s been really apparent in 2013.

Pitchfork: How would you describe your style of DJing?

T: In a nutshell: all over the place. I've never really been one for sticking to one style or era and riding that out for a few hours. My favorite DJs are those that manage to piece together stuff from different places yet make it sound like its all from the same place. It's really important to be totally at ease if you want to start pushing boundaries, but until then it can be daunting. You have all these ideas of stuff you’re going to try out in the club and then you get there and your head turns into a nervous mulch, and it all goes out the window. Although I'm pretty new to the DJing game, I'm feeling increasingly comfortable behind those decks.

When I first started DJing properly last year, I was just taking on any gigs that were coming in and it meant nine times out of 10 I would be compromising the music I wanted to play. It was getting to the point where promoters would book me under a false pretence, then would come up and tell me I was scaring people off. It's mainly down to "Hackney Parrot" I think: A bit of mindless rave, but that's why it works. It wouldn't have worked if I tried to make it all weird and detailed. But some people have booked me just on the back of that, and it's not the best indicator of what my sets generally sound like.

Tessela: "Horizon" (via SoundCloud)

Pitchfork: You've done a handful of live shows with your brother. Has that confidence to perform come from using more hardware?

T: We just sort of gave it a go after both being booked to DJ the same gig in Ireland. It's pretty much improvised. We have so much fun with it. I notice a different level of energy, knowing that the temperamental nature of the machines means it could all go wrong really easily. Having that element is really important, it makes for a more human experience. Also, seeing as me and Tom don't really know where we're going next, we'll often be shouting to one another: "bass in 5,4,3,2,1—go!" The crowd seems to enjoy that.

Pitchfork: I heard you played a hardcore record at his wedding?

T: I played quite a few! It was great, it turned into a rave in a pub in East London. We hung up loads of fluorescent string and fired lights through it so it looked like lasers, brought in a smoke machine. My mum was on the dancefloor with a glow stick in hand, full-on rave mode.

Pitchfork: What's your plan like for 2014?

T: I've hopefully got a second release out in March on R&S, which will be my most substantial to date, plus another few remixes as well. They truly are one of my favorite labels; when the offer came through, I didn't really have any hesitation. Then I really want to start to develop my label Poly Kicks, I've signed some really interesting stuff recently—if I can get two records out next year on there I will have done twice as well as this year. [laughs]