One of Norwegian house’s more eccentric synthesists, Bjørn Torske tends to approach dance music with an attention to spaciousness that’s usually the main province of dub producers. Turning up the volume on Feil Knapp (highly recommended) means widening all the negative space on the record, leaving melody-first minimalist pieces like “Hemmelig orkester” and its rhythm-heavy counterpoint “Tur i maskinparken” sounding roomily immersive, while also causing the funkier, dance-minded cuts (“Hatten passer”; “God kveld”) to wrap around you like a sweater. But that’s not his only trick: when he’s not tweaking and gliding his way through ambient, glitch, and nu-disco, Torske’s actually diving headlong into dub reggae itself, concocting goofy but studious little nods to Prince Jammy Destroys the Invaders computer skank (“Spelunker”) and the more dread-stoked and moody corners of 2Tone ska (“Kapteinens skjegg”). And feel free to sink into the warm environs of “Møljekalas,” which simultaneously recalls the archly tropical retro-swing of Kid Creole and the Coconuts and the jùjú reverie of King Sunny Ade.