Mad, donking club trax from some mischievous blighter named Club Winston. RIYL that spoof Ben Klock Boiler Room...
Just straight up donks, fills and FX at 150bpm for those who like their WKD cold and fizzy.
Keenly awaited follow-up to Russell Haswell’s groundbreaking n0!ze-tekno classic of 2014 '37 Minute Workout’, a spontaneously combusting mix of analog/digital synths and modular systems edited on a computer and inspired by a visit to CERN, The European Organisation for Nuclear Research. Highly recommended if yr into Xenakis, The Latin Rascals, Incapacitants, Jeff Mills, UR, Yasunao Tone...
There are few artists who can genuinely make music that sounds like your needle and/or record is melting, but Russell Haswell is one of them. His 2nd volume of extremely kinky calisthenics is a potent example of daring to be different in a world where exponentially increasing production options are leading producers of all stripes to the exact same conclusions. But, with thanks to Russell’s iconoclastic intent, restless nature and ascetic aesthetics, he still sounds quite like nobody else, and, even better yet, doesn’t give a shit if you like it or not.
Crowbarring cues ranging from the Latin Rascals to Incapacitants and Jeff Mills into 7 wickedly awkward designs, Haswell keeps his avant aerobics radically irregular as he hops from the tendon-twitching angularity of ‘The Wild Horses of the Revolution have arrived Without Knight’ to steel-hoofed clatter in ‘Central Crisis Management Cell’ and the lacquer-eating dynamics of ‘Painful Memories From The Past Need To Be Acknowledged’, before toning a proper nasty acid special in the UR inversion ‘Dancing on the Head of an Eagle’, and seemingly sucking your brain out thru a straw with ‘Starting Something You’re Not Able To Finish’, with the dry witted, skeletal jazz-funk squirm of ‘Diplomatic Cocktail Circuit’ closing the party down in style.
This is f×cking amazing - a second volume of desolate, ambient themes from David Lynch’s sound designer and mixer of choice Dean Hurley, one of those behind-the-scenes guys whose work most subtly colours the popular imagination. If you’re into anything from Deathprod to Badalamenti to Mica Levi’s 'Under the Skin’, the more ascetic end of work from Leyland Kirby / The Caretaker, or Aphex Twin’s ’Selected Ambient Works Vol II” - this will rule your world.
Having operated and managed David Lynch’s Asymmetrical sound Studio for 13 years, Dean Hurley only appeared on our radar a couple of years ago with his sound design for the third season of Twin Peaks, and the first volume of his Anthology Resource which collected some of that work. During those 13 years - a period that began just before ‘Inland Empire’ - Hurley was basically there to create, mix and edit any sound artefacts Lynch required - a process that evidently allowed him the freedom to innovate through pretty much limitless experimentation. As a result, Hurley is now without question one of the most striking sound designers and supervisors working in film & television right now, steering well clear of overly emotive/manipulative cliche and instead focusing on the minutiae of sound in a way thay recalls the classic, pre-digital era.
His Anthology Resource is an ongoing series curated from his work for film and television in the library / production music tradition, as well as a series of albums in their own right, with this second volume 'Philosophy of Beyond’ collecting 12 pieces made in residency for Art Gallery of New South Wales’ event Masters of Modern Sound, and contributions to Eddie Alcazar's feature film ‘Perfect’ - mostly assembled from tape loops and field recordings.
While it’s fair enough to wheel out a usual list of ambient/atmospheric comparisons with ‘SAW II’, Brian Eno, Leyland Kirby, and indeed David Lynch’s own early work with Badalamenti, that’s really just to show what class Hurley is operating in - his music clearly possessing its own, menacing magick that stays with you long after the music has stopped, just like the imagery he is so highly adept at scoring.
Slow, methodical organ recordings on this major new work from Kali Malone; a quietly subversive double album featuring almost two hours of concentrated, creeping organ pieces governed by a strict acoustic and compositional code with ultimately profound emotional resonance. Featuring additional organ pieces performed by Ellen Arkbro and mastering by Rashad Becker, you’re gonna wanna spent time with this one.
‘The Sacrificial Code’ takes a more surgical approach to the methods first explored on last year’s ‘Organ Dirges 2016 - 2017’. Over the course of three parts performed on three different organs, Malone’s minimalist process captures a jarring precision of closeness, both on the level of the materiality of the sounds and on the level of composition.The recordings here involved careful close miking of the pipe organ in such a way as to eliminate environmental identifiers as far as possible - essentially removing the large hall reverb so inextricably linked to the instrument. The pieces were then further compositionally stripped of gestural adornments and spontaneous expressive impulse - an approach that flows against the grain of the prevailing musical hegemony, where sound is so often manipulated, and composition often steeped in self indulgence. It echoes Steve Reich’s sentiment “..by voluntarily giving up the freedom to do whatever momentarily comes to mind, we are, as a result, free of all that momentarily comes to mind.”
With its slow, purified and seemingly austere qualities ‘The Sacrificial Code’ guides us through an almost trance-inducing process where we become vulnerable receptors for every slight movement, where every miniature shift in sound becomes magnified through stillness. As such, it’s a uniquely satisfying exercise in transcendence through self restraint - a stunning realisation of ideas borne out of academic and conceptual rigour which gradually reveals startling personal dimensions. It has a perception-altering quality that encourages self exploration free of signposts and without a preordained endpoint - the antithesis to the language of colourless musical platitudes we've become so accustomed to.
On the summer solstice 2019 the extended Warp family came together with online radio station NTS to celebrate the label’s 30th anniversary. Now, as the summer draws to a close, Warp continue the radio theme with the announcement of a special set of releases. WXAXRXP Sessions features ten specially selected sessions recorded for radio from across the history of the label, from the very early days right up to the aforementioned WXAXRXP x NTS weekend. In the age of immediate, unelected, often low-quality rips of anything that is broadcast, these releases present each session in the highest quality adorned in beautiful packaging designed by Michael Oswell.
This one’s a killer 1995 Peel Session by Richard D James, aired around the time of the Donkey Rhubarb and I Care Because You do albums, featuring the much sought-after “Original’, percussive version of Selected Ambient Works II’s ‘Radiator’, plus ' Slo Bird Whistle’ and more. This is prime era Aphex, proper pearls, the lot of them.
Sähkö are keeping schtum about this ace enigma from “an experimental artist willing to stay anonymous on this project”, although they do mention a likeness to Nurse With Wound, Hafler Trio, Zoviet*France…
Presented under the low key moniker, …, ‘No Title’ sounds like a night in an abandoned wooden cabin in the arctic circle with CM Von Hausswolff, and only a reel to reel and a broken radio for company. Left to your devices and each other, the result is séance-like and utterly captivating, metaphorically leaving listeners in the dark surrounded by spirits that speak like the wind thru cracked windowpanes.
In the first part, any dilettantes will be scared off by the introductory 6 minutes of crackling static and looming low register tones, but those who see it thru will be subsequently immersed in doom sonic worth of Helge Sten’s Deathprod, CMvH, or Mika Vainio at his bleakest, before the piece peels away into puristic sines recalling Eleh or Eliane Radigue’s fluctuating partials as much as The Conet project.
Ultimately, the trip ends with the respite of human voices, although we’re not sure whether we were hiding from them in the first place or are welcome to hear them, as they remain at a distance, intangibly muffled and outta reach.
Our money’s on Kevin Drumm, but your guess is as good as ours.