Breakthru avant-soul expressionist Slauson Malone plays out two instrumental loose sketches in wickedly elusive style on his label, Grand Closing
Esteemed for his production on Danny Brown’s ‘uknowhatimsayin¿’ and emergent body of solo work, LA’s Saluson Malone grants access to stranger nooks of his swede with two amorphous, off-kilter sketches for bass guitar, synth, FX and smeared vocal textures.
‘Smile #8 (Je3's Eextendedd Megadance Version for Star)(see page 182)’ is proper cumbersome title for his sweetly smudged bit of oily bass guitar fretwork and angular sampledelia in a jazz fusion mode, while ‘Ssmmiillee ##55’ kills the lights for a more brooding investigation of negative space hashed with headless choral glossolalia and shapeshifting organ figures describing a sort of smudged symphony in K-hole freefall.
Holy fùck! Dar Es Salaam’s 19 y.o. DJ Travella pins the singeli flag at the pinnacle of Afrofuturist road and club music for 2022 with an incendiary introduction via Kampala’s Nyege Nyege Tapes.
Marking five years since NNT revolutionised international perceptions of East African music with the ’Sounds of Sisso’ comp, Hamadi Hassani aka DJ Travella naturally pushes the envelope of Tanzanian singeli in his own image; hybridising elements of Atlantan rap, rave, R&B and dembow into its hi-NRG 200bpm brackets with equal amounts of discipline and vision. It’s worth getting very excited about, throwing down 13 gobsmacking new dance variants with a rambunctious, hypercolourful alacrity that can’t help but set flames to any ‘floor.
Notably unaffiliated with the foundational singeli power centres of Pamoja or Sisso Studios, yet arriving at compatibly rampant conclusions, DJ Travella’s cyber-singeli update lends more space and colour to the format while holding fast to its breakneck torque and peaktime mania. Thru the prism of Fruity Loops DAW he meshes blistering traditional melody with snippets of film music and hyperwavey ATL top-lines in an urgent, sexy style the label aptly compare to “Timbaland conjuring a Thunderdome soundtrack for a Tanzanian street party”, and which remarkably resembles the upfront rudeness of NE english Monta Musica, Latin paso doble styles, or DJ Diaki’s rabid Malian Balani for that matter.
Between the full frontal rave alarm of ‘Crazy Beat Music Umeme 1’ with its hyper-Timbo strings, to the set’s relatively slower, sensuous highlight ‘London Jomon Beat’, the levels are blazing high between the seesaw synth bite and Chicago percolator sounds of ‘FL Beat’, the hardstyle helter-skelter of ‘Crazy Beat Music Umeme 2’, and the sped up Bollywood-like chirrup of ‘Tambasana’, with melodies that will light up the cowie jaws on ‘Dope2’ and proper, heads-down killers on ‘Good Beat’ or the frenetic jigginess of ‘Kaz0’.
It’s all nutty and exhilarating in thee best way = Unmissable!
Volume number 6 from yr friendly ghostephoners.
This one's on an atmospheric, almost weightless flex, nodding to classic Burial (rain on paving stones, slowed autotuned vox), but paired with trills and robust/delayed drums on 'No More Puppy Love', while 'If This World Were Mine' references Actress' Thriller edits with some added/clipped hardcore breaks and full bore reverb.
If yr gonna do edits, do em like dis.
'Hecker Leckey Sound Voice Chimera' presents a radical mashup of works by two probing, multidisciplinary artists among the most vital of their generation.
First realised as part of a two day performance at Tate Modern called 'Push and Pull', it offers a mutant configuration of Leckey's vocal track from 'GreenScreenRefrigeratorAction' (the eerie inner monologue of a Samsung fridge, as heard on the B-side of his 'Fiorucci Made Me Hardcore' vinyl and viewable on youtube), scrambled, decomposed and modulated with Hecker's '3 Channel Chronics' - a sound installation also debuted in 2010, where distinct sounds from three suspended speakers were combined and altered by visitors movements.
The resultant combination, a piercingly abrasive sonic warp visually reflected in the album artwork, intersects both artists' work on a number of levels: the ideas of cultural transcendence core to Leckey's work, correlating with notions of chimerisation - the synthesis of genetically discrete elements; the 3-headed beast of Greek mythology - algorithmic chronics (morphing patterns) and psychophysical audition central to Hecker's practice. Ultimately it sounds utterly freakish, somewhere between the voices of T-1000's mimetic poly-alloy in T2: Judgement Day as he's lowered into molten metal by Arnie's T-800, and a seriously frustrating skype call to Polynesia, if you follow.
No doubt it's not easy listening, but it is deeply satisfying- both conceptually and aesthetically - if you like that kinda thing.
Singapore-raised, London-based cyborg Yeule toys with quiet/loud dynamics and neo-expressionist electronic pop idioms on a breakthru album of AI lullabies and post-human fever dreams - RIYL Lena Raine, Grimes, Eartheater
‘Glitch Princess’ is a sprawling yet exactingly stylised showcase of Yeule’s hypermodern pop, weaving aspects of computer game soundtracks, ‘90s grunge and shoegaze, with epic R&B balladeering, in a wholly 2022-ready record of the times. Fragile, whispered lyrics about self-love, lust and the emotions that came flooding back after the artist’s self-imposed sobriety are framed in world-building aesthetics, intended to express the artist’s unbound identity and the freedoms felts as a non-binary artist.
The dozen songs toe the finest line between sincere and corny, drawing upon all the conventions available to spunky young hyper pop sprites and magpie-picking the most luridly effective for an unabashed expo of Yeule’s style that attempts to find depth in its ornate surface detail and immediacy. We’re really drawn in by the icily naif, confessional opener ‘My Name Is Nat Cmiel’, and find ourselves simultaneously attracted/repelled by sashays between saccharine, saturated harmonies and syrupy torch songs, with curious cuts of screwed grunge-dreampop piquing our interests in ‘Perfect Blue’ and the curbed Avrilian enthusiasm of ‘Don’t Be So Hard On Your Own Beauty’, or noise-pop of ‘Fragments’ and the crystalline seduction of ‘Friendly Machine’, which comes off like Fuck Buttons meets FKA Twigs.
DJ Plead switches gears for a more infectious, slow and deadly percussive whirl on this killer 40 minute session for our Documenting Sound series, mostly recorded on a Yamaha ‘Oriental’ keyboard and inspired by the likes of CS + Kreme’s ’Snoopy’ album and Felix Hall’s dancehall mixtapes. Proper spacious, all-tension-no-release gear from one of the best in the game.
Recorded and sent from his home in Sydney, ‘Relentless Trills’ sees Jarred Beeler aka DJ Plead dismantling his much-loved hard drum club style. Dropping the tempo and conserving energy levels across a suite of smoky, tense works, he matches the waviest microtonal vamps with the signature, rhythmelodic lilt of his drums in a properly hypnotic style.
Equally influenced by vintage dancehall riddims and the inspirational glow of CS + Kreme's psycho-ambient heartmelters, the results sound to our ears like an offshoot of Mutamassik releases for DJ/Rupture’s Soot, or Shackleton slowed to a hash-smoking drift and heading on a Mahraganat tip. A hazy introductory piece of autotuned vocals and digital bass prodding seduces from the front, with the vibe spilling out into deep, spaced-out dancehall pressure with deliriously strong works almost nodding to Timbaland and The Neptunes in ‘RT5’, closing on a mesmerising beatless highlight in ‘RT6’ to seal the deal.
Deadly Malian fusions of local styles with western psych, blues and afro-beat, led by the flame-tipped fingers of electric guitar player Zani Diabaté, comparable with fingerstyle gods Ali Fake Touré or Rail Band’s Djelimady Tounkara
Trading in proper music for heads and feet, Super Djata Band de Bamako, to give them their full title, were among Mali’s top orchestras by the late ‘70s and into the ‘80s, when ‘En Super Forme Vol.1’ was recorded and issued by Ivory Coast’s Musique Mondiale in 1982. While their sound was staunchly rooted in the traditional rhythms and melodies of the Bambara people of southern Mali, it was patently porous to return influence from the American blues it begat, as heard in the tempered electric guitar fire of bandleader Zani Diabaté that grips us for the album’s duration.
Initially slow, swaying, in ‘Fongnana Koum’ Diabaté’s instrumental improv at its halfway point signals the fire to come in its massive highlight ’Nama Djidja’, where the band really pick up their knees for a driving psych-blues and afro-beat winner, whereas that energy is cooled off and languid on the more traditional sounding harmonies of ‘Sisse Na Djolo’, while the drums comes forward in ‘Batila’ in synch with Diabaté’s lip-bitingly tight lead. Yowzers.
Bijou DIY-ers Notte Brigante are back in longplayer spheres, unearthing this set of elusive industrial-mode percolators that cross synth-age zones in a way that’s almost impossible to accurately date.
The mode is slow and pure, you could be listening to a lost John Bender volume on V-O-D or something contemporary in that style, the production is faithfully analogue and fucked, all drum machine fuzz, space echo and delay pedals deployed with attack and verve.
The sales notes say something about a “dark-ish fever dance of many styles” - which is kinda on the money - if yr into the classic DIY synth styles, cassette culture or that Mecánica Popular peach - this one will push yr buttons, no doubt.
The first release on Séance Centre's 'Speculative Ethnography’ series comes from Alan Briand aka Shelter, deploying slow drum machine pulsations and delay pedals over a wash of smudged keys, harmonised melodica and clipped effects. Industrial-zone DIY-ers - your time!
"Recorded directly to cassette 4-track late at night in Briand’s apartment in Paris with a gathering of temperamental vintage gear, Le Sommeil Vertical captures a somnambulant journey into vibrant analog nether-regions. The hazy sonics harken back to ‘80s DIY cassette culture, but refracted through a prism of fourth world melodics and early IDM rhythm experiments.
The tracks are titled after Burroughs’ Cities of the Red Night, and the book acts as a talisman for the album, setting sci-fi surrealism within expansive arid psychic landscapes. The trance-inducing terrain, mapped out in warm 1/4” tape, moves through phased backstreets, AFX-arrondissements, and dub municipalities. This is music on the nod, an elixir for the sleepwalking flaneur."
Wanda Group crawls inside your ear and plays out an abstract dramaturgy of haptic whorls and macrocosmic events with the bleeding ooze of Central Heating, his 2nd LP for Opal Tapes after 2013’s widely acclaimed Piss Fell Out Like Sunlight slab.
Like some metaphysical Eugene Tooms character from X-Files hybridised with salad fingers, the wiry blighter flosses your head with a frayed concrète ribbon of texturhythmic pattern and long, pointy digits that really get in there and fiddle around the grey goo.
A Bag of Warm Milk evokes the sensation of extruding your mind thru a nice, warm set of pipes in a haunted OAP’s home set on the moors, or maybe the boiler room of an ancient hospital, imagining you/him as particle convected thru time and space in state of amniotic bliss, not a f**king care in the world.
On the other hand, Easy in the Future is conversely warning and alert, vacillating passages of panicked dissonance and pensive ambience picking up the rumbles of distant traffic. Of course there is possibly some deeper meaning to it all, then again, it might just be meant to feel nice and trippy and make your teeth curl.
Chuff knows, but we like it a lot.
K. Leimer and Marc Barreca's fourth album, "Drowning Guides".
"Marc Barreca and Kerry Leimer have worked on a nearly parallel musical course for more than forty years. Nearly parallel because their musical paths do occasionally cross. First in 1980 with Four Pages From An Unfinished Novel on K. Leimer’s first solo album Closed System Potentials. Again during the live performance of Music For Land And Water and for the massive loop piece “Heart Of Stillness” from The Neo-Realist (At Risk) by the virtual group Savant.
Beyond basic file sharing, their recordings resolve tensions between distinct extremes of restrictive rules, defined procedures, improvisation, conscientious editing, and an ear for expansive details and contrasts. Their collaborative process is intended to subvert traditional and accepted methods of composition, instrumental voicing, signal processing, recording, and mixing with the goal of generating music that lives on the boundaries between established practice and profound impracticalities.
The search for new compositional approaches continues with Drowning Guides. The album deliberately limits their collaborative exchange to re-voicing MIDI tracks. All audio was then returned to the originator to process, edit, mix and finalize the form. The music of Drowning Guides fixates on shifting textures and voices drawn through layers of processing and manipulation, emerging as a complete and distinct audio language."
Heat-seeking, puxa-style blends of semba, merengue, kompas, soukouss, coladeira from the two Portuguese-speaking islands of Sao Tomé & Príncipe in the Gulf of Guinea
Stemming from the lively ‘Léve Léve: Sao Tomé & Príncipe Sounds 70s-80s Vol.1’ of 2019, which was crucial listening for anyone checking the roots of current Lisbon Kuduro, made by the islands’ international diaspora, this set doubles down with a dozen more super infectious and needlepoint-intricate groovers.
Similar to, yet distinct from West African styles, Africa Negra’s tunes hustle hard but playful in a sweetspot between styles, as is so often found with respectvie island musics across the world. From the chiming top line guitar melodies and percolated dreams of ‘Carambola’ to the more languid charms of ‘Gina Me Mu Mole’ its brimming with good times vibes, with wickedly off-kilter tone to ‘Saozinha’ that’s really reminding us of DJ Nigga Fox’s more recent workouts, while ‘Zun Zon Pedlelu’ plays it down and lighter with effervescent appeal, and again it’s hard not to draw liens from he distinct rhythms of ‘Qua Na Bua Nega Fa’ to the modern day permutations of Lisbon’s amazing Príncipe label.
Barcelona-based sound engineer Andrés Satué aka Huma follows a slew of releases on his own Hedonic Reversal label with this kinetic slab of deconstructed machine-funk modulations for Opal Tapes. RIYL Gábor Lázár, Rian Treanor et al.
Ex-math rocker Satué brings that same algebraic energy to his obsessively engineered electronics, splitting apart dance music and sound design tropes to create cybernetic rhythm experiments in the Mark Fell/SND mode. On 'Flex', hollow kicks rumble thru twinkling cinematic plucks, splitting sheets of heaving noise and grim baroque soundscapes - those same veil-piercing drums burn overdriven wails and music box chimes on 'Interact', stuttering with all the intensity of Autechre's enduring 'Confield'.
There's a stylistic coherence to 'Hyperchaotic' that separates it from so much similar material - Satué uses a harmonic soundset from track to track, so the sonic landscape he creates feels unified throughout. You can listen from beginning to end and it's not always obvious when one track ends and one begins, tempos shift with the gliding flexibility of a knife thru butter, and rhythms mutate like tainted cells in a petri dish.
Fascinating out-sound private press weirdness here recorded in 1977 by Alvin Curran. Completely unique vocal drones - no electronics! - for anyone into La Monte Young or Meredith Monk.
In 1973, Italian composer Roberto Laneri assembled an improvisational vocal ensemble using singers who were completely untrained. He wanted to develop sounds that existed outside the academic form, and come up with original techniques that pushed the boundaries of established vocal music. Over the next few years, Laneri, alongside Claudio Ricciardi, Gianni Nebbiosi and Susanne Hendricks, worked out a method of using overtones to extend drones and mimic synthesizers and harmonium sounds with untreated throat techniques. Decades later, the group's sole album "La Coda Della Tigre" still sounds like nothing else.
The album was recorded by acclaimed minimalist Alvin Curran, and initially released on Ananda, the label he ran alongside Laneri and Giacinto Scelsi."The music of Prima Materia may sound radically new, yet at the same time it is likely to ring some distant bell and evoke ancient emotions," read the album's liner notes. It's a statement that still feels relevant - there's an ancient, ritualistic sound to "La Coda Della Tigre" but its construction feels advanced and futuristic. The album sits neatly alongside minimalist work from Terry Riley or La Monte Young, or Meredith Monk's dynamic vocal experiments, but needs to be heard to be believed. Fantastic music.
Restive hyper-garage from Steel City renegade 96 Back, conjuring his soundtrack for a 360º immersive experience by Sheffield’s digital design team Human Studio.
‘The Neon Pack’ website is down, so we can’t comment on how the music relates to its object, but we can tell you that this is 96 Back showing off his sound designer chops; testing out his mutable club styles in the recoiling 2-step and whipsmart chords of ‘Hopertrope’ before jettisoning the drum anchor and conducting the silty brownian motion and chattering bot voices of ‘Taxi Requiem’ and approaching a sort of moodier hyperbaric chamber music akin to 0PN in ‘Concrete Out-Gio’.
Manny horn player, bandleader, writer and activist Angus Fairbairn, aka Alabaster Deplume, digs deep on GOLD, a forking double-album of big-hearted jazz that unspools the past to root itself decidedly in the present. RIYL Angel Bat Dawit, Duval Timothy, Makaya McCraven or Sam Gendel.
Fairbairn doesn't hide behind his musical skill - he's completely open-hearted on GOLD, using anecdotes, good humor and witty poetry to ask listeners to love themselves and each other, without sounding completely crunchy Los Angeles. It's his Northern wit and soft accent that spikes his message with a self-deprecating honesty, so when he half-sings that he still remembers his dealer's phone number but forgets his own worth on 'Don't Forget You're Precious', you completely believe him.
Assisted by a large ensemble of vocalists, instrumentalists, synth wizards and percussionists, Fairbairn rattles through a library-referencing sound that straddles jazz history. It's neither heady improv nor skronky modernism, but slicked with references to big band, folk, gospel, blues and funk without descending into choppy eclecticism. The glue is Fairbairn's voice, that wisps through the luscious instrumental backdrops like fairy dust, stopping riffs short of being overfamiliar or dusty drums from falling into nostalgia. He's got charm in spades too, charging that open hearted spirit thru his collaborators.
Another wildly lush sounding record from the irrepressible International Anthem Recording Co.
Muscut founder Dmytro Nikolaienko returns after last year's ace Fatische album 'Rings' with a ferric tribute to 1960s and 1970s exotica records intended to celebrate the Mesozoic Era. Bonkers stuff, and kinda great.
'Nostalgia Por Mesozóica' is Nikolaienko's attempt to recreate an exotik mood while channeling the imagined world of the dinosaurs. He wanted to produce a Natural History museum soundtrack to the Mesozoic Era (the "Age of Reptiles" comprising the Triassic, Jurassic and Cretaceous periods), and has managed it by combining the quirky organ music and Fourth World-adjacent percussion that became the staples of the exotica genre. In Nikolaienko's hands, it's approached with love and care - his sound sources are familiar and funny - with clearly a lot of genuine love for the subject matter.
'The Ancient Musical Complex Of Mammoth Bones' deploys bargain basement plastic rhythms offset by Nikolaienko's odd electronic treatments and hypnotic synths. 'Misantropicalia' is a swampy approximation of a distant era, using nostalgic memories of the past to connect the dots between aesthetic oldness, archaic global musical traditions and a collapsing culture. At its best, the album sounds like the high points of ex-Skater Spencer Clark's varied catalog (think Vodka Soap or Monopoly Child Star Searchers) and harmonizes with Christina Vantzou's bizarre and brilliant "Multi Natural" full-length.
With Tiga on the dials, Richie Hawtin and Chilly Gonzales re-imagine 1998's slow acid classic 'Consumed' as an after dinner piano recital. It's a record full of conceptual chutzpah, we'll give them that, and in some respects feels so laughably bad/mad that it tips over into a kind of sadomasochistic greatness. If nothing else - it's well worth a listen, for the crack.
Did anyone ever listen to 'Consumed' and wonder what it might sound like if someone jammed along on piano in the next room? Well that's what we're treated to with 'Consumed in Key'. It's hard to tell if it's an inside joke between Canadian besties Tiga, Hawtin and Gonzales - certainly the artwork is a slick bit of genius, taking the original album's iconic hyper-minimal sleeve (a single obelisk-like hole in dark blue on black) and reimagining it in black and white to represent a piano. And the title feels like a stretch, as there's more than one moment when Gonzales' ivory tickling doesn't even seem to be harmonizing with Hawtin's pulsing 303s at all. But aside from that, it's a pure troll.
Not only does 'Consumed in Key' make the original album worse, but it does so in such an unfathomably funny way that it's almost worth hearing just to know it exists. When 'Consumed' was released, it felt like the conclusion of a specific journey for Hawtin as he took acid to its most cavernous, minimal extreme, forgoing riffs and hooks in favor of bass pulsations and unsettling reverb. Adding baroque piano flourishes is the musical equivalent of George Lucas taking an ILM-rendered leak over the original Star Wars trilogy.
"An obsessive fascination untempered by fearful reverence..." the press release reads. We look fwd to Sven Väth playing kazoo over 'Sheet One' next.
Matthew Herbert pulls apart Swiss drummer Julian Sartorious' improvised percussion blasts with his well-worn electronic processes, firing jazz rhythms into swirling and chattering vortexes of noise and delay.
'Drum Solo' isn't a strictly accurate way of describing Herbert and Sartorious' collaboration, it's a cheeky reference to the fact that there aren't any other instruments present in the recording. But Sartorious isn't playing alone, Herbert's processes are just as important as Sartorious' percussion blasts, driving drums through his setup to create inebriated layers of sound that flesh the music out to sound far deeper than a solo job. A good comparison might be Norwegian genre-twisting outfit Supersilent, particularly on the epic 'One Ten', where Herbert twists samples into tuned blasts of synthesized electronics.
While the backbone of the album is jazz improv - think ECM or the fluttering collapsable work of noise-adjacent drummer Chris Corsano - Herbert's processes distort the timeline just enough to fire the record into an electronic space. There are echoes of Autechre's latter-day on 'Twelve Fifty', as Herbert molds tricky beats into buzzing, arhythmic electrical clouds and stuttering neo-IDM structures. On 'Twelve Fifteen', he freezes cymbal scrapes into haunted drones, before launching a choppy, ping'd rhythm that's complex, head-expanding, and kinda funky. Heavy stuff.
Latin masters Aguayo & Villalobos do the samba with properly infectious percussive suss
Chasing up his MDM ace with DJs Pareja, Matias Aguayo gives a 2022 rework of a highlight off his album ‘The Visitor’ (2013), more than doubling its length for a seriously hip-gripping workout replete with his darting, lilting vox. Aguayo’s longtime spar and fellow Chilean/German artist Ricardo Villalobos takes an even longer view with his 12 minute remix hingeing around a tuffer minimal techno bass drum and hi-hat spritz destined for later in the night.
Coarse grained industrial fug from Danish sound artist Ana Fosca, who debuts on Helen Scarsdale with an ominous, spine-chilling sublimation of power electronics, dark ambient and electro-acoustic energies.
Inspired by Simone de Beauvoir, Sylvia Plath, Andrei Tarkovsky and Eliane Radigue, Fosca works with sound in a poetic manner, using recognizable methods but rarely succumbing to familiar tropes. Her latest full-length is a bleak, sometimes sonically oppressive listening experience where voices curve around scraped strings and looping ferric thickets, building a precise narrative rather than simply mimicking Lustmord or Thomas Köner.
When Fosca pushes into noisier territory on 'Solids in Prism', she avoids easy comparison to scene champions like Puce Mary. Fosca's sounds are obscured by layers of grit, her vocals indistinct and overdriven feedback screams manipulated dynamically to avoid obvious sheet noise posturing. "Poised at the Edge of Structure" functions more like a particularly intoxicating industrial cassette, using the grey and brown-hued palette of Maurizio Bianchi or Ramleh, and spiking it with gooey electro-acoustic moves of Nocturnal Emissions.
Classy family portrait from NYC’s Slink crew, cueing up weightless cyberdub, electroid dembow, and screwball steppers by Simisea, Enayet, rrao, and K Wata
Slink by name and nature, the crew prize an efficient, sexy sense of minimalism on their 2nd label compilation. Effectively they present themselves as USA’s answer to Timedance, Nervous Horizon or Mutualism, spelling out a bare bones sound riddled with sinuous electronics by each of the crew’s four members.
Simisea takes the lead with ‘Dámelo’, stepping to a crisp dubwize matrix of pinging chords and metallic 2-step like early Arca meets Second Woman, before Enayet tucks the groove into frayed, tail-chasing syncopations shades away from DJ Plead and Pangaea in ‘GUI Shaap’. rrao is responsible for the EP’s sharpest take on electroid dembow tekkerz in the nervy, nagging jag ‘Tell Me’, and K Wata loosens it up on the swivel-hipped ‘Bone Tags’ with its saucepan-swilled pitch bent drums and gnawing electronic noise.
Completely fucking unhinged genius from perennial audballs Vanligt Folk with a beguiling patchworked 31-track suite of demented electronic wooze, unhinged vocals, sludgy cut-ups and off-piste techno blatz to file somewhere in between CS + Kreme, Autechre, Vainio, Dale Cornish x Fever Ray, mixed with classic Fonal madness, except considerably weirder than any of that sounds.
Fondly remembered around here for their killer ‘Palle Bondo’ 12”, Vanligt Folk’s David Sundqvist and Jessie Garon reprise that sort of madness with an extra dose of lysergic slipperiness on ‘Black Friday Hele Uka’. Sloshing their psyches over 31 tracks, they skewer and subvert yr expectations - whatever those might be - herding a big sack of screwed samples thru mutant wormholes that bend and buckle between splayed 2-step (‘Ett hjul av vatten oh eld’); scrunched up techno (‘En himmel att längta till’) and tripped-out acid (‘Sanger far barndomen’); plus freakish psych-folk (‘Kult af nada’ and ’Swedish dad’), and inexplicable acid-pop audness (‘(Af) kött’ and ‘’Arbæ’), all delivered with uncompromising sense of daring.
If u like yr shit fully screwed and unpredictable, this is it.