Hardware badboy Krikor Kouchian follows a series of pearls for L.I.E.S. and that hugely sought-after 'Building Arnold Schwarzenegger’ score with another indispensable collection of free-hand ruggedness and squashed productions reminding us why he's one of the best in the game. Huge tip if yr into owt from the first pair of MMM 12”s to vintage Delroy Edwards - killer gear!
Harnessing a bucking bronco of a session, Krikor puts his machines thru their paces in 10 parts (plus 5 bonus tracks) ranging from kerb-crawling sleaze to scratchy ambient and some scorching hardcore techno and distorted electro over the course of ‘J.O.N.E.S.Y. Vol.2.’ Prone to bleed into the red, the tape follows a hunch for crazed rhythms and sour synths suited to striding or skulking around Paris late at night, living your crankiest life as protagonist in a noirish cyberpunk fantasy, off to score some power-ups or on some special psy-ops.
The track sequencing moderates its gait between the sizzling swag of ‘Walking Ghosts’ and the fetish club techno impulses of ‘Chainsaw Cut Rhythm’, or turning blind corners from the needling terror of ‘Phase Operator’ into the electro sludge of ‘Dunces Brain Food’, and the tighter prongs of ‘Mrs. 808 Screws U & Ur Crew Bass Mix’ in both versions, before leaving us on tenterhooks with the disco panic sequence of ‘Axe Murder Kill.’
The first Neotantrik release in five years sees Suzanne Ciani, Andy Votel & Sean Canty group their esoteric energies into an incredible recording made by the trio at the Volksbühne, Berlin in 2014.
Pooling a vast knowledge of 2nd class sound and classic synths, they yield a typically amorphous arrangement of sawn-off, effected samples from records you’ll never find, combined with original electrical input, and mixed into mazy chicanes and ‘marish ginnels of impending doom that never comes to fruition but leaves listeners at the edge of their seats.
The sublime, dark tension of their sound arises from a heightened intuition and democracy of role, with each component selected for its otherworldliness and placed in-the-mix in a manner that creates a chronically disorienting shadowplay of sounds that make their presence felt in the most intangible yet intoxicating manner.
It feels as though we’ve been wandering the tape’s corridors for a whole sleep, ostensibly hunting for a light switch or door handle in the murk, but happy to be pulled into its ambiguous dream/nightmare logic.
Killer, hour-long session of grayscale drones and beating frequencies by The Stomach, channelling arcane eldritch noise in a tradition of UK tape culture for L.I.E.S.
Hailing from a small English town, The Stomach’s raw, pulsating music effectively belongs to a rhizome of parochial noise explorers that connects Broken Flag to Astral Social Club, Colin Potter and Mordant Music.
Its 10 tracks cogitate on the mind-numbing drudgery of life in less-than-exciting places where even bus routes avoid, using a rawly masticated mix of analog electronics to convey a chronic day-to-day smudge of the senses that conversely works as relief from the same thing, drawing a sort of double negative ecstasy from agrarian tedium.
They get top marks for (nearly) naming four tracks after Scottish demigod Kenny Da(l)glish, including the primal thrum of ‘Kenny’s RockNRoll’, but our favourites are the loner mantra of ‘Rocks That Look Like Meat’ and the pebbledashed sputter of ‘Bilko’ where he really nails the feeling of slowly combusting frustration/noisy gratification.
Captivating, new, improvised takes on old Greek Rebetika, returning the style to it looser open ended form, rather than redoing the standards. Really, intoxicating, heady stuff when it hits...
“The duo of Tasos Stamou and Thodoris Ziarkas bring back the improvisational element to the old Greek rebetiko style and expand it towards other avant-garde musical genres.
AMAN!!! #2 Picking it up from their previous cassette album at Sucata Tapes, “AMAN!!!” duo delivers another series of live tracks, this time recorded in Athens and London. The duo of Tasos Stamou and Thodoris Ziarkas bring back the improvisational element to the old Greek rebetiko style and expand it towards other avant-garde musical genres.”
Marie e le Rose is a sound artist, music/art therapist, sound researcher and multi-instrumentalist based in Florence, Italy. She has releases on labels such as Forrest Hill Records, No Problema Tapes, Time Released Sound, Laverna, Zamzam Records, Further Records, Chemical Tapes, Phinery, Hylé Tapes and more, with many monikers for her varying concepts (Marie e le Rose, Moon RA, MonoLogue).
"She has performed at festivals and venues such as Festival Sons Libérés (Bruxelles), Festival La Centrale (Bordeaux), FreeQ (Genova), MamBO museum (Bologna), Galerie Hus (Paris) and Ableton LOOP (Berlin). Her installations have taken place at Pecci museum (Prato), Palazzo Reale (Milano) and more…
"I am a musician and in this moment of my life I am dealing with pain and all that follows… This is an album based on the concept of physical pain, its title taken from the name of a famous theory about it.
I have attempted to communicate – through the sound synesthesia and its movements — the same sensations and disorientation that we can try in times of difficulty and suffering. However, in every track there is a strong dose of energy and struggle, obtained from the timbre and dynamics of many analog instruments (not least the Buchla at EMS in Stockholm). I also used sounds from acoustic instruments, effects, tapes, Walkmans, reel-to-reel recorders, a modular synth and more…
My aim is to work on the perceptions of the listener, making them participate with the emotions – main actors in the relationship between suffering and struggle." – Marie e le Rose, Florence, 30 May 2018.
Left Behind" is a collection of studio-based works, improvisations and sound studies from 2006-2013. They were all intended for release but for one reason or another never made it out into the world.
"Church the Light of the World" (2013) – recorded and sound material found in London, Rotterdam, New York City, Orlando, Derry and Turin between 2009-2013. Indoor and outdoor fielding recordings, found tapes, found objects, found metal and broken cymbals, modular synthesizer and homemade electronic circuits and electronic test equipment.
"Sixty-four Sine Waves Studies: D Aeolian, C Major and G Minor" (2010) – recorded in Kentish Town, London, 2010. Max/MSP.
"Sound for Animation That Never Happened" (2007) – recorded in Archway, London, 2007. Doepfer modular synthesizer.
"No Input Mixer Improvisation" (2006) – recorded in Cricklewood, London, 2006. Mixer, effects pedals and contact mic.
"Warm Room" (2012) – recorded in New Cross, London, 2012. Voice: Frances Morgan. Doepfer modular synthesizer and SuperCollider.
"Modified Portable CD Player" (2011) – recorded in Kentish Town, London, 2011. Modified portable CD player.
"WORM" (2013) – recorded and mixed at WORM Studio in Rotterdam, Netherlands and New Cross, London, 2013. Analogue synthesizers: ARP 2500, ARP 2600, EMS VCS3, Serge Modular, Synton Syrinx, Roland SH-09 and Korg MS20."
Demdike Stare plunge into an ocean of dense, analogue sound disruption on this new work commissioned by Hanno Leichtmann for the Letra-Tone festival, in which they were asked to interpret a score created by graphic designer Scott Massey out of salvaged Letrasets. The result is on a moody and futuristic Concrète tip, full of seething drones, industrial clangs and flute choruses coming in and out of view.
Featuring an hour of new and previously unreleased work, the material here extends as one continuous piece split into two sides, building from meticulously layered field recordings into sheets of drone that coalesce from barely audible murmurations into colossal, reverberant walls of sound. Through a wide and spacious stereo field, we’re led though highly disorientating, sometimes terrifying passages, with long atmospheric sections suddenly disrupted by clanging percussion and found sound panning across the spectrum, before falling back into a kind of deadly, tense fizz.
Almost entirely beatless - except for the odd percussive shudder - it’s a relentlessly moody hour of music that only lets in some light at the very end, where buried strings slowly emerge into a gloriously moving final sequence, where shapes and colour gradually thaw back into being.
Pure future-primitive brilliance.
It’s been 20 years since we heard Smog’s ’Spanish Moss’ for the first time and every Bill Callahan record since has f#cked us up. This is his first new one in years and is quite possibly his best. Supremely beautiful music...
"As you listen to ‘Shepherd In A Sheepskin Vest’, a feeling of totality, of completeness, steals over you, like a thief in broad daylight. Of course it does - you’re listening to a new Bill Callahan record. The first one in almost six years. First, it’s a different kind of record. Bill’s now writing from somewhere beyond his ‘Eagle’-‘Apocalypse’-‘River’ headspace and ‘Shepherd In A Sheepskin Vest’ is very much its own beast. The songs are, by and large, shorter and there are more of them. It took almost all of the previous three albums to add up to that many. Plus, twenty’s a lot of songs.
After ‘Dream River’, Bill’s life went through some changes. Good changes - marriage and a kid - but afterwards, it was suddenly harder for him to find the place where the songs came, to make him and these new experiences over again into something to sing. His songs have always been elusive, landing lightly between character study and autobiography, as the singer-songwriter often does. This felt different, though. After 20 years of putting music first, he wasn’t prepared to go away from it completely. Or was he? The lives of a newlywed, a new parent, they have so much in them - but writing and singing, it was his old friend that had helped him along to this place where he’d so happily arrived. Was there room for everybody? While sorting it all out, he worked on songs every day - which meant that for a while, there were lots of days simply confronting the void, as he measured this new life against the ones he’d previously known.
It informed the shape of the album. Moving gradually from reflections upon the old days in ‘Ballad Of The Hulk’ and ‘Young Icarus’ to the immediacy of the present moment in ‘Watching Me Get Married’ and ‘Son Of The Sea’, Bill traces the different life lines, casually unwinding knotty contradictions and ambiguities with an arresting stillness. The sense of a life thunderstruck by change infuses ‘Shepherd In A Sheepskin Vest’ - the songs wander from expressions of newfound joy and great contentment to other snapshots, considerations of the not-joy that we all know. Unsettling dream-images and mythic recollections are patiently received; the undertow of the past is resisted, pulling against it instead into the present, accepting revolutions of time and the unconscious as a natural flow.
These transcendent expressions are wedded translucently to the music. Acknowledging the uncertainty in which the songs were assembled, Bill went to the studio alone, unsure if he could find what he was looking for with a band riding along - because who knew how long it would take? This allowed the fluidity of his song-thoughts to be laid down with the right feeling. Once there was guitar and vocals, the other parts came. Matt Kinsey’s guitar partnership is an essential relationship within the music, as is Brian Beattie’s acoustic bass - but also, Bill found himself overdubbing parts himself for the first time in many years, which lent the songs an episodic drift, as if he’s passing through rooms while singing.
In its final mix, ‘Shepherd In A Sheepskin Vest’ glows incandescent - an entirely acoustic arrangement, sounds and stories shifting seamlessly, almost like one big song made of a bunch of new stories - the kind that only Bill Callahan thinks to sing. It’s a joy to hear from this old friend - informing all the lives that we’ve led in the hearing."
Björk blooms her most impressive album in a good while with Utopia, featuring co-production by Arca and even a guest spot by Rabit, who both aid in buoying her astonishingly lush and romantic new song cycle. As sincerely optimistic as the title may suggest, Utopia is, by Björk’s own description, her “tinder album”, projecting a positive answer to the tortuous soul-searching of Vulnicura.
We can take or leave a lot of Björk on most days. But this one got us right thurrr. Whether that’s due to the seamless integration of Arca’s virtuosic flourishes, it’s difficult to say. However, the embrace of space and nature, both real and emulated, within Utopia lends an intoxicatingly out-of-body sensation to its songs which beautifully leavens her sometimes overwrought delivery, serving to free up her spirit in the most literal and fascinatingly intangible terms.
Where Arca was brought in at the late stages of Vulnicura to warp its edges, their working relationship immediately spilled over into the recording of Utopia, forging a symbiotic and hugely fruitful relationship with the artist he formerly called his idol. Now creative partners, their powers are multiplied, manifesting the longest single piece of work in either’s catalogue, and arguably their most seductive.
You can literally hear her beaming while she sings over swooping subs, gamer FX and pirouetting harps in Awakening My Senses, whilst the folk phrasing and prettiness of Blissing Me perfectly counters her operatic tendencies. Conversely, the adroit looseness of Arca’s rhythms acutely mirror the expressive meter of Björk’s classical inflections in Body Memory, one of the album’s longest, most immersive highlights, and equally in sweetly fractious form to giddy effect on Losss, which benefits from Rabit’s push ’n pull production.
And even when talking frankly about the darker side of that tinder life in the couplet of Courtship and Sue Me, she pulls off delirious, rugged - but not overbearing - rhythms and skyward-zipping flutes keeping her spirit decidedly up and forward-looking in a way that also informs the album’s heart-cupping conclusion, Future Forever.
'Biophilia' must be one of this year's most anticipated, and lavish album projects.
A number of delays have pushed the release date back, but that was to allow extra input from Leila and Current Value, who join an illustrious production cast including Mark Bell, Matthew Herbert, 16 Bit and El Guincho, plus a full 24-piece Icelandic choir. The results are suitably spectacular, articulating the leading lady's obsessions with virtual reality, physics and nature in ultra-modern and cutting edge fashion. She still sounds like nobody else in the world, and with the multi-dimensional scope of 'Biophilia' Björk continues to represent a questing sonic and artistic vision which many younger artists could well learn from.
As always, it's recommended to forward listening pop fans.
Björk comes to terms with the breakdown of a longterm relationship with some help from Arca, The Haxan Cloak, Antony and Spaces.
It's arguably her most coherent and focused album since 'Vespertine' (2001), her vocals incredibly raw and emotional - understandably in the light of tragic, personal events - yet controlled with near operatic poise and matched by the waking-dream-like qualities of the production's skewed meter and tendencies toward keening, lushly expressive discord. It must be said that Arca really comes into his own here, expanding upon certain rhythmic ideas found in 'Xen' and simultaneously exploring whole new realms of blooming orchestral arrangement rent in HD clarity.
With production work included from Thomas Knack (Opiate), Matthew Herbert, Matmos and Console, and even a sample lifted off Oval’s groundbreaking Systemisch LP, Vespertine is without doubt one of Bjork's most loved albums.
One of the boldest artists merging uncompromising computer music and experimental club music right now, Jung An Tagen returns to Editions Mego with a a thrilling batch of oblique electronics and agitated polyrhythms
Claiming space between Florian Hecker, Rian Treanor and Cam Deas’ styles as his own playground, ’ProxyStates’ brilliantly swings between emulations of big-bang sonics in ‘Spill (False)’ thru to parrying electro-techno patterns in ‘Wreath Products (C#, D#)’, and more regular, sleekly rolled out techno pulses on ‘Wreath Products (D#, F#)’, with the strobing knots of ‘Wreath Products (F#, G#)’, and the absolute polychromatic chaos of ‘Compressions in a Chamber of Hard Light’ bound to shred you mind to ribbons in the best way.
“All of this is done with his usual fearless but mindful approach. His unique exercises with structure, time and sound create an ecstatic familiarity with the sounds while at the same time inducing a creeping physical alienation. In other words, some parts may be rhythmically infectious, others will give you no chance to immerse. The stimulation is astute and continuous, encouraging an out-of-this-world experience.
The main arc of “Proxy States” consists of a 16 against 17 poly-rhythmic synth line that through different intonations of the kick drum always transforms its syntax. This synth line always scales up 1 key, in the middle of the track, foreseeing the upcoming structure. While these tracks (3, 4, 5, 6: “Wreath Products”) follow an almost obsessive-compulsive order, the remaining tracks seem to blow up the structure entirely like the last scenes of the 1970 Michelangelo Antonioni’s film “Zabriskie Point”, creating an event inside the event.
“Proxy States” was impossible to press on vinyl but the fast, sharp and wild grooves of Jung An Tagen’s new album are incredibly synched with the concept of an ever accelerating future.”
Paul Woodford’s Special Request diversifies his bonds into moody IDM/electronica after spending his rave energies on the ‘Vortex’ album
The ‘Bedroom Tapes’ is the sound of Yorkshireman blues; the type of ‘tronica they reach for when there’s no tea bags left and shop is too far uphill, or when chippy’s ran out of scraps. In eight parts he speak to the sundays after, the tuesday mornings when grey matter seeps out of lug’oles onto yer desk as you kling to a kernel of residual happiness from the weekend.
Between the spooling electro bleeps and satin pads of ‘Panaflex Sunrise’, his floating electro scapes in ‘Pineal Gland’, and the muddled harmonic reverie of ‘Entropy’ on the first disc, and thru the sidelong keen of ‘Xenopsin’ to the frazzled, Actress-esque tic of ‘Double Rainbow’ and the shine-eyed twinkle of ‘Phosphorescence’ on the 2nd plate, the ‘Bedroom Tapes’ crucially acknowledge a tender flipside to SR’s usual exuberance.
‘Pyrrhic’ is the first ambient album by BNJMN following his string of rhythm-driven techno albums and 12”s over the past decade
Issued on his Tiercel label, ‘Pyrrhic’ sees BNJMN accentuate a side of his music that’s looping been there, in-the-mix, but usually sidelined in favour of dancefloor needs. Across 8 tracks created during the years 2016-2019 in Friedrichsfelde, Berlin, he expresses a mix of formative UK ambient/electronica influences mixed with a detectably Berlin-style melancholy and sexy gloom.
A Björk album is always a major event in the musical calendar, particularly for any followers of experimental music - no other artist can be credited with introducing such an array of avant-garde elements and production techniques so directly into the mainstream.
The same goes for personnel: in hand-picking collaborators from the underground's finest talents Björk has been responsible for drawing the pop chart-following public's attention to the work of Matmos, Zeena Parkins, LFO's Mark Bell and Opiate's Thomas Knak. That's quite some achievement in itself. Only last week she went and put free drumming icon Chris Corsano on Saturday Night Live. I mean, that's just crazy. Also assisting with Volta's percussive backbone are Lightning Bolt's Brian Chippendale and Konono No. 1 (surely Congo's answer to scrap metal merchants Einsturzende Neubauten). What of the album though? Well, after Medùlla's uncompromising interrogation of the timbral identity of the human body, Björk has returned to the kind of outward-looking fieriness of Homogenic. That said, the rickety Afro-shuffle of single 'Earth Intruders' recalls the organic rhythms of 'Human Behaviour', only to segue into the similarly excellent 'Wanderlust' via an incredibly naturalistic, melodic manipulation of foghorn sounds from docking ships. It sounds amazing - like something you'd find on a Touch compilation, but here it is on a Top 40-bound release.
'Wanderlust' introduces one of the album's key elements, the pervasive use of brass, as best put to use on the heart-melting 'Pneumonia', which frames Björk's voice in the pitter-pat of rainfall recordings and a haunting, impeccably phrased horn arrangement. 'I See Who You Are' is almost as good, featuring Min Xiao-Fen's pipa (a Chinese stringed instrument) accompanied by a sequence of subtle electronic bass tones. Of course, Björk 's voice is the star here, and by the song's conclusion she's multitracked herself into quiet choral bliss. It's astonishingly beautiful. 'Innocence' is as playful as Björk's sounded for a while, its stop-start beat assisted by some circuit-frazzled synth work, and penultimate track 'Declare Independence' takes this idea even further, cranking the distortion to Alec Empire levels of Digital Hardcore punk electronics. The final track, 'My Juvenile' is graced with both Tounami Diabatè's virtuoso kora and Antony Hegarty's angelic vocal stylings (this is the second of two tracks to feature Antony) but as with the rest of Volta, this is all very much Björk's show, regardless of how impressive her list of collaborators may be.
Stunning, absolutely essential listening from a truly great artist of our time.
It's been three years since Bjork's last album landed on this planet but it seems just like yesterday. Such was and is the power of that album to remain in your subconscious, days, months, years after you first heard it.
Going through another baffling pre-recording arrangement of ideas Bjork finally hit upon making 'Medúlla' (translated as marrow in latin) an album mostly stripped bare of acoustic and electronic instrumentation. Instead all the music had to come from the human voice (but not in a Bobby McFerrin way :), with this in mind she hooked up with Mike Patton, Rahzel, Robert Wyatt, Kelis, plus other lesser known artists and choirs from the UK and Iceland.
Where music does creep in it's handled by Olivier Alary from Ensemble, Mark Bell, Matmos, Mark 'Spike' Stent (basically Bjork's backroom boys). Track highlights include the glacially electronic shimmer of 'Where Is The Line', 'Triumph Of A Heart' goes back to the 'Big Time Sensuality' vibe connected with 'Debut', with a dope human trombone accompaniment and dual beatbox attack. 'Mouth's Cradle' is about the wonder of breast feeding, an amazing cross pollination of choral voices, rapid tone chord changes and Bjork's voice driven by a kaos pad while a low riding human beatbox from Rahzel bumps this track along. 'Who Is It' is the poppiest track on this album and an absolute blast with Rahzel on amazing multi layered single take beatboxing form. 'Piano II' ventures into what Bjork calls emotional throat singing, wild sounds emit from the mysterious artist Tagaq who features on other tracks in a less confrontational manner - wild. My personal favourite is 'Submarine', a divine collaboration with the godlike Robert Wyatt, beautiful and beyond compare - mysterious and haunting, a musical equivalent of a foggy night by the docks watching the ships slowing swaying side to side. Bjork imparted to the Mixing It crew that this album was in part inspired by 911 and the experience of the birth of her second child Isadora. Maybe 'Medúlla' is not as instantly mind blowing as 'Vespertine' but with a few plays it'll lodge itself in your soul for months to come.
Ooooosh! Pirate radio recordings made in Bristol between the late ‘80s to early ‘00s - the latest tape from Death Is Not The End, issued as part of the cherry-picked Blowing Up The Workshop series. It's a fucking goodun..
Celebrated for their archival dives into historic musical blindspots of the past 100 years, Death Is Not The End this time focus closer to home (and within our lifetimes) with what they describe as "A trip across the frequencies of Bristol's pirate radio stations via cut-ups of broadcasts, taken from the late 1980s to the early 2000s ~ also a love-letter to my childhood, an audio document of the years I spent growing up in the city.”
Traversing the dial from raucous soundclash recordings to Blues Dance soul, and taking in mighty blasts of jungle, wafts of warbling Indian music, and, of course, a f*ckload of dub and dancehall, its all spliced with a mix of heartrendingly sweet and hilarious radio phone ins and jingles = supremely heavy vibes.
Known for his releases on Sucata Tapes, Paralaxe Editions and Where To Now?, Portuguese “sound activist” Bruno Silva aka Ondness embraces ideas of chance, chaos and ambiguity in a spannered, enigmatic album for Holuzam, the weird, second cousin to the mighty Príncipe label.
Through his minimalist percussive formation, Ondness reminds us of the swung attack and squashed funk of Anthony “Shake” Shakir as channelled through the prism of Raster Noton’s Rn-Rhythm-Variations series; in other words - sharp but loose-limbed for the floor. Or as the label explain so well “ ...pop-up music, constantly moving and fading away, reappearing with a new idea and then leaving it out in the open”
We get going on the fractured midnight keys and drums of “Torre”, before fully getting into gear on "Sem Gente” with its jazz/bassdrum malfunctions reminding us of Atom Heart’s magnificent, bizarrely overlooked Brown album from ’96. 'Mau Vibe’ splinters a tribalist session into oblivion, while 'Casa Fora Fallout' conjurs the spirit of Madteo at his most thrillingly unhinged.
In short; a peculiar, oddly compelling 40 minute session from the wonderful, extended Príncipe family.
‘Live at the Jazz Cafe’ renders a 1 hour long recording of Fennesz performing live at the eponymous venue in Camden, London, on 12th March 2019
The release *almost* shares a cover and material with Fennesz’s most recent album, ‘Agora’, and sees the Viennese shoegazer and celebrated experimental guitarist riffing on elements from that album, effectively rendering its looser, “live” counterpart.
‘Science <> Religion’ is a glorious new example of the slow burning drone ecstasies explored by Téléplasmiste, an inquisitive collaboration between Michael J York (Coil, Cyclobe, Shirley Collins) and experimental UK stalwart Mark Pilkington (Strange Attractor Press)
Invoking references to seminal works by composers including (and not limited to) Robert Ashley, Steve Reich, and Alvin Lucier, the tape operates with a compellingly traction in two 20 min+ parts primed to recalibrate your chakras.
In the first, ‘Science’ they entwine gently keening microtonal sine waves with floating organs and mantric tape loops intoning “love is the law” over primally persistent percussion with a richly meditative effect that draws the ecstatic moment out to near infinity (or 24 minutes), before the 2nd part descends on a more astral sound full of spuming synths, bittersweet bagpipe tones and lonely accordion with a more wide-eyed and spaciously suggestive appeal that glacial transitions and resolves in pastoral, earthly realms and impishly intoxicated synth pulses.
This triple tape box set collects two albums of new, original RSE recordings alongside Low Jack’s 45 minute continuous mix of vintage RSE scenes...
On ‘Panama Canal Left-Hand Path’ Dominick Fernow’s Rainforest Spiritual Enslavement locks its attention to “the bloodshed and blind economics of the (panama) canal and its consequences and absurdity, then and now” in one of the project’s finest dispatches since its early days, With uncanny effect the music evokes its subject with soberly transfixing sound design, explicitly taking cues from Basic Channel’s hypnotic bass undulations to highlight and power a series of rotting electro-acoustic soundspheres, never quite fully letting on, but bringing the sense of trudging linearity and humid menace thru suggestive inference.
In ‘Hunting Down Individual Mosquitoes’ he evokes the feeling of dread with tense, lurking pads offset by natural bird calls - half sleepy, half acutely focussed - before ‘Isthmus Dark Arts (Electricity Arcs Through Rain)’ brings nightfall with screeching parakeets and a booming heartbeat. ‘Demons Tour The Canal’ then finds the perfect tension between blissed synths and distant, warning rhythms, priming for the extended isolation of ‘The Mountain Didn’t Want’ in two parts.
The additional ‘Simulated Thunderstorm’ is Phillipe Hallais’ (Low Jack) seamless 45 minute mix of Rainforest Spiritual Enslavement recordings (same programme plays both sides), originally realised as part of Hospital Productions’ CDMX earthquake benefit. Following his role in the heavyweight ‘Venus Flytrap Exotica’ 7” and the ‘Red Ants genesis’ LP, Hallais proves the logical pick to mix RSE’s febrile vibes, slowly sequencing and layering 45 minutes of material from the project’s earliest to most recent releases.
Wilted Woman and Nick Klein yield their live set recording from Café Kotti in X-Berg, late 2018
The results initially resemble a dialogue between a fog horn and dying car alarm, but progressively become smeared into gunky electronic textures and squabbly rhythm, and are prone to slip down mucky chutes of drone into ambience, huffing up dissonant, mind-bending gasses and and spiralling out into grappling rhythms.
Wilted Woman has previously released a 12” of industrial trax on Alien Jams, and the ‘Fluid’ tape for Primitive Languages, the cult label run by her collaborator Nick Klein, here leading on from his releases for Luke Younger’s Alter and BANK Records NYC.
A strong look for fans of harsh, bombed-out electronics, Ukraine’s SD debuts on iDEAL with a sound primed to be deployed in the scuzziest warehouses and abandoned factories.
As debuts go, ‘Luxury Death’ is a powerfully definitive statement of intent, driving a stake in the ground somewhere between the contemporary skools of JK Flesh, Prurient and Puce Mary, and the grizzled old battalions of Broken Flag and the ‘80s Italian industrial hordes. In that tradition, it’s built to be played LOUD, possessing the sort of biting-point amplitude control and a gauntleted grasp of barbed sonics that will make your speakers tremble with fear.
Raising the tension with sci-fi cinematic strings and drop forge noise blasts in the first, the session sustains a stare down intensity until the end, holding listeners under waves of rhythmic noise with a water-boarding brutality, then leaving us to freeze in muddy trenches, surrounded by shellfire, before ultimately burying the senses with smeared drones.
‘bblisss’ comp contributor Ulla Straus diffuses herself into the sublime, gauzy ambience of ‘Big Room’ for Quiet Time Tapes
Arriving in the glistening wake of instalments by Kareem Lotfy, Debit, and peer Huerco S, ‘Big Room’ is Ulla’s definitive statement to date, convicting a sublime soul through 8 gaseous, harmonised dimensions with sweet highlights in the milky flow of ‘Sister’, and the vertiginous scale of ‘Net’.
The first release on Chained Library, an icily minimal and pointed suite of industrial ambient electronics recalling the styles of Werkbund, Litüüs, The Radiophonic Workshop
Recorded 2012-2013 and first issued on tape in 2014, [..(].’s ‘Unnamed’ session feels only half-human in the best way, as simple gestures appear to become automated and spiral out into slinky permutations of their minimalist parameters, with only the slightest nudges giving variation to their hypnotic shapes. That applies to much of the tape, form the singed gauze of ‘A1’ thru the pulsing arps of ‘A2’ and the criss-crossing liens of ‘A5’, thru the Delia Derbyshire-like tones of ‘B1’, but if you’re still paying attention tot he end you’ll be rewarded with the fuller phrasing of ‘B5’. Enigmatic is the word.
Co-habitant treads on most sensitive melodic nerves in their exquisite debut and sole release for Chained Library
The eponymous Co-habitant release trades in a distinct style of filigree, pealing, high-register electronic minimalism that uses sparse ingredients to absorbingly meditative effect.
The A-side’s swaying figure in ‘a.003’ is a particular highlight that we could easily listen to on loop for hours, while the B-side has us utterly rapt with the transition from mechanical rhythmelody and fascinating reverberant overtones in ‘b.002’ thru the isolationist SAW II tingles of ‘b.003’ and the sallow ripples of ‘b.004’.
A real gem, this one. Don’t sleep!
Hypnagogic raga drone electronics and mutating, distorted rhythms from L.A.-based experimental musician Byron Westbrook, yielding two compatible improvisations that have stood the test of time in his archive. RIYL David Behrman, M Geddes Gengras, Matt Carlson
“Nearly all of my recorded music is pieced together from organized edits of various improvisations of some sort, via a composition process that generally involves cut/paste and superimposing those to a point of precision. Over time I’ve been curious about what gets lost in that process, in terms of representing how things develop over time and spontaneity. In 2016, I found myself with a 20-minute improvisation that felt distinguished in it's raw form, mistakes and all. It felt like a more guttural, gritty approach that represents how I actually “play” as an instrumentalist, which is something I’ve consciously downplayed in previous work out of preference for spatial and environmental elements. I sat on the piece for a while, then a year and a half later, when a second improvisation materialized that felt familial to the first, it seemed that a work had completed itself. Voice Damage is a bit of an exposure of the exploratory aspects of my process, where I’m not really thinking in terms of music composition or preconception, just playing in the moment as an instrumentalist.”
A restless Slip deliver their fourth release of 2019 with Brad Henkel & Yoshiko Klein’s mercurial debut, tracing etheric lines from scrabbly haptic noise to wistful ambient via 4th world peals and midnight jazz vibes.
Unfolding in two durational halves, ‘Merry Peers’ appears to be an ironic moniker for the duo’s modest, coy and quiet style of composition. Using Henkel’s trumpet, plus synth, daubs of voice, and carefully applied FX, they form a microcosm unto themselves, one that takes in three minutes of visceral extended technique and piercing high register tones, before fading into the thing proper - a sublime arc of ambient synth pads infiltrated by blithe self-help slogans, and leading down the garden path to phosphorescing blooms of dubwise, 4th world jazz, Vangelis-like synth brass flares, and dilapidated ambient-pop song.
The effect is richly dreamlike comfortingly lonely, and smudged in all the right places for a perfectly elusive grip on the duo’s waking reality, stemming for the immersion in Berlin’s fecund underground. There’s no real big statement or difficult concept behind ‘Merry Peers’, just a wry expression of the strangeness and melancholy of the human condition that will surely resonate with daydreamers and lovers of anything from Felicia Atkinson or Teresa Winter.
Collapsing Market poetically chart speculative zones between myth, science and the imagination with the first release on The Benchmark Files, a new series highlighting the work of local french underground artists. From found sounds to ambient zones, junglist edits to distilled vocal narration reminiscent of Anne-James Chaton, the whole thing has a dystopian mixtape vibe that's both evocative and unsettling.
Metta Sound Peace is the sound project helmed by Pierre Edouard Dumora, whose AV work has previously been shown at the Centre Pompidou and Yale Art Gallery. On ‘Zanclean’ he takes inspiration from the eponymous catastrophe event some 6 million years ago, when the Mediterranean basin was refilled by the Atlantic after 600,000 years as a salty stretch that allowed large mammals including primates to cross from North Africa into Europe. Dumora however sets this event in the future (a not so distant one, geologically-speaking), using a mixture of electronics, field recordings and voices - ranging from ASMR-like whispers and mouth sounds to scrambled text-to-speech and synthetic syrens - to limn this uncanny valley on the horizon.
Like a messenger dialled back in time to the age of extinction rebellion with a cryptic tale to tell, ‘Zanclean’ speaks of a world populated with myths and non-human entities, where furtive, hacked-up voices inhabit shadowy ambient space, machine-like voices converse in scrambled code and crystalline arps, and lush jungle fantazias appear like Ballardian mirages, where his careful use of textures and editing conjures the feeling of a world in flux between states from extreme dryess to puckered, bittersweet and salty, and all with a fine grasp of the new, new age consciousness.
Joachim Nordwall and sound artist Henrik Rylander’s drone duo give it a thousand mile glare on a killer album of works for feedback and analogue synths.
Coughed up on Industrial Coast, an ace tape label from N.E. England, ‘Your Skulls Are To Us What The Sun Is To You’ is an absolute pleasure for the prickly isolationists out there. In four tracts the Swedish pair coax out gloomy masses of greyscale drone from hardware, traversing from beating low end frequencies and static swells in the first, then wade thru viscous waves of analog sludge in the 2nd, surrounded by a rusty meridian glow of industrial clangour.
In the 3rd section, plunging oscillators conjure a wickedly pensive sci-fi atmosphere befitting of a scene from Bladerunner or Alien (Ridley Scott went to art college on an industrial coast, dontyaknow?!) but where everything is slowed 500% and achingly pregnant with terror for the duration, before the dense, reverberating industrial drone of the final tract nails the gare stare (north or south) with proper, end-of-the-earth intensity that draws us ever more unsociably into its blackened churn.
Joachim Nordwall aka The iDEALIST gets right inside the echoplex in ‘Early Tactical Experiments’ for the Industrial Coast label.
In line with Nordwall's recent run of dubwize material, including a killer 7” and the charred dub pressure underlining the Joachim Nordwall album of collaborations ‘Communication Is The Key’, his ‘Early Tactical Experiments’ are still rudely stripped down and brutish, but also now more technoid and lithe.
Whether placing listeners in a ricocheting matrix of splayed drums and bass (‘A Hopeful Dub’), testing out longer-form dub-techno structures (‘The Lowest Form of Your Mind’ + ‘Fire In The Mind’), getting gunky and loose (‘Dub On Arrival’), or pushing dub to its logical limits (‘Zoned Out Deep Zone Son’), he just can't help but apply his taste for extreme, disruptive, or hallucinogenic sounds and forms throughout the album, and that’s one of the big things we love most about his music.
Carla Dal Forno yields her self-released cover versions tape, ‘Top Of The Pops’, which was previously only available on her 2018 US tour
Recorded on the cusp of winter/spring, it features Dal Forno placing a gently haunted spin on personal pop & wave favourites by The B-52’s, Rénee, The Kiwi Animal, Liliput, Lana Del Rey, and The Fates.
Stripped down to their essence, the songs provide a fine showcase for Carla’s strong yet plaintive vocals and skill in painting and framing her subtle instrumental backdrops. The results are most alluring in her skeletal reduction of the B-52’s ‘Give Me Back My Man’, with its seaside town-in-winter ambience, and in the dark blue stripe of her take on Lana Del Rey’s ’Summertime Sadness’, but we’re sure you’ll all have your own favourites.
Sold out at source. Think quick if you’d like one.
South London grime/drill producer Nammy Wams kicks off Grime Tapes, a physical wing of Slackk’s seminal pirate radio archive, Grimetapes.com, with ‘Yellow Secret Technology’ - a killer 20 track retrospective pulling from Nammy’s archive of hyper-colourful and kinetic productions circa 2013 to 2018
Compiled and sequenced by wise wan, Slackk, ‘Yellow Secret Technology’ is the 1st in a series of releases promised on Grime Tapes, the label, which is founded just over 10 years since the demise of Slackk’s Grimetapes.com. During grime’s golden era in the mid ’00s it was one of very few sites online to share pirate radio recordings beyond their original broadcast range, providing an invaluable service to many appreciative ears and early grime fiends in the UK and abroad.
As host of his own weekly Croydon FM show and producer for Marcus Nasty’s Rinse FM slot, Nammy Wams brings that London grime radio connection full circle in ’Yellow Secret Technology’. Under a title that nods to his Vietnamese heritage and A Guy Called Gerald’s classic jungle LP, Nammy’s trax clash the dynamics of early jungle with the Far Eastern-facing melodies of early Jammer, Slew Dem or Hyperdub, plus the weirdo, mutant freakishness of the Boxed lot, whom Nammy has been affiliated with since their inception, and where he started to feed demos to Slackk.
Without exception, all 20 tracks of ‘Yellow Secret Technology’ are bangers in their own right, each riddled with nagging hooks and burning emotions, but it’s Slackk’s sequencing that makes the collection such an enjoyable album. Selected from an abundance of material, the final cut expertly highlights myriad shades to Nammy’s style, from the star-eyed pads and wavey flow of ‘Rocks’ at the front to the giddy rude fanfare of ‘Less’ at the back, taking in crushing grime/drill fusions such as ‘Tempest’ and the darkside pressure of ‘Wapper’ alongside ecstatic dancefloor sidewinders in ‘Miharu’ and spine-tracing sweetboy grime of ‘Prayer’.
Like we say, there’s a f*ck-tonne of material here - and not a dud among them, effectively serving the fullest testament to Nammy’s faithfully rugged, rude and playful style that any grime fiend could hope for. Moreover, ‘Yellow Secret Technology’ highlights a modest but gifted artist in an appropriate manner, providing physical space and time on the tape to really immerse in Nammy’s sound, and in a way that’s often negated by everything-at-once streaming/scrolling/skipping. It’s a properly ideal listen for late evening headphone commutes, and a neatly nostalgic yet forward survey of where grime has come and gone since the golden days of the Grimetapes era.
Australian selector Lauren Hansom wafts a slow soul and funk mixtape from the tropical lagoons of Amsterdam for Berlin’s Altered Soul Experiment
Richly playing into an idea of the ‘Dam as a tropical archipelago hosting myriad, worldly voices both organic, classic, and synthetic, modern, Lauren’s mix comes on in warm waves of skronky, downtempo soul-jazz, dubbed-out hustle, Japanese synth-pop and balmy Afro-Caribbean seduction, just the sort of gear you’d expect to hear on her Red Light Radio shows.
“Flowing through the multiple aesthetic veins she keeps delving in with equal poise and panache, life itself speaks out - and the many changes that accompanied her change of landscape, from Sydney to Amsterdam - "moving home, people leaving, new people, adventures, uncertainty, surprise", et al. Imagine staring at the slo-scudding clouds and the abstract drawings of long-haul planes' vapour trails listening to this, trying to map the distance that cuts trajectories apart and joins seemingly splitting lanes together again. "It is the journey of life and my life as it seems; it is through music and through this tape that I can share with you some of those moments that have gone by. I hope with this, you can step into my mind, my world and take the journey with me."
The latest in a series of remastered archive releases on Fonolith from Neil Scrivin (aka Phono Ghosts and Meatbingo).
"Recorded during the winter nights of late 2004, ‘Stars and Rumours of Stars’ explores the duality of inner and outer space by way of digital soundscapes, reverb-heavy textures and crunchy percussive elements. From the chilly, wind-swept ambience of ‘Skywatch’ to the interstellar rush of ‘Omni Voyager’ and cyclical hypnotic groove of ‘The Power of the Spiral’, SAROS illustrates a moonlit meandering into darkened woods for encounters at the interstices between worlds."
Two of the great unsung protagonists binding Manchester’s DIY scene unite for this limited edition release taking in some of the many multidisciplinary interests the pair have been involved with as sound and visual artists.
John Powell-Jones is perhaps best known for his work in the creative arts and as a visual designer and printer for projects as diverse as Mogwai, Jamal Moss, Delroy Edwards, Raime, Moon Duo and Demdike Stare, as well as a technical demonstrator in printmaking and Risograph techniques at the University of Salford. Alongside his most recent work in sculpture, Powell-Jones has also had a number of music releases for the Sacred Tapes label since 2014.
Craig Tattersall needs little introduction round these parts, having been involved in numerous projects close to our orbit since the late 90’s as part of Hood, The Remote Viewer and The Boats, as well as running the much loved (and missed) Cotton Goods label.
This release emerged as the result of a sound art and print workshop the duo ran together at the University of Salford, based on a premise of capturing sounds during the process of printing. The resulting prints would act as both 'sketches' of the workshop, but also as gestural marks that would replicate those sounds, like a visual score.
Making use of contact mics, tape loops, manipulated radios/cassettes and an altered turntable to make the sound, the pair then used different mono printing and dry point etching techniques, as well as an old typewriter to make the images.
The A-side starts off baring the hallmarks of classic location recording; all clicks and whirrs, it slowly develops into a mesmerising, whirling drone piece. But it’s the b-side that envelopes in warmth, a sublime study in stillness and beauty that’s quite the contrast to the rattling, microscopic chaos of that opener. Over the space of almost 20 minutes, Tattersall and Powell-Jones bridge between celestial and personal dimensions with ease, creating a kind of barely-there rendering of the sublime that recalls everything from William Basinski to the quiet music of Jürg Frey, an effect heightened by the ferric quality of the recording...
Andy Votel and Sean Canty of Demdike Stare reunite for one of their occasional mixtape specials, a proper pearl riddled with unidentifiable shots of avant-garde, jazz, mechanical music and dream sequence sonics, recorded at exhibitions of Votel's' “fake lore” paintings/collages in Leeds and Gothenburg.
The latest in a long and highly collectable line of collaborations released sporadically over the last decade, alongside their work together as NeoTantrik and Slant Azymuth, these two solo mixes, while recorded 1000 miles apart, share a mutually restless spirit and are both riddled with a whole world of cut-up fragments of unknown provenance.
Canty’s side was captured in Leeds, 1/2/2019 and is the more oblique, full of insectoid percussions and off key discord, while Votel’s was recorded at Folkteatern, Gothenburg, and invokes a more highly cinematic, worldly feel that most acutely evokes his “fake lore” aesthetic, reducing influences of European science-fiction art, scholastic illustration, post-pop-art, Plakatstil and mid-century graphic design - the same influences that can be seen through his visual work.
If you’ve ever picked up any of the mixtapes these two have been involved with over the years, or indeed if you’re a Finders Keepers/Demdike head - you’ll know that this stuff is gold. Don’t miss!
Asher Levitas sequences unreleased and unheard material from the excellent Paper Dollhouse into a 30 minute mix.
Drifting between electronics and spectral vocals, descending into noise but kept from the brink with sublime turns of phrase, the mix also incorporates field recordings made in-between the group’s North London and Suffolk studios to lend a displaced sense of psychogeography. B-side plays it all backwards...!
Through her latest, ‘Titanic Rising’, Weyes Blood, aka Natalie Mering, has designed her own universe to soulfully navigate life’s mysteries. Manoeuvring through a space time continuum, she plays the role of melodic, sometimes melancholic, anthropologist.
"Tellingly, Mering classifies ‘Titanic Rising’ - written and recorded during the first half of 2018, after three albums and years of touring - as The Kinks meeting WWII or Bob Seger meets Enya. The latter captures the album’s wilful expansiveness (“You can tell there’s not a guy pulling the strings in Enya’s studio,” she notes, admiringly). The former relays her imperative to connect with listeners. “The clarity of Bob Seger is unmistakable. I’m a big fan of conversational songwriting,” she adds. “I just try to do that in a way that uses abstract imagery as well.” The Weyes Blood frontwoman grew up singing in gospel and madrigal choirs. (Listen closely to ‘Titanic Rising’ and you’ll also hear the jazz of Hoagy Carmichael mingle with the artful mysticism of Alejandro Jodorowsky and the monomyth of scholar Joseph Campbell.) ‘Something To Believe’, a confessional that makes judicious use of the slide guitar, touches on that cosmological upbringing. “Belief is something all humans need. Shared myths are part of our psychology and survival,” she says. “Now we have a weird mishmash of capitalism and movies and science.
There have been moments where I felt very existential and lost.” As a kid, she filled that void with ‘Titanic’. (Yes, the movie.) “It was engineered for little girls and had its own mythology,” she explains. Mering also noticed that the blockbuster romance actually offered a story about loss born of man’s hubris. “It’s so symbolic that The Titanic would crash into an iceberg, and now that iceberg is melting, sinking civilization.” Today, this hubris also extends to the relentless adoption of technology, at the expense of both happiness and attention spans. But Weyes Blood isn’t one to stew. Her observations play out in an ethereal saunter: far more meditative than cynical. To Mering, listening and thinking are concurrent experiences. “There are complicated influences mixed in with more relatable nostalgic melodies,” she says. “In my mind my music feels so big, a true production. I’m not a huge, popular artist, but I feel like one when I’m in the studio. But it’s never taking away from the music. I’m just making a bigger nspace for myself.”
Craig Tattersall unspools a gorgeous new tape of disintegrated piano meditations and dusty lower case ephemera for Belgium’s Dauw label. It’s been over 4 years since we last heard from him and over 20 since we were first introduced to Tattersall’s uniquely brittle productions, first as part of Hood and The Remote Viewer, and subsequently as one half of The Boats and at the helm of the hugely loved Cotton Goods series. Despite being a constant presence around us throughout these last two decades, this just might be the most delicate, beautiful music we’ve heard from Tattersall to date.
‘things are sweeter when they’re lost’ is a fittingly melancholy notion for the music inside. On the A-side it’s a dreamily searching, silty flux of piano notes peeling in slow motion. Strings drift over, connoting cold breezes and infrasonic, spectral presences, but the effect is far from menacing, it’s more a tranquil shade of sublime, like those hours after midnight when the meridian sounds of road traffic and human life have ebbed off into the distance and you’re left with the sighing creaks of a room.
The sound is remarkably different on the B-side. Here the air gradually thickens with murkier sub-harmonic distortion, bordering on a seething sense of aggression relative to most of Tattersall’s other output, pushing the grim murk to a logical entropy that precipitates elegiac pauses for reflection and warbling closure.
There are so, so many operators out there who’ve clearly tried to divine the same atmosphere and mindset, but Tattersall has somehow always struck a different, more authentic note for us. He evokes the memory of some distant, formative music suspended in time and outlined in vague, half-remembered shapes, filled with love.
Endearingly wistful, psychedelic ambient-pop from Zero Years Kid, an Irish-Belgian duo, for Lakker’s Eotrax label. If Morgan Buckley, OD and the weirdos in Rathmines made music with Jameszoo, it might well sound like this freaky batch…
““I wish I was two dogs, then I could play together”
Zero Years Kid is a brand new Belgian / Irish pop music duo featuring Flemish vocals in a unique meeting of experimental music and R&B.
Their debut album Ongerijmde Rijmen features 16 songs that portray in various ways the Dutch word 'miltzucht' – an elusive feeling of discomfort, dissatisfaction with the world. Lyrically and formally inspired by Dutch writers Godfried Bomans and Michel van der Plas, ZYK follows in the lineage of overcoming their confusion with the world with humor, the self effacing, and the unintelligible. Whether humbly ('Verloren in de taal', 'Kleine handjes') or through feigned confidence ('Vloeiend en precies uitdrukken', 'De laatste loodjes'), this new project wants to find hope when faced with confusion.
Although more frequently known for their works with European improvisors Han Bennink, John Butcher and Henri Texier, with this new album ZYK (Joachim Badenhorst/Sean Carpio) want to lose themselves in the translation of language, mixed genres and technologies; to present an album of songs that profess to an instinctual and playful reading of the world; to tie a rope to a vision.
"Een touw aan een visioen knopen””
Rabit’s overproof, killer mixtape tribute to DJ Screw; Houston’s late, great pioneer of chopped and screwed hip hop. It comes as a prelude to Rabit's incredible new album 'Life After Death' which is coming this October.
Eric C. Burton a.k.a. Rabit also hails from Houston and has long named Screw’s radical style of slowed down and Codeine-infused rap and pop edits as a major influence on his own productions. ‘Cry Alone Die Alone’ was first issued online on 27th June - the famous date of a none-more-classic Screwed Up Click recording - and finds Rabit pulling back for a tarry hour of slurred rap and shoegazing electronic haze in keeping with the spirit of Chopped & Screwed. By the time RiRi crops up on side 2, it’s quite obvious this one is unmissable.
The heaviest mixtape you’ll hear in 2018.
A cult star of the UK underground, Yeah You’s Elvin Brandhi strikes solo in stunning fashion with ’Shelf Life’ for C.A.N.V.A.S., hot on the heels of their wide-scoped ‘Cipher’ compilation.
Perhaps best known for her improvised rap/noise project Yeah You alongside her dad, Gwilly Edmondes, the artist known as Elvin Brandhi is a vital creative force to be reckoned with on ‘Shelf Life’, hacking and splicing frazzled electronics and her own voice into utterly singular, mutant designs that could hardly have come from anyone else.
There’s so much going on that we’re kinda lost for words and left reeling from it all. But if we allow our ears to defocus a little, structures begin to emerge from the chaos, kinda like a T-1000 flailing in molten meckle. Variously, we hear a wild flux of crushed flashcore rhythms a la Croww woven with free-metered vocals and Wanda Group-like gunk in ‘Empty Weeping’, while ‘REAP SOLACE’ recalls an Arca or Lotic piece twysted inside-out, gut spilling, before ‘I SAID IF’ runs roughshod with DJ Scud-style Yardcore and Merzbow-esque shards of electronic noise. And just as you think you’ve got a grip, ‘IMBRED WAILE-OCDC’ invest it all, setting blown-out percussion in acres of negative space with discombobulated pop vocals and blasts of dissonance, then ’Skype Warp’ closes the account cannily close to Klein with a burning but elusive, avant sense of soul.
Jaws will drop at the feet of this one. Highly recommended!
New from Sucata Tapes (Discrepant), comes a mini album by Gonçalo F Cardoso's most experimental and retro avant-garde moniker, Papillon.
"After an LP back in 2013 (S/T) and a 2-part tape (Aqueducts) for Dinzu Artefacts in 2016, the Henri Charrière inspired alter ego hasn't been the most prolific of late. He now returns with 7 mini-vignettes full of mood swings, silly 'ambiances' and made up stories to make you dream and wonder (why?). Featuring contributions from Mike Cooper (Guitar) and Yannick Dauby (Field Recs and Modulators).
This mini-album will be the precursor to Papillon's swan song aka final album (Le Banco) to be released on main label Discrepant early 2020. For now recline on your burnt up sofa chair and enter the schizophrenic trip wonderland of Papillon's Cercueill Flottant.
Artwork by the ever talented Evan Crankshaw."