Tech house dreamer Leif treads lightly in melodic, airy ambient house zones on a return to Nic Tasker’s family of labels with his 5th studio album
A core part of the personnel behind fluff-fest Freerotation and longtime committed to the sweeter edges of minimal/tech-house and electronica, Leif’s has seen trends come a go but has admirably stuck to his guns, now resulting in a dreamily etheric echo of the club rendered in gently windswept rhythms and autumnal choral drift for dancefloor downtimes.
‘9 Airs’ by name and nature, the set takes shape as a sequence of soft focus harmonic plucks and LARPing forest spirit atmospheres for those missing their annual dose of drugs and dance music in a stately home, offering something like a night-by-the-campfire’s worth of lowkey, gently blissed works that make a virtue of quiet, lower case musical grammar and sees his sound more porous to worldly influences, with canny, syncopated, Shackleton-esque rhythms in ‘Low D’, and clear traces of Four Tet-on-a-valdo in ‘Seven Hour Flight T Nowhere’, while the beat-less likes of ‘Emotional Risk Assessment’ point to pastoral influence from Cluster & Eno, and ‘Wake Up Now’ feels like a stray rustle of solo piano that leaked from The Remote Viewer’s studio.
View more
Tech house dreamer Leif treads lightly in melodic, airy ambient house zones on a return to Nic Tasker’s family of labels with his 5th studio album
A core part of the personnel behind fluff-fest Freerotation and longtime committed to the sweeter edges of minimal/tech-house and electronica, Leif’s has seen trends come a go but has admirably stuck to his guns, now resulting in a dreamily etheric echo of the club rendered in gently windswept rhythms and autumnal choral drift for dancefloor downtimes.
‘9 Airs’ by name and nature, the set takes shape as a sequence of soft focus harmonic plucks and LARPing forest spirit atmospheres for those missing their annual dose of drugs and dance music in a stately home, offering something like a night-by-the-campfire’s worth of lowkey, gently blissed works that make a virtue of quiet, lower case musical grammar and sees his sound more porous to worldly influences, with canny, syncopated, Shackleton-esque rhythms in ‘Low D’, and clear traces of Four Tet-on-a-valdo in ‘Seven Hour Flight T Nowhere’, while the beat-less likes of ‘Emotional Risk Assessment’ point to pastoral influence from Cluster & Eno, and ‘Wake Up Now’ feels like a stray rustle of solo piano that leaked from The Remote Viewer’s studio.
Tech house dreamer Leif treads lightly in melodic, airy ambient house zones on a return to Nic Tasker’s family of labels with his 5th studio album
A core part of the personnel behind fluff-fest Freerotation and longtime committed to the sweeter edges of minimal/tech-house and electronica, Leif’s has seen trends come a go but has admirably stuck to his guns, now resulting in a dreamily etheric echo of the club rendered in gently windswept rhythms and autumnal choral drift for dancefloor downtimes.
‘9 Airs’ by name and nature, the set takes shape as a sequence of soft focus harmonic plucks and LARPing forest spirit atmospheres for those missing their annual dose of drugs and dance music in a stately home, offering something like a night-by-the-campfire’s worth of lowkey, gently blissed works that make a virtue of quiet, lower case musical grammar and sees his sound more porous to worldly influences, with canny, syncopated, Shackleton-esque rhythms in ‘Low D’, and clear traces of Four Tet-on-a-valdo in ‘Seven Hour Flight T Nowhere’, while the beat-less likes of ‘Emotional Risk Assessment’ point to pastoral influence from Cluster & Eno, and ‘Wake Up Now’ feels like a stray rustle of solo piano that leaked from The Remote Viewer’s studio.
Tech house dreamer Leif treads lightly in melodic, airy ambient house zones on a return to Nic Tasker’s family of labels with his 5th studio album
A core part of the personnel behind fluff-fest Freerotation and longtime committed to the sweeter edges of minimal/tech-house and electronica, Leif’s has seen trends come a go but has admirably stuck to his guns, now resulting in a dreamily etheric echo of the club rendered in gently windswept rhythms and autumnal choral drift for dancefloor downtimes.
‘9 Airs’ by name and nature, the set takes shape as a sequence of soft focus harmonic plucks and LARPing forest spirit atmospheres for those missing their annual dose of drugs and dance music in a stately home, offering something like a night-by-the-campfire’s worth of lowkey, gently blissed works that make a virtue of quiet, lower case musical grammar and sees his sound more porous to worldly influences, with canny, syncopated, Shackleton-esque rhythms in ‘Low D’, and clear traces of Four Tet-on-a-valdo in ‘Seven Hour Flight T Nowhere’, while the beat-less likes of ‘Emotional Risk Assessment’ point to pastoral influence from Cluster & Eno, and ‘Wake Up Now’ feels like a stray rustle of solo piano that leaked from The Remote Viewer’s studio.
Out of Stock
Tech house dreamer Leif treads lightly in melodic, airy ambient house zones on a return to Nic Tasker’s family of labels with his 5th studio album
A core part of the personnel behind fluff-fest Freerotation and longtime committed to the sweeter edges of minimal/tech-house and electronica, Leif’s has seen trends come a go but has admirably stuck to his guns, now resulting in a dreamily etheric echo of the club rendered in gently windswept rhythms and autumnal choral drift for dancefloor downtimes.
‘9 Airs’ by name and nature, the set takes shape as a sequence of soft focus harmonic plucks and LARPing forest spirit atmospheres for those missing their annual dose of drugs and dance music in a stately home, offering something like a night-by-the-campfire’s worth of lowkey, gently blissed works that make a virtue of quiet, lower case musical grammar and sees his sound more porous to worldly influences, with canny, syncopated, Shackleton-esque rhythms in ‘Low D’, and clear traces of Four Tet-on-a-valdo in ‘Seven Hour Flight T Nowhere’, while the beat-less likes of ‘Emotional Risk Assessment’ point to pastoral influence from Cluster & Eno, and ‘Wake Up Now’ feels like a stray rustle of solo piano that leaked from The Remote Viewer’s studio.