Berlin-based Neapolitan vocalist and sound artist Sara Persico cracks words and raspy croaks into crystalline electro-acoustic beatscapes on her formidable debut. Essential listening if yr into anything from Shapednoise and Rashad Becker to Elvin Brandhi and Aïsha Devi.
The first sound we hear on "Boundary" is Persico clearing her throat. Reverberating into smoky, distorted electronics and wordless whispers, it establishes the record's sonic space immediately, assuring us that although she's a trained vocalist we're not to expect manicured prettiness or histrionic operatics. The Italian polymath is an unavoidable presence on Berlin's experimental fringe. Never bound to one particular style or another, she's a prolific collaborator who's worked with Caterina Barbieri, Elvin Brandhi, Ludwig Wandinger and others, and an adventurous DJ who's as motivated by bass-heavy fwd-thinking club mutations as she is DIY noise, modular experimentation or Medieval chamber music. On "Boundary" Persico attempts to reconcile at least a few of her interests, cutting into her acrobatic voice with serrated beats and gaseous airlock club stutters. Contorted screams and sensual coos are fractured and flustered into dystopian furnaces of withered percussion and charcoaled electronics that blaze into infernal digital noise.
The title track is a tightly engineered low-slung hip-hop crawl that sounds like Metro Boomin through a broken guitar amp. Persico meets her sculpted beats head-on, singing and rapping through alienated fx, letting her voice express punk delirium and heady poetic intrigue simultaneously. 'Exit' is more blurry, tiptoeing into psychedelia via dissonant electro-vocal soundscapes and tactile, mechanical scribbles that morph into dense walls of screaming, croaking, singing and powerful, bass-heavy drone. Her sound design skill bubbles to the surface completely on the metallic 'Under the Raw Light', that twists vocal squeaks and growls into pneumatic, overdriven clangs that sound like heavy machinery falling apart in a weightless off-world refinery. SOPHIE-like high intensity detritus forms an almost-rhythmic accompaniment, but it's Persico's vocals that make this one completely essential.
She's so confident in her voice that its normative beauty or identifiable technicality isn't even a consideration. Persico is prepared to use it as comfortably and creatively as she does any other tool in her belt, and plays with it like its modeling clay, fitting her distinct calls around textures and rhythms that shift with the wind. It's a stunning introduction to an artist we're expecting to hear a lot more from.
View more
Berlin-based Neapolitan vocalist and sound artist Sara Persico cracks words and raspy croaks into crystalline electro-acoustic beatscapes on her formidable debut. Essential listening if yr into anything from Shapednoise and Rashad Becker to Elvin Brandhi and Aïsha Devi.
The first sound we hear on "Boundary" is Persico clearing her throat. Reverberating into smoky, distorted electronics and wordless whispers, it establishes the record's sonic space immediately, assuring us that although she's a trained vocalist we're not to expect manicured prettiness or histrionic operatics. The Italian polymath is an unavoidable presence on Berlin's experimental fringe. Never bound to one particular style or another, she's a prolific collaborator who's worked with Caterina Barbieri, Elvin Brandhi, Ludwig Wandinger and others, and an adventurous DJ who's as motivated by bass-heavy fwd-thinking club mutations as she is DIY noise, modular experimentation or Medieval chamber music. On "Boundary" Persico attempts to reconcile at least a few of her interests, cutting into her acrobatic voice with serrated beats and gaseous airlock club stutters. Contorted screams and sensual coos are fractured and flustered into dystopian furnaces of withered percussion and charcoaled electronics that blaze into infernal digital noise.
The title track is a tightly engineered low-slung hip-hop crawl that sounds like Metro Boomin through a broken guitar amp. Persico meets her sculpted beats head-on, singing and rapping through alienated fx, letting her voice express punk delirium and heady poetic intrigue simultaneously. 'Exit' is more blurry, tiptoeing into psychedelia via dissonant electro-vocal soundscapes and tactile, mechanical scribbles that morph into dense walls of screaming, croaking, singing and powerful, bass-heavy drone. Her sound design skill bubbles to the surface completely on the metallic 'Under the Raw Light', that twists vocal squeaks and growls into pneumatic, overdriven clangs that sound like heavy machinery falling apart in a weightless off-world refinery. SOPHIE-like high intensity detritus forms an almost-rhythmic accompaniment, but it's Persico's vocals that make this one completely essential.
She's so confident in her voice that its normative beauty or identifiable technicality isn't even a consideration. Persico is prepared to use it as comfortably and creatively as she does any other tool in her belt, and plays with it like its modeling clay, fitting her distinct calls around textures and rhythms that shift with the wind. It's a stunning introduction to an artist we're expecting to hear a lot more from.
Berlin-based Neapolitan vocalist and sound artist Sara Persico cracks words and raspy croaks into crystalline electro-acoustic beatscapes on her formidable debut. Essential listening if yr into anything from Shapednoise and Rashad Becker to Elvin Brandhi and Aïsha Devi.
The first sound we hear on "Boundary" is Persico clearing her throat. Reverberating into smoky, distorted electronics and wordless whispers, it establishes the record's sonic space immediately, assuring us that although she's a trained vocalist we're not to expect manicured prettiness or histrionic operatics. The Italian polymath is an unavoidable presence on Berlin's experimental fringe. Never bound to one particular style or another, she's a prolific collaborator who's worked with Caterina Barbieri, Elvin Brandhi, Ludwig Wandinger and others, and an adventurous DJ who's as motivated by bass-heavy fwd-thinking club mutations as she is DIY noise, modular experimentation or Medieval chamber music. On "Boundary" Persico attempts to reconcile at least a few of her interests, cutting into her acrobatic voice with serrated beats and gaseous airlock club stutters. Contorted screams and sensual coos are fractured and flustered into dystopian furnaces of withered percussion and charcoaled electronics that blaze into infernal digital noise.
The title track is a tightly engineered low-slung hip-hop crawl that sounds like Metro Boomin through a broken guitar amp. Persico meets her sculpted beats head-on, singing and rapping through alienated fx, letting her voice express punk delirium and heady poetic intrigue simultaneously. 'Exit' is more blurry, tiptoeing into psychedelia via dissonant electro-vocal soundscapes and tactile, mechanical scribbles that morph into dense walls of screaming, croaking, singing and powerful, bass-heavy drone. Her sound design skill bubbles to the surface completely on the metallic 'Under the Raw Light', that twists vocal squeaks and growls into pneumatic, overdriven clangs that sound like heavy machinery falling apart in a weightless off-world refinery. SOPHIE-like high intensity detritus forms an almost-rhythmic accompaniment, but it's Persico's vocals that make this one completely essential.
She's so confident in her voice that its normative beauty or identifiable technicality isn't even a consideration. Persico is prepared to use it as comfortably and creatively as she does any other tool in her belt, and plays with it like its modeling clay, fitting her distinct calls around textures and rhythms that shift with the wind. It's a stunning introduction to an artist we're expecting to hear a lot more from.
Berlin-based Neapolitan vocalist and sound artist Sara Persico cracks words and raspy croaks into crystalline electro-acoustic beatscapes on her formidable debut. Essential listening if yr into anything from Shapednoise and Rashad Becker to Elvin Brandhi and Aïsha Devi.
The first sound we hear on "Boundary" is Persico clearing her throat. Reverberating into smoky, distorted electronics and wordless whispers, it establishes the record's sonic space immediately, assuring us that although she's a trained vocalist we're not to expect manicured prettiness or histrionic operatics. The Italian polymath is an unavoidable presence on Berlin's experimental fringe. Never bound to one particular style or another, she's a prolific collaborator who's worked with Caterina Barbieri, Elvin Brandhi, Ludwig Wandinger and others, and an adventurous DJ who's as motivated by bass-heavy fwd-thinking club mutations as she is DIY noise, modular experimentation or Medieval chamber music. On "Boundary" Persico attempts to reconcile at least a few of her interests, cutting into her acrobatic voice with serrated beats and gaseous airlock club stutters. Contorted screams and sensual coos are fractured and flustered into dystopian furnaces of withered percussion and charcoaled electronics that blaze into infernal digital noise.
The title track is a tightly engineered low-slung hip-hop crawl that sounds like Metro Boomin through a broken guitar amp. Persico meets her sculpted beats head-on, singing and rapping through alienated fx, letting her voice express punk delirium and heady poetic intrigue simultaneously. 'Exit' is more blurry, tiptoeing into psychedelia via dissonant electro-vocal soundscapes and tactile, mechanical scribbles that morph into dense walls of screaming, croaking, singing and powerful, bass-heavy drone. Her sound design skill bubbles to the surface completely on the metallic 'Under the Raw Light', that twists vocal squeaks and growls into pneumatic, overdriven clangs that sound like heavy machinery falling apart in a weightless off-world refinery. SOPHIE-like high intensity detritus forms an almost-rhythmic accompaniment, but it's Persico's vocals that make this one completely essential.
She's so confident in her voice that its normative beauty or identifiable technicality isn't even a consideration. Persico is prepared to use it as comfortably and creatively as she does any other tool in her belt, and plays with it like its modeling clay, fitting her distinct calls around textures and rhythms that shift with the wind. It's a stunning introduction to an artist we're expecting to hear a lot more from.