Solo Andata's Kane Ikin returns to the spotlight after a lengthy break, dematerializing on the Aussie Longform Editions label with an almost half-hour composition that combines meticulous mechanical rhythms with processed guitar and delicate piano echoes. RIYL Oren Ambarchi, Taylor Deupree.
Ikin uses the duration well, building his composition slowly from rattling pots 'n pans and barely-there glitches, folding in indistinct drones to create a low-light texture that centers the record's cinematic gaze. But it's the ticking, mechanical pulses that really get us - a few minutes into "Boundary Curve" and it sounds like you're trapped in a celestial clockmaker's workshop, surrounded by whirring rhythms and quartz-powered plucks.
As the composition evolves, Ikin conjures gaseous atmospheres, interspersing rolling rhythms with prepared guitar and faint blasts of synth. It's almost like a hyper-reduced, mechanized take on a Krautrock-kosmische formula, fired into another dimension and made completely weightless. Barely anything happens, but plenty is implied - and it's better that way. Fantastic stuff.
View more
Solo Andata's Kane Ikin returns to the spotlight after a lengthy break, dematerializing on the Aussie Longform Editions label with an almost half-hour composition that combines meticulous mechanical rhythms with processed guitar and delicate piano echoes. RIYL Oren Ambarchi, Taylor Deupree.
Ikin uses the duration well, building his composition slowly from rattling pots 'n pans and barely-there glitches, folding in indistinct drones to create a low-light texture that centers the record's cinematic gaze. But it's the ticking, mechanical pulses that really get us - a few minutes into "Boundary Curve" and it sounds like you're trapped in a celestial clockmaker's workshop, surrounded by whirring rhythms and quartz-powered plucks.
As the composition evolves, Ikin conjures gaseous atmospheres, interspersing rolling rhythms with prepared guitar and faint blasts of synth. It's almost like a hyper-reduced, mechanized take on a Krautrock-kosmische formula, fired into another dimension and made completely weightless. Barely anything happens, but plenty is implied - and it's better that way. Fantastic stuff.
Solo Andata's Kane Ikin returns to the spotlight after a lengthy break, dematerializing on the Aussie Longform Editions label with an almost half-hour composition that combines meticulous mechanical rhythms with processed guitar and delicate piano echoes. RIYL Oren Ambarchi, Taylor Deupree.
Ikin uses the duration well, building his composition slowly from rattling pots 'n pans and barely-there glitches, folding in indistinct drones to create a low-light texture that centers the record's cinematic gaze. But it's the ticking, mechanical pulses that really get us - a few minutes into "Boundary Curve" and it sounds like you're trapped in a celestial clockmaker's workshop, surrounded by whirring rhythms and quartz-powered plucks.
As the composition evolves, Ikin conjures gaseous atmospheres, interspersing rolling rhythms with prepared guitar and faint blasts of synth. It's almost like a hyper-reduced, mechanized take on a Krautrock-kosmische formula, fired into another dimension and made completely weightless. Barely anything happens, but plenty is implied - and it's better that way. Fantastic stuff.
Solo Andata's Kane Ikin returns to the spotlight after a lengthy break, dematerializing on the Aussie Longform Editions label with an almost half-hour composition that combines meticulous mechanical rhythms with processed guitar and delicate piano echoes. RIYL Oren Ambarchi, Taylor Deupree.
Ikin uses the duration well, building his composition slowly from rattling pots 'n pans and barely-there glitches, folding in indistinct drones to create a low-light texture that centers the record's cinematic gaze. But it's the ticking, mechanical pulses that really get us - a few minutes into "Boundary Curve" and it sounds like you're trapped in a celestial clockmaker's workshop, surrounded by whirring rhythms and quartz-powered plucks.
As the composition evolves, Ikin conjures gaseous atmospheres, interspersing rolling rhythms with prepared guitar and faint blasts of synth. It's almost like a hyper-reduced, mechanized take on a Krautrock-kosmische formula, fired into another dimension and made completely weightless. Barely anything happens, but plenty is implied - and it's better that way. Fantastic stuff.