Classement Vertical
With the air still curdled from Blackest Ever Black's recent reissue of Aura Legato, Timo Van Lujik’s cultish Af Ursin shakes it up again with a brilliant new album of æther-jazz ambiance for the Ultra Eczema label.
Pairing together pieces performed, written and recorded between 2002 and 2015, and united by a intangible, plasmic sort of celestial sonics and probing mind, the album is charged with a playfully frazzled energy and cobwebbed in glistening strands of psychoactive thought, effectively recalling the sound of a one-man Smegma writing free-jazz at his Kulta Saha studio in rolling rural Flanders.
This is the kind of psychedelic jazz hustle that you’d imagine David Lynch to flip his couiffe over; spending 20 minutes luring us into a sprawling maze of creaky strings, spiked horns, and evaporating cymbals played by Van Lujik as a mischievous big band of poltergeist in the A-side’s The Shade of Jazz to Come, whereas the snake-charming pipes, chants and distant drums in Kind of Black sustain a deeply sensuous atmosphere that could easily soundtrack one of Audrey’s daydream fantasies, before it all starts to perfectly unravel in Mistake Five’s big band clatter and prang, taking 13 minutes to “bury Dave Brubeck forever.”
If, as he stresses, Af Ursin music is influenced by the forest and nature, and the multitude of obscure instrumentation at his rural studio, we’re not sure if walking holidays in that neck of the woods are recommended to the easily scared or more fragile listeners. For everybody else, though, this is some proper, free-roaming, off-road business.
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Limited to 300 copies, includes 12"x12" insert.
Out of Stock
With the air still curdled from Blackest Ever Black's recent reissue of Aura Legato, Timo Van Lujik’s cultish Af Ursin shakes it up again with a brilliant new album of æther-jazz ambiance for the Ultra Eczema label.
Pairing together pieces performed, written and recorded between 2002 and 2015, and united by a intangible, plasmic sort of celestial sonics and probing mind, the album is charged with a playfully frazzled energy and cobwebbed in glistening strands of psychoactive thought, effectively recalling the sound of a one-man Smegma writing free-jazz at his Kulta Saha studio in rolling rural Flanders.
This is the kind of psychedelic jazz hustle that you’d imagine David Lynch to flip his couiffe over; spending 20 minutes luring us into a sprawling maze of creaky strings, spiked horns, and evaporating cymbals played by Van Lujik as a mischievous big band of poltergeist in the A-side’s The Shade of Jazz to Come, whereas the snake-charming pipes, chants and distant drums in Kind of Black sustain a deeply sensuous atmosphere that could easily soundtrack one of Audrey’s daydream fantasies, before it all starts to perfectly unravel in Mistake Five’s big band clatter and prang, taking 13 minutes to “bury Dave Brubeck forever.”
If, as he stresses, Af Ursin music is influenced by the forest and nature, and the multitude of obscure instrumentation at his rural studio, we’re not sure if walking holidays in that neck of the woods are recommended to the easily scared or more fragile listeners. For everybody else, though, this is some proper, free-roaming, off-road business.