Kallista Kult
Kallista Kult
Boomkat Product Review:
Woozy, dubbed-out Antipodean heat haze rises like inter-dimensional vapor on the debut from shadowy Melbourne outfit Kallista Kult. Severely rubbed-out blunt trails and gunpowder sizzle fer fans of YL Hooi, HTRK, CS + Kreme, Laila Sakini and early Inga Copeland.
Not much has been revealed about Kallista Kult, but from the sound of this debut, it might be better that way. There's a spiral of incantational magick surrounding the tracks, building from the sparest ingredients - echoing vocal rituals, low-slung bass, eerie groans, kraut-synths - into charm'd blurs of narcotic sound. Lyrics are smudged with sage into tongue-spoken vortexes and rhythms bob up from the murk only to be sucked down again to disappear completely.
There's a disarming sweetness to opening track 'The Earth Did A Line', as honeyed Grouper-esque echo coos fade in-and-out of a bassline that provides an undulating rhythm section. Static buzzes like broken power lines, and doomed grimbient washes provide a mirrored hall of refracted atmosphere. 'When I Splice Into You' evokes a different mood altogether, meshing the vocal stylings with arpeggiated analog bleeps and angled, glassy shards of reverb-soused guitar. Each sound is pasted into a hypnogogic dream diary of NYC's downtown era, and post-punk grot is redesigned as stargazing ferric dub.
On 'Creature Feature Spinoza Version' the faintest traces of lounge jazz materialize, appearing next to horn sounds and a molasses-slow bossa beatbox, perched alongside cobwebby pads. 'Who Do I Tell' rounds off the record in fine style, pushing our heads deep under the rime, assisted by ping-ping squeals and triangle dings. "Kallista Kult" is as windswept and wandersome as HTRK's recent "Rhinestones", but almost loses all traces of songs in a swirl of mystery, atmosphere and blue smoke. Classic.
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Boomkat Product Review:
Woozy, dubbed-out Antipodean heat haze rises like inter-dimensional vapor on the debut from shadowy Melbourne outfit Kallista Kult. Severely rubbed-out blunt trails and gunpowder sizzle fer fans of YL Hooi, HTRK, CS + Kreme, Laila Sakini and early Inga Copeland.
Not much has been revealed about Kallista Kult, but from the sound of this debut, it might be better that way. There's a spiral of incantational magick surrounding the tracks, building from the sparest ingredients - echoing vocal rituals, low-slung bass, eerie groans, kraut-synths - into charm'd blurs of narcotic sound. Lyrics are smudged with sage into tongue-spoken vortexes and rhythms bob up from the murk only to be sucked down again to disappear completely.
There's a disarming sweetness to opening track 'The Earth Did A Line', as honeyed Grouper-esque echo coos fade in-and-out of a bassline that provides an undulating rhythm section. Static buzzes like broken power lines, and doomed grimbient washes provide a mirrored hall of refracted atmosphere. 'When I Splice Into You' evokes a different mood altogether, meshing the vocal stylings with arpeggiated analog bleeps and angled, glassy shards of reverb-soused guitar. Each sound is pasted into a hypnogogic dream diary of NYC's downtown era, and post-punk grot is redesigned as stargazing ferric dub.
On 'Creature Feature Spinoza Version' the faintest traces of lounge jazz materialize, appearing next to horn sounds and a molasses-slow bossa beatbox, perched alongside cobwebby pads. 'Who Do I Tell' rounds off the record in fine style, pushing our heads deep under the rime, assisted by ping-ping squeals and triangle dings. "Kallista Kult" is as windswept and wandersome as HTRK's recent "Rhinestones", but almost loses all traces of songs in a swirl of mystery, atmosphere and blue smoke. Classic.
Boomkat Product Review:
Woozy, dubbed-out Antipodean heat haze rises like inter-dimensional vapor on the debut from shadowy Melbourne outfit Kallista Kult. Severely rubbed-out blunt trails and gunpowder sizzle fer fans of YL Hooi, HTRK, CS + Kreme, Laila Sakini and early Inga Copeland.
Not much has been revealed about Kallista Kult, but from the sound of this debut, it might be better that way. There's a spiral of incantational magick surrounding the tracks, building from the sparest ingredients - echoing vocal rituals, low-slung bass, eerie groans, kraut-synths - into charm'd blurs of narcotic sound. Lyrics are smudged with sage into tongue-spoken vortexes and rhythms bob up from the murk only to be sucked down again to disappear completely.
There's a disarming sweetness to opening track 'The Earth Did A Line', as honeyed Grouper-esque echo coos fade in-and-out of a bassline that provides an undulating rhythm section. Static buzzes like broken power lines, and doomed grimbient washes provide a mirrored hall of refracted atmosphere. 'When I Splice Into You' evokes a different mood altogether, meshing the vocal stylings with arpeggiated analog bleeps and angled, glassy shards of reverb-soused guitar. Each sound is pasted into a hypnogogic dream diary of NYC's downtown era, and post-punk grot is redesigned as stargazing ferric dub.
On 'Creature Feature Spinoza Version' the faintest traces of lounge jazz materialize, appearing next to horn sounds and a molasses-slow bossa beatbox, perched alongside cobwebby pads. 'Who Do I Tell' rounds off the record in fine style, pushing our heads deep under the rime, assisted by ping-ping squeals and triangle dings. "Kallista Kult" is as windswept and wandersome as HTRK's recent "Rhinestones", but almost loses all traces of songs in a swirl of mystery, atmosphere and blue smoke. Classic.
Boomkat Product Review:
Woozy, dubbed-out Antipodean heat haze rises like inter-dimensional vapor on the debut from shadowy Melbourne outfit Kallista Kult. Severely rubbed-out blunt trails and gunpowder sizzle fer fans of YL Hooi, HTRK, CS + Kreme, Laila Sakini and early Inga Copeland.
Not much has been revealed about Kallista Kult, but from the sound of this debut, it might be better that way. There's a spiral of incantational magick surrounding the tracks, building from the sparest ingredients - echoing vocal rituals, low-slung bass, eerie groans, kraut-synths - into charm'd blurs of narcotic sound. Lyrics are smudged with sage into tongue-spoken vortexes and rhythms bob up from the murk only to be sucked down again to disappear completely.
There's a disarming sweetness to opening track 'The Earth Did A Line', as honeyed Grouper-esque echo coos fade in-and-out of a bassline that provides an undulating rhythm section. Static buzzes like broken power lines, and doomed grimbient washes provide a mirrored hall of refracted atmosphere. 'When I Splice Into You' evokes a different mood altogether, meshing the vocal stylings with arpeggiated analog bleeps and angled, glassy shards of reverb-soused guitar. Each sound is pasted into a hypnogogic dream diary of NYC's downtown era, and post-punk grot is redesigned as stargazing ferric dub.
On 'Creature Feature Spinoza Version' the faintest traces of lounge jazz materialize, appearing next to horn sounds and a molasses-slow bossa beatbox, perched alongside cobwebby pads. 'Who Do I Tell' rounds off the record in fine style, pushing our heads deep under the rime, assisted by ping-ping squeals and triangle dings. "Kallista Kult" is as windswept and wandersome as HTRK's recent "Rhinestones", but almost loses all traces of songs in a swirl of mystery, atmosphere and blue smoke. Classic.
Edition of 150 with printed lyric sheet and insert.
Out of Stock
Boomkat Product Review:
Woozy, dubbed-out Antipodean heat haze rises like inter-dimensional vapor on the debut from shadowy Melbourne outfit Kallista Kult. Severely rubbed-out blunt trails and gunpowder sizzle fer fans of YL Hooi, HTRK, CS + Kreme, Laila Sakini and early Inga Copeland.
Not much has been revealed about Kallista Kult, but from the sound of this debut, it might be better that way. There's a spiral of incantational magick surrounding the tracks, building from the sparest ingredients - echoing vocal rituals, low-slung bass, eerie groans, kraut-synths - into charm'd blurs of narcotic sound. Lyrics are smudged with sage into tongue-spoken vortexes and rhythms bob up from the murk only to be sucked down again to disappear completely.
There's a disarming sweetness to opening track 'The Earth Did A Line', as honeyed Grouper-esque echo coos fade in-and-out of a bassline that provides an undulating rhythm section. Static buzzes like broken power lines, and doomed grimbient washes provide a mirrored hall of refracted atmosphere. 'When I Splice Into You' evokes a different mood altogether, meshing the vocal stylings with arpeggiated analog bleeps and angled, glassy shards of reverb-soused guitar. Each sound is pasted into a hypnogogic dream diary of NYC's downtown era, and post-punk grot is redesigned as stargazing ferric dub.
On 'Creature Feature Spinoza Version' the faintest traces of lounge jazz materialize, appearing next to horn sounds and a molasses-slow bossa beatbox, perched alongside cobwebby pads. 'Who Do I Tell' rounds off the record in fine style, pushing our heads deep under the rime, assisted by ping-ping squeals and triangle dings. "Kallista Kult" is as windswept and wandersome as HTRK's recent "Rhinestones", but almost loses all traces of songs in a swirl of mystery, atmosphere and blue smoke. Classic.
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