With their classic ‘Psychic 9-5 Club' album fast approaching its 10th anniversary, HTRK finally make its companion piece ‘Lilac’ available on vinyl for the first time, a magnificent half-hour recorded in Santa Fe, Sydney and NYC between 2012-2013, featuring a set of pulsing dubs, experimental recitals and smeared versions that find the duo at their most elusive. A reminder, if it were needed, that they really are one of the best to ever do it.
When Jonnine Standish and Nigel Yang released 'Psychic 9-5 Club' a decade ago, they put together a limited version called 'Psychic Lilac', melting three horizontal reworks of the album's last three tracks into an undulating medley. A few years later, they repackaged it as 'Lilac', splitting up the tracks and adding a couple more: the all-analog 'Blue Sunshine' forerunner 'Dying' and 'Female Jealousy', a hallucinogenic slop of pulses that examines the heartbeat fetish scene (prob not worth googling this one, lol). Now pressed on wax for the first time, the EP stands tall on its own; piercing a veil of sludgy ambience and lethargic palpitations in a way that feels a bit like revisiting whispers from an old friend.
Occupying a fine fissure in their catalogue, made at a time when the duo were strung out between albums, the EP opens with a version of 'The Body You Deserve’, reduced to a gauzy quiver where Jonnine can barely muster the words. On 'Chinatown Style’, she’s pushed back to the foreground, sailing over an echoing dub in stunning, low-lit fashion. 'Love is Distraction', one of 'Psychic 9-5 Club's most memorable tracks, is then sculpted into a hypnagogic fantasy, with lysergic tape noise rupturing beatbox thuds.
The two additional tracks build out the narrative even further: On ‘Dying' Standish and Yang make a lot out of very little, while the wavy 'Female Jealousy' is worth the price of admission alone. It’s one of HTRK's most vaporous compositions, melting vague tremors into lascivious pads, spinning a web of puzzling ambience. Almost beatless, it's narcotic and enigmatic stuff, providing the EP with a flawless, unforgettable ending.
View more
With their classic ‘Psychic 9-5 Club' album fast approaching its 10th anniversary, HTRK finally make its companion piece ‘Lilac’ available on vinyl for the first time, a magnificent half-hour recorded in Santa Fe, Sydney and NYC between 2012-2013, featuring a set of pulsing dubs, experimental recitals and smeared versions that find the duo at their most elusive. A reminder, if it were needed, that they really are one of the best to ever do it.
When Jonnine Standish and Nigel Yang released 'Psychic 9-5 Club' a decade ago, they put together a limited version called 'Psychic Lilac', melting three horizontal reworks of the album's last three tracks into an undulating medley. A few years later, they repackaged it as 'Lilac', splitting up the tracks and adding a couple more: the all-analog 'Blue Sunshine' forerunner 'Dying' and 'Female Jealousy', a hallucinogenic slop of pulses that examines the heartbeat fetish scene (prob not worth googling this one, lol). Now pressed on wax for the first time, the EP stands tall on its own; piercing a veil of sludgy ambience and lethargic palpitations in a way that feels a bit like revisiting whispers from an old friend.
Occupying a fine fissure in their catalogue, made at a time when the duo were strung out between albums, the EP opens with a version of 'The Body You Deserve’, reduced to a gauzy quiver where Jonnine can barely muster the words. On 'Chinatown Style’, she’s pushed back to the foreground, sailing over an echoing dub in stunning, low-lit fashion. 'Love is Distraction', one of 'Psychic 9-5 Club's most memorable tracks, is then sculpted into a hypnagogic fantasy, with lysergic tape noise rupturing beatbox thuds.
The two additional tracks build out the narrative even further: On ‘Dying' Standish and Yang make a lot out of very little, while the wavy 'Female Jealousy' is worth the price of admission alone. It’s one of HTRK's most vaporous compositions, melting vague tremors into lascivious pads, spinning a web of puzzling ambience. Almost beatless, it's narcotic and enigmatic stuff, providing the EP with a flawless, unforgettable ending.
With their classic ‘Psychic 9-5 Club' album fast approaching its 10th anniversary, HTRK finally make its companion piece ‘Lilac’ available on vinyl for the first time, a magnificent half-hour recorded in Santa Fe, Sydney and NYC between 2012-2013, featuring a set of pulsing dubs, experimental recitals and smeared versions that find the duo at their most elusive. A reminder, if it were needed, that they really are one of the best to ever do it.
When Jonnine Standish and Nigel Yang released 'Psychic 9-5 Club' a decade ago, they put together a limited version called 'Psychic Lilac', melting three horizontal reworks of the album's last three tracks into an undulating medley. A few years later, they repackaged it as 'Lilac', splitting up the tracks and adding a couple more: the all-analog 'Blue Sunshine' forerunner 'Dying' and 'Female Jealousy', a hallucinogenic slop of pulses that examines the heartbeat fetish scene (prob not worth googling this one, lol). Now pressed on wax for the first time, the EP stands tall on its own; piercing a veil of sludgy ambience and lethargic palpitations in a way that feels a bit like revisiting whispers from an old friend.
Occupying a fine fissure in their catalogue, made at a time when the duo were strung out between albums, the EP opens with a version of 'The Body You Deserve’, reduced to a gauzy quiver where Jonnine can barely muster the words. On 'Chinatown Style’, she’s pushed back to the foreground, sailing over an echoing dub in stunning, low-lit fashion. 'Love is Distraction', one of 'Psychic 9-5 Club's most memorable tracks, is then sculpted into a hypnagogic fantasy, with lysergic tape noise rupturing beatbox thuds.
The two additional tracks build out the narrative even further: On ‘Dying' Standish and Yang make a lot out of very little, while the wavy 'Female Jealousy' is worth the price of admission alone. It’s one of HTRK's most vaporous compositions, melting vague tremors into lascivious pads, spinning a web of puzzling ambience. Almost beatless, it's narcotic and enigmatic stuff, providing the EP with a flawless, unforgettable ending.
With their classic ‘Psychic 9-5 Club' album fast approaching its 10th anniversary, HTRK finally make its companion piece ‘Lilac’ available on vinyl for the first time, a magnificent half-hour recorded in Santa Fe, Sydney and NYC between 2012-2013, featuring a set of pulsing dubs, experimental recitals and smeared versions that find the duo at their most elusive. A reminder, if it were needed, that they really are one of the best to ever do it.
When Jonnine Standish and Nigel Yang released 'Psychic 9-5 Club' a decade ago, they put together a limited version called 'Psychic Lilac', melting three horizontal reworks of the album's last three tracks into an undulating medley. A few years later, they repackaged it as 'Lilac', splitting up the tracks and adding a couple more: the all-analog 'Blue Sunshine' forerunner 'Dying' and 'Female Jealousy', a hallucinogenic slop of pulses that examines the heartbeat fetish scene (prob not worth googling this one, lol). Now pressed on wax for the first time, the EP stands tall on its own; piercing a veil of sludgy ambience and lethargic palpitations in a way that feels a bit like revisiting whispers from an old friend.
Occupying a fine fissure in their catalogue, made at a time when the duo were strung out between albums, the EP opens with a version of 'The Body You Deserve’, reduced to a gauzy quiver where Jonnine can barely muster the words. On 'Chinatown Style’, she’s pushed back to the foreground, sailing over an echoing dub in stunning, low-lit fashion. 'Love is Distraction', one of 'Psychic 9-5 Club's most memorable tracks, is then sculpted into a hypnagogic fantasy, with lysergic tape noise rupturing beatbox thuds.
The two additional tracks build out the narrative even further: On ‘Dying' Standish and Yang make a lot out of very little, while the wavy 'Female Jealousy' is worth the price of admission alone. It’s one of HTRK's most vaporous compositions, melting vague tremors into lascivious pads, spinning a web of puzzling ambience. Almost beatless, it's narcotic and enigmatic stuff, providing the EP with a flawless, unforgettable ending.