High grade ‘80s soundtrack noir from Henrik Stelzer’s Metro Riders, going on like early James Ferraro or 1991 channelling John Carpenter.
No high concepts or confounding hi jinx here, just a strong feel for vibe and murky play of light that really sucks you into his world and firmly evokes the inspirations in their own way. Everything's swaddled and sore with ferric infidelity, ‘Lost In Reality’ plays out a dark dream sequence of wheezing, furtive melody and seedy back alley atmospheres that get under our skin from the off.
The synth and reel-to-reel production really gives it that bittersweet tang and foggy regressive quality that was everywhere a decade ago and now seems relegated to the shadows, holding a sexy line between sci-fi noir in the shadowplay of ‘Spasm’ and the clandestine lurk to ‘Contrebande’, slinking in the shivers of ‘Enigma’, and backlit silhouette of ‘Lia Rousseau’.
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High grade ‘80s soundtrack noir from Henrik Stelzer’s Metro Riders, going on like early James Ferraro or 1991 channelling John Carpenter.
No high concepts or confounding hi jinx here, just a strong feel for vibe and murky play of light that really sucks you into his world and firmly evokes the inspirations in their own way. Everything's swaddled and sore with ferric infidelity, ‘Lost In Reality’ plays out a dark dream sequence of wheezing, furtive melody and seedy back alley atmospheres that get under our skin from the off.
The synth and reel-to-reel production really gives it that bittersweet tang and foggy regressive quality that was everywhere a decade ago and now seems relegated to the shadows, holding a sexy line between sci-fi noir in the shadowplay of ‘Spasm’ and the clandestine lurk to ‘Contrebande’, slinking in the shivers of ‘Enigma’, and backlit silhouette of ‘Lia Rousseau’.
High grade ‘80s soundtrack noir from Henrik Stelzer’s Metro Riders, going on like early James Ferraro or 1991 channelling John Carpenter.
No high concepts or confounding hi jinx here, just a strong feel for vibe and murky play of light that really sucks you into his world and firmly evokes the inspirations in their own way. Everything's swaddled and sore with ferric infidelity, ‘Lost In Reality’ plays out a dark dream sequence of wheezing, furtive melody and seedy back alley atmospheres that get under our skin from the off.
The synth and reel-to-reel production really gives it that bittersweet tang and foggy regressive quality that was everywhere a decade ago and now seems relegated to the shadows, holding a sexy line between sci-fi noir in the shadowplay of ‘Spasm’ and the clandestine lurk to ‘Contrebande’, slinking in the shivers of ‘Enigma’, and backlit silhouette of ‘Lia Rousseau’.
High grade ‘80s soundtrack noir from Henrik Stelzer’s Metro Riders, going on like early James Ferraro or 1991 channelling John Carpenter.
No high concepts or confounding hi jinx here, just a strong feel for vibe and murky play of light that really sucks you into his world and firmly evokes the inspirations in their own way. Everything's swaddled and sore with ferric infidelity, ‘Lost In Reality’ plays out a dark dream sequence of wheezing, furtive melody and seedy back alley atmospheres that get under our skin from the off.
The synth and reel-to-reel production really gives it that bittersweet tang and foggy regressive quality that was everywhere a decade ago and now seems relegated to the shadows, holding a sexy line between sci-fi noir in the shadowplay of ‘Spasm’ and the clandestine lurk to ‘Contrebande’, slinking in the shivers of ‘Enigma’, and backlit silhouette of ‘Lia Rousseau’.
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High grade ‘80s soundtrack noir from Henrik Stelzer’s Metro Riders, going on like early James Ferraro or 1991 channelling John Carpenter.
No high concepts or confounding hi jinx here, just a strong feel for vibe and murky play of light that really sucks you into his world and firmly evokes the inspirations in their own way. Everything's swaddled and sore with ferric infidelity, ‘Lost In Reality’ plays out a dark dream sequence of wheezing, furtive melody and seedy back alley atmospheres that get under our skin from the off.
The synth and reel-to-reel production really gives it that bittersweet tang and foggy regressive quality that was everywhere a decade ago and now seems relegated to the shadows, holding a sexy line between sci-fi noir in the shadowplay of ‘Spasm’ and the clandestine lurk to ‘Contrebande’, slinking in the shivers of ‘Enigma’, and backlit silhouette of ‘Lia Rousseau’.