Cucina Povera casts her glossolalic magic in a swirl of durational excursions for voice, organ and synth, full of messed-up laser etched ambient-pop hymns, making for an insanely strong debut with Primordial Void (Oï les Ox, Roxane Meatier, Susu Laroche) - this stuff sounds like nowt else.
Always welcome around this way, the Glasgow-based Finnish artist really hit her stride in 2020 on collaborations with Haron and Els, respectively, that built on the rare reputation of her early releases for Night School. In ‘Lumme’ she’s back to peerless solo mode, testing her sound in a longform context on a 20 minute expanse of levitating organ tones and tremulous washes on ’Sinisen ruusun tapaus,’ before pulling focus into a set of puckered vignettes and cosmic, loose and languid pearls.
The aforementioned ‘Sinisen ruusun tapaus,’ is a real standout, pushing her sound in line with the micro-trend of contemporary organ music, but without the stiffness, instead following her nose along a line of floating chord clusters and tip-of-tongue almost-melodies in a way that recalls Áine O’Dwyer’s improvised looseness rather than Kali Malone’s stoic elegance, for example.
Making full use of the CD/digital format after a string of LP-formatted releases, ‘Lumme’ also makes plentiful room for her to sprawl out, taking in unusually upfront synth tones in the prime beat-less roller ‘Maahan’, and more distressed synth noise in ’Tuuli pajuissa,’ with a haptic sensitivity recalling Claire Rousay’s work underlying ‘Kullan.’ But if you’re after one of her signature ohrwurms, the slow burn beauty of ‘EKR’ and The Spacelady-esque cosmic bliss of ‘Pullo’ are unmissable.
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Cucina Povera casts her glossolalic magic in a swirl of durational excursions for voice, organ and synth, full of messed-up laser etched ambient-pop hymns, making for an insanely strong debut with Primordial Void (Oï les Ox, Roxane Meatier, Susu Laroche) - this stuff sounds like nowt else.
Always welcome around this way, the Glasgow-based Finnish artist really hit her stride in 2020 on collaborations with Haron and Els, respectively, that built on the rare reputation of her early releases for Night School. In ‘Lumme’ she’s back to peerless solo mode, testing her sound in a longform context on a 20 minute expanse of levitating organ tones and tremulous washes on ’Sinisen ruusun tapaus,’ before pulling focus into a set of puckered vignettes and cosmic, loose and languid pearls.
The aforementioned ‘Sinisen ruusun tapaus,’ is a real standout, pushing her sound in line with the micro-trend of contemporary organ music, but without the stiffness, instead following her nose along a line of floating chord clusters and tip-of-tongue almost-melodies in a way that recalls Áine O’Dwyer’s improvised looseness rather than Kali Malone’s stoic elegance, for example.
Making full use of the CD/digital format after a string of LP-formatted releases, ‘Lumme’ also makes plentiful room for her to sprawl out, taking in unusually upfront synth tones in the prime beat-less roller ‘Maahan’, and more distressed synth noise in ’Tuuli pajuissa,’ with a haptic sensitivity recalling Claire Rousay’s work underlying ‘Kullan.’ But if you’re after one of her signature ohrwurms, the slow burn beauty of ‘EKR’ and The Spacelady-esque cosmic bliss of ‘Pullo’ are unmissable.
Cucina Povera casts her glossolalic magic in a swirl of durational excursions for voice, organ and synth, full of messed-up laser etched ambient-pop hymns, making for an insanely strong debut with Primordial Void (Oï les Ox, Roxane Meatier, Susu Laroche) - this stuff sounds like nowt else.
Always welcome around this way, the Glasgow-based Finnish artist really hit her stride in 2020 on collaborations with Haron and Els, respectively, that built on the rare reputation of her early releases for Night School. In ‘Lumme’ she’s back to peerless solo mode, testing her sound in a longform context on a 20 minute expanse of levitating organ tones and tremulous washes on ’Sinisen ruusun tapaus,’ before pulling focus into a set of puckered vignettes and cosmic, loose and languid pearls.
The aforementioned ‘Sinisen ruusun tapaus,’ is a real standout, pushing her sound in line with the micro-trend of contemporary organ music, but without the stiffness, instead following her nose along a line of floating chord clusters and tip-of-tongue almost-melodies in a way that recalls Áine O’Dwyer’s improvised looseness rather than Kali Malone’s stoic elegance, for example.
Making full use of the CD/digital format after a string of LP-formatted releases, ‘Lumme’ also makes plentiful room for her to sprawl out, taking in unusually upfront synth tones in the prime beat-less roller ‘Maahan’, and more distressed synth noise in ’Tuuli pajuissa,’ with a haptic sensitivity recalling Claire Rousay’s work underlying ‘Kullan.’ But if you’re after one of her signature ohrwurms, the slow burn beauty of ‘EKR’ and The Spacelady-esque cosmic bliss of ‘Pullo’ are unmissable.
Cucina Povera casts her glossolalic magic in a swirl of durational excursions for voice, organ and synth, full of messed-up laser etched ambient-pop hymns, making for an insanely strong debut with Primordial Void (Oï les Ox, Roxane Meatier, Susu Laroche) - this stuff sounds like nowt else.
Always welcome around this way, the Glasgow-based Finnish artist really hit her stride in 2020 on collaborations with Haron and Els, respectively, that built on the rare reputation of her early releases for Night School. In ‘Lumme’ she’s back to peerless solo mode, testing her sound in a longform context on a 20 minute expanse of levitating organ tones and tremulous washes on ’Sinisen ruusun tapaus,’ before pulling focus into a set of puckered vignettes and cosmic, loose and languid pearls.
The aforementioned ‘Sinisen ruusun tapaus,’ is a real standout, pushing her sound in line with the micro-trend of contemporary organ music, but without the stiffness, instead following her nose along a line of floating chord clusters and tip-of-tongue almost-melodies in a way that recalls Áine O’Dwyer’s improvised looseness rather than Kali Malone’s stoic elegance, for example.
Making full use of the CD/digital format after a string of LP-formatted releases, ‘Lumme’ also makes plentiful room for her to sprawl out, taking in unusually upfront synth tones in the prime beat-less roller ‘Maahan’, and more distressed synth noise in ’Tuuli pajuissa,’ with a haptic sensitivity recalling Claire Rousay’s work underlying ‘Kullan.’ But if you’re after one of her signature ohrwurms, the slow burn beauty of ‘EKR’ and The Spacelady-esque cosmic bliss of ‘Pullo’ are unmissable.