Nestor's Nest
Chicago Underground co-founder Rob Mazurek descends on the Keroxen imprint with his wildest solo excursion in years, a batshit mashup of jagged modular experiments, woodwind and brass improvisations, processed field recordings and hyperactive sampler workouts.
Mazurek was only supposed to be out in Tenerife to play at Keroxen's yearly festival in 2023, but blessed with some free time, he decided to use the opportunity to crank out an entire record. And it's one's way out there; Mazurek's always worth a look - whether he's playing with Exploding Star Orchestra or going toe to toe with his Quartet - and 'Nestor's Nest' is a serendipitous jam that arrives without a filter. Perched in an "idyllic" garden, he takes cues from the tropical fruits that surround him, opening with half a minute of twangy electro-acoustic knuckle-cracking that works as the orchestra tune-up before we're hit with 'Banana Fruit'. It's worth the asking price alone, a side-long modular jam that runs spooked sine-wave wails underneath neck-snapping AE-like rhythmic stutters and acidic squelches. Adding distortion as it progresses, Mazurek refuses to let the beat loop without interruption, dispersing the rhythms with stutters until he busts out a mic in the final act, going back and forth between trumpet and voice.
'Under the Papaya Tree' isa short, unaccompanied woodwind jam, before Mazurek leads us back into chaos on 'Mango Fruit', laying down an unkempt beatbox loop (the sorta thing you'd find on some lost German DIY tape) that's adrenalized by broken pipe noise and decaying modular oscillations. And if that wasn't enough, he ties everything together with 11 minutes of psycho-spiritual sci-fi synth drones - think Fourth World 'Forbidden Planet' OST, overdubbed with whispered woodwind, blown-out trumpet and ecstatic "spirit call" chants. Wild.
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Chicago Underground co-founder Rob Mazurek descends on the Keroxen imprint with his wildest solo excursion in years, a batshit mashup of jagged modular experiments, woodwind and brass improvisations, processed field recordings and hyperactive sampler workouts.
Mazurek was only supposed to be out in Tenerife to play at Keroxen's yearly festival in 2023, but blessed with some free time, he decided to use the opportunity to crank out an entire record. And it's one's way out there; Mazurek's always worth a look - whether he's playing with Exploding Star Orchestra or going toe to toe with his Quartet - and 'Nestor's Nest' is a serendipitous jam that arrives without a filter. Perched in an "idyllic" garden, he takes cues from the tropical fruits that surround him, opening with half a minute of twangy electro-acoustic knuckle-cracking that works as the orchestra tune-up before we're hit with 'Banana Fruit'. It's worth the asking price alone, a side-long modular jam that runs spooked sine-wave wails underneath neck-snapping AE-like rhythmic stutters and acidic squelches. Adding distortion as it progresses, Mazurek refuses to let the beat loop without interruption, dispersing the rhythms with stutters until he busts out a mic in the final act, going back and forth between trumpet and voice.
'Under the Papaya Tree' isa short, unaccompanied woodwind jam, before Mazurek leads us back into chaos on 'Mango Fruit', laying down an unkempt beatbox loop (the sorta thing you'd find on some lost German DIY tape) that's adrenalized by broken pipe noise and decaying modular oscillations. And if that wasn't enough, he ties everything together with 11 minutes of psycho-spiritual sci-fi synth drones - think Fourth World 'Forbidden Planet' OST, overdubbed with whispered woodwind, blown-out trumpet and ecstatic "spirit call" chants. Wild.
Chicago Underground co-founder Rob Mazurek descends on the Keroxen imprint with his wildest solo excursion in years, a batshit mashup of jagged modular experiments, woodwind and brass improvisations, processed field recordings and hyperactive sampler workouts.
Mazurek was only supposed to be out in Tenerife to play at Keroxen's yearly festival in 2023, but blessed with some free time, he decided to use the opportunity to crank out an entire record. And it's one's way out there; Mazurek's always worth a look - whether he's playing with Exploding Star Orchestra or going toe to toe with his Quartet - and 'Nestor's Nest' is a serendipitous jam that arrives without a filter. Perched in an "idyllic" garden, he takes cues from the tropical fruits that surround him, opening with half a minute of twangy electro-acoustic knuckle-cracking that works as the orchestra tune-up before we're hit with 'Banana Fruit'. It's worth the asking price alone, a side-long modular jam that runs spooked sine-wave wails underneath neck-snapping AE-like rhythmic stutters and acidic squelches. Adding distortion as it progresses, Mazurek refuses to let the beat loop without interruption, dispersing the rhythms with stutters until he busts out a mic in the final act, going back and forth between trumpet and voice.
'Under the Papaya Tree' isa short, unaccompanied woodwind jam, before Mazurek leads us back into chaos on 'Mango Fruit', laying down an unkempt beatbox loop (the sorta thing you'd find on some lost German DIY tape) that's adrenalized by broken pipe noise and decaying modular oscillations. And if that wasn't enough, he ties everything together with 11 minutes of psycho-spiritual sci-fi synth drones - think Fourth World 'Forbidden Planet' OST, overdubbed with whispered woodwind, blown-out trumpet and ecstatic "spirit call" chants. Wild.
Chicago Underground co-founder Rob Mazurek descends on the Keroxen imprint with his wildest solo excursion in years, a batshit mashup of jagged modular experiments, woodwind and brass improvisations, processed field recordings and hyperactive sampler workouts.
Mazurek was only supposed to be out in Tenerife to play at Keroxen's yearly festival in 2023, but blessed with some free time, he decided to use the opportunity to crank out an entire record. And it's one's way out there; Mazurek's always worth a look - whether he's playing with Exploding Star Orchestra or going toe to toe with his Quartet - and 'Nestor's Nest' is a serendipitous jam that arrives without a filter. Perched in an "idyllic" garden, he takes cues from the tropical fruits that surround him, opening with half a minute of twangy electro-acoustic knuckle-cracking that works as the orchestra tune-up before we're hit with 'Banana Fruit'. It's worth the asking price alone, a side-long modular jam that runs spooked sine-wave wails underneath neck-snapping AE-like rhythmic stutters and acidic squelches. Adding distortion as it progresses, Mazurek refuses to let the beat loop without interruption, dispersing the rhythms with stutters until he busts out a mic in the final act, going back and forth between trumpet and voice.
'Under the Papaya Tree' isa short, unaccompanied woodwind jam, before Mazurek leads us back into chaos on 'Mango Fruit', laying down an unkempt beatbox loop (the sorta thing you'd find on some lost German DIY tape) that's adrenalized by broken pipe noise and decaying modular oscillations. And if that wasn't enough, he ties everything together with 11 minutes of psycho-spiritual sci-fi synth drones - think Fourth World 'Forbidden Planet' OST, overdubbed with whispered woodwind, blown-out trumpet and ecstatic "spirit call" chants. Wild.
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Chicago Underground co-founder Rob Mazurek descends on the Keroxen imprint with his wildest solo excursion in years, a batshit mashup of jagged modular experiments, woodwind and brass improvisations, processed field recordings and hyperactive sampler workouts.
Mazurek was only supposed to be out in Tenerife to play at Keroxen's yearly festival in 2023, but blessed with some free time, he decided to use the opportunity to crank out an entire record. And it's one's way out there; Mazurek's always worth a look - whether he's playing with Exploding Star Orchestra or going toe to toe with his Quartet - and 'Nestor's Nest' is a serendipitous jam that arrives without a filter. Perched in an "idyllic" garden, he takes cues from the tropical fruits that surround him, opening with half a minute of twangy electro-acoustic knuckle-cracking that works as the orchestra tune-up before we're hit with 'Banana Fruit'. It's worth the asking price alone, a side-long modular jam that runs spooked sine-wave wails underneath neck-snapping AE-like rhythmic stutters and acidic squelches. Adding distortion as it progresses, Mazurek refuses to let the beat loop without interruption, dispersing the rhythms with stutters until he busts out a mic in the final act, going back and forth between trumpet and voice.
'Under the Papaya Tree' isa short, unaccompanied woodwind jam, before Mazurek leads us back into chaos on 'Mango Fruit', laying down an unkempt beatbox loop (the sorta thing you'd find on some lost German DIY tape) that's adrenalized by broken pipe noise and decaying modular oscillations. And if that wasn't enough, he ties everything together with 11 minutes of psycho-spiritual sci-fi synth drones - think Fourth World 'Forbidden Planet' OST, overdubbed with whispered woodwind, blown-out trumpet and ecstatic "spirit call" chants. Wild.