Made in just over a day, Ziúr's "Now Now" is overdriven, airlock pop that seemingly excavates the remains of a Walkman blasted into outer space. Mindboggling.
While the rest of us have been struggling to butter a piece of toast, Berlin's Ziúr has been churning out music at an alarming pace. "Now Now" is a brand new EP released on her own fledgling label and was put together in just over a day. It's far from throwaway too; while other Berlin producers might struggle for a week to find the perfect kick drum (fyi it's always the TR-909), Ziúr has managed to sculpt five jubilant pop vignettes that build on and surpass 2019's outstanding "ATØ".
Anyone who was lucky enough to catch last summer's ambitious full-length live collaboration with Juliana Huxtable will have an idea where Ziúr's head has been at recently. "Now Now" feels like a continuation of that mode as she layers her soaring vocals over rugged sci-fi backdrops that hint at forgotten pop forms without resorting to obvious references. It's like screwed 'n chopped dance pop or squashed, flickering emo rock, piped through a holographic bluetooth soundsystem on Deep Space 9.
Tearful ballad 'Crumble Bittersweet' anchors the record with womping subbasss that sits comfortably beneath Ziúr's voice and hopeful, glassy synths. It's the delicate remains of a culture that now only exists in memory, vocal earworms swirling into the distance and fragments of structure struggling to become whole. 'Reignproof' meanwhile should slake thirsty fans of Ziúr's earlier material, with its club-collapsing "Inception" formula and scorched trap rhythms. But our fave is 'Bleak', an unashamedly uplifting ballad that captures the feeling of sunlight cracking in through the dark.
View more
Made in just over a day, Ziúr's "Now Now" is overdriven, airlock pop that seemingly excavates the remains of a Walkman blasted into outer space. Mindboggling.
While the rest of us have been struggling to butter a piece of toast, Berlin's Ziúr has been churning out music at an alarming pace. "Now Now" is a brand new EP released on her own fledgling label and was put together in just over a day. It's far from throwaway too; while other Berlin producers might struggle for a week to find the perfect kick drum (fyi it's always the TR-909), Ziúr has managed to sculpt five jubilant pop vignettes that build on and surpass 2019's outstanding "ATØ".
Anyone who was lucky enough to catch last summer's ambitious full-length live collaboration with Juliana Huxtable will have an idea where Ziúr's head has been at recently. "Now Now" feels like a continuation of that mode as she layers her soaring vocals over rugged sci-fi backdrops that hint at forgotten pop forms without resorting to obvious references. It's like screwed 'n chopped dance pop or squashed, flickering emo rock, piped through a holographic bluetooth soundsystem on Deep Space 9.
Tearful ballad 'Crumble Bittersweet' anchors the record with womping subbasss that sits comfortably beneath Ziúr's voice and hopeful, glassy synths. It's the delicate remains of a culture that now only exists in memory, vocal earworms swirling into the distance and fragments of structure struggling to become whole. 'Reignproof' meanwhile should slake thirsty fans of Ziúr's earlier material, with its club-collapsing "Inception" formula and scorched trap rhythms. But our fave is 'Bleak', an unashamedly uplifting ballad that captures the feeling of sunlight cracking in through the dark.
Made in just over a day, Ziúr's "Now Now" is overdriven, airlock pop that seemingly excavates the remains of a Walkman blasted into outer space. Mindboggling.
While the rest of us have been struggling to butter a piece of toast, Berlin's Ziúr has been churning out music at an alarming pace. "Now Now" is a brand new EP released on her own fledgling label and was put together in just over a day. It's far from throwaway too; while other Berlin producers might struggle for a week to find the perfect kick drum (fyi it's always the TR-909), Ziúr has managed to sculpt five jubilant pop vignettes that build on and surpass 2019's outstanding "ATØ".
Anyone who was lucky enough to catch last summer's ambitious full-length live collaboration with Juliana Huxtable will have an idea where Ziúr's head has been at recently. "Now Now" feels like a continuation of that mode as she layers her soaring vocals over rugged sci-fi backdrops that hint at forgotten pop forms without resorting to obvious references. It's like screwed 'n chopped dance pop or squashed, flickering emo rock, piped through a holographic bluetooth soundsystem on Deep Space 9.
Tearful ballad 'Crumble Bittersweet' anchors the record with womping subbasss that sits comfortably beneath Ziúr's voice and hopeful, glassy synths. It's the delicate remains of a culture that now only exists in memory, vocal earworms swirling into the distance and fragments of structure struggling to become whole. 'Reignproof' meanwhile should slake thirsty fans of Ziúr's earlier material, with its club-collapsing "Inception" formula and scorched trap rhythms. But our fave is 'Bleak', an unashamedly uplifting ballad that captures the feeling of sunlight cracking in through the dark.
Made in just over a day, Ziúr's "Now Now" is overdriven, airlock pop that seemingly excavates the remains of a Walkman blasted into outer space. Mindboggling.
While the rest of us have been struggling to butter a piece of toast, Berlin's Ziúr has been churning out music at an alarming pace. "Now Now" is a brand new EP released on her own fledgling label and was put together in just over a day. It's far from throwaway too; while other Berlin producers might struggle for a week to find the perfect kick drum (fyi it's always the TR-909), Ziúr has managed to sculpt five jubilant pop vignettes that build on and surpass 2019's outstanding "ATØ".
Anyone who was lucky enough to catch last summer's ambitious full-length live collaboration with Juliana Huxtable will have an idea where Ziúr's head has been at recently. "Now Now" feels like a continuation of that mode as she layers her soaring vocals over rugged sci-fi backdrops that hint at forgotten pop forms without resorting to obvious references. It's like screwed 'n chopped dance pop or squashed, flickering emo rock, piped through a holographic bluetooth soundsystem on Deep Space 9.
Tearful ballad 'Crumble Bittersweet' anchors the record with womping subbasss that sits comfortably beneath Ziúr's voice and hopeful, glassy synths. It's the delicate remains of a culture that now only exists in memory, vocal earworms swirling into the distance and fragments of structure struggling to become whole. 'Reignproof' meanwhile should slake thirsty fans of Ziúr's earlier material, with its club-collapsing "Inception" formula and scorched trap rhythms. But our fave is 'Bleak', an unashamedly uplifting ballad that captures the feeling of sunlight cracking in through the dark.