Riveting label debut from Berlin’s Gil for Aïsha Devi and co’s Danse Noire, seeing off 2016 with a fierce session of reggateon riddims and deconstructed club shrapnel backed by remixes from fellow prism smashers, J.G. Biberkopf and Imaabs.
Grounded in “emerging post-human theories and the surreal collage culture of underground circles”, Gil’s Orchids & Wasps EP is one of the most compelling examples of current phase shifts from classically conventional structures to increasingly simulacra-like playgrounds where previously mutually exclusive styles collide, invert, and create new, syncretic forms.
On Bruxism he emerges from an unfathomable void to pitch between pelting flashcore and chest-quaking, 100bpm reggaeton kicks alloyed by way of screechy noise flux, whereas Many takes a more warped route via a kiddy’s choir into a sloshing, rabid bout of dembow drums and salty noise that sounds like Russell Haswell mud-wrestling with Florentino, and his Onset comes hardest of all with a brutal display of possessed black metal howl and wretches pinned into place by railgunning snares and claps, eventually resolving to another dutty wine and obliterating outro that sounds unnervingly close to an actual murder on the ‘floor.
The remixers were clearly picked wisely, handing over Onset to J.G. Biberkopf for an hallucinatory, psychoacoustic rush of defibrillating bass pulse and mind-warping chromatic keen, before NAAFI’s Imaabs jettisons the beat almost entirely, leaving the same elements to scare the shit out of each other in a freezing cold anti-gravity chamber.
Strong stuff. Future sickness.
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Riveting label debut from Berlin’s Gil for Aïsha Devi and co’s Danse Noire, seeing off 2016 with a fierce session of reggateon riddims and deconstructed club shrapnel backed by remixes from fellow prism smashers, J.G. Biberkopf and Imaabs.
Grounded in “emerging post-human theories and the surreal collage culture of underground circles”, Gil’s Orchids & Wasps EP is one of the most compelling examples of current phase shifts from classically conventional structures to increasingly simulacra-like playgrounds where previously mutually exclusive styles collide, invert, and create new, syncretic forms.
On Bruxism he emerges from an unfathomable void to pitch between pelting flashcore and chest-quaking, 100bpm reggaeton kicks alloyed by way of screechy noise flux, whereas Many takes a more warped route via a kiddy’s choir into a sloshing, rabid bout of dembow drums and salty noise that sounds like Russell Haswell mud-wrestling with Florentino, and his Onset comes hardest of all with a brutal display of possessed black metal howl and wretches pinned into place by railgunning snares and claps, eventually resolving to another dutty wine and obliterating outro that sounds unnervingly close to an actual murder on the ‘floor.
The remixers were clearly picked wisely, handing over Onset to J.G. Biberkopf for an hallucinatory, psychoacoustic rush of defibrillating bass pulse and mind-warping chromatic keen, before NAAFI’s Imaabs jettisons the beat almost entirely, leaving the same elements to scare the shit out of each other in a freezing cold anti-gravity chamber.
Strong stuff. Future sickness.
Riveting label debut from Berlin’s Gil for Aïsha Devi and co’s Danse Noire, seeing off 2016 with a fierce session of reggateon riddims and deconstructed club shrapnel backed by remixes from fellow prism smashers, J.G. Biberkopf and Imaabs.
Grounded in “emerging post-human theories and the surreal collage culture of underground circles”, Gil’s Orchids & Wasps EP is one of the most compelling examples of current phase shifts from classically conventional structures to increasingly simulacra-like playgrounds where previously mutually exclusive styles collide, invert, and create new, syncretic forms.
On Bruxism he emerges from an unfathomable void to pitch between pelting flashcore and chest-quaking, 100bpm reggaeton kicks alloyed by way of screechy noise flux, whereas Many takes a more warped route via a kiddy’s choir into a sloshing, rabid bout of dembow drums and salty noise that sounds like Russell Haswell mud-wrestling with Florentino, and his Onset comes hardest of all with a brutal display of possessed black metal howl and wretches pinned into place by railgunning snares and claps, eventually resolving to another dutty wine and obliterating outro that sounds unnervingly close to an actual murder on the ‘floor.
The remixers were clearly picked wisely, handing over Onset to J.G. Biberkopf for an hallucinatory, psychoacoustic rush of defibrillating bass pulse and mind-warping chromatic keen, before NAAFI’s Imaabs jettisons the beat almost entirely, leaving the same elements to scare the shit out of each other in a freezing cold anti-gravity chamber.
Strong stuff. Future sickness.
Riveting label debut from Berlin’s Gil for Aïsha Devi and co’s Danse Noire, seeing off 2016 with a fierce session of reggateon riddims and deconstructed club shrapnel backed by remixes from fellow prism smashers, J.G. Biberkopf and Imaabs.
Grounded in “emerging post-human theories and the surreal collage culture of underground circles”, Gil’s Orchids & Wasps EP is one of the most compelling examples of current phase shifts from classically conventional structures to increasingly simulacra-like playgrounds where previously mutually exclusive styles collide, invert, and create new, syncretic forms.
On Bruxism he emerges from an unfathomable void to pitch between pelting flashcore and chest-quaking, 100bpm reggaeton kicks alloyed by way of screechy noise flux, whereas Many takes a more warped route via a kiddy’s choir into a sloshing, rabid bout of dembow drums and salty noise that sounds like Russell Haswell mud-wrestling with Florentino, and his Onset comes hardest of all with a brutal display of possessed black metal howl and wretches pinned into place by railgunning snares and claps, eventually resolving to another dutty wine and obliterating outro that sounds unnervingly close to an actual murder on the ‘floor.
The remixers were clearly picked wisely, handing over Onset to J.G. Biberkopf for an hallucinatory, psychoacoustic rush of defibrillating bass pulse and mind-warping chromatic keen, before NAAFI’s Imaabs jettisons the beat almost entirely, leaving the same elements to scare the shit out of each other in a freezing cold anti-gravity chamber.
Strong stuff. Future sickness.