Blackhaine collaborator and conceptual artist, Richie Culver ruminates on the experience of moving home to Hull after life in the big shitty, for one of Superpang’s best yet
Only his 2nd musical release after ‘Did U Cum Yet / I’m Not Gonna Cum’ with Blackhaine in ’21, on ‘Post Traumatic Fantasy’ Culver regales the trials of restarting life in the strange British outpost of his hometown, Hull. Thru a mix of oblique and drily witted sound poetry and bittersweet tonal angularity that clearly resonates with aspects of work by Blackhaine as much as Mark Leckey or Teresa Winter, he imparts a gnawing sort of fever dream states that’s not lush or fanciful, but coldly reflective of coming to terms with the schisms of the UK’s big cities and the provinces left to austerity.
Starting out on the platform of King’s Cross, taking in a visit to a trap house, and ending in cinematic solo piano elegy, it’s a uniquely emotive and gripping work that’s largely shy of ee it’s grim up north sentimentality, and more abstract documentarian in its oblique perspective. From the starkly processed delivery of his dead-ass ‘Ull vowels in ‘Comfort Zone’ and warped articulation and uncanny computer music artefacts of ‘Goth Night at the Community Centre’, thru the unyielding trance arp vamps of ‘Together in Heaven, Dead’, to the sleep-paralysis thought process of ‘Witness Protection’ and its unexpectedly poignant piano closure in ‘Dream About Yourself’, the results are soberly compelling yet evoke a strangely detached headspace that we urge you to undergo.
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Blackhaine collaborator and conceptual artist, Richie Culver ruminates on the experience of moving home to Hull after life in the big shitty, for one of Superpang’s best yet
Only his 2nd musical release after ‘Did U Cum Yet / I’m Not Gonna Cum’ with Blackhaine in ’21, on ‘Post Traumatic Fantasy’ Culver regales the trials of restarting life in the strange British outpost of his hometown, Hull. Thru a mix of oblique and drily witted sound poetry and bittersweet tonal angularity that clearly resonates with aspects of work by Blackhaine as much as Mark Leckey or Teresa Winter, he imparts a gnawing sort of fever dream states that’s not lush or fanciful, but coldly reflective of coming to terms with the schisms of the UK’s big cities and the provinces left to austerity.
Starting out on the platform of King’s Cross, taking in a visit to a trap house, and ending in cinematic solo piano elegy, it’s a uniquely emotive and gripping work that’s largely shy of ee it’s grim up north sentimentality, and more abstract documentarian in its oblique perspective. From the starkly processed delivery of his dead-ass ‘Ull vowels in ‘Comfort Zone’ and warped articulation and uncanny computer music artefacts of ‘Goth Night at the Community Centre’, thru the unyielding trance arp vamps of ‘Together in Heaven, Dead’, to the sleep-paralysis thought process of ‘Witness Protection’ and its unexpectedly poignant piano closure in ‘Dream About Yourself’, the results are soberly compelling yet evoke a strangely detached headspace that we urge you to undergo.
Blackhaine collaborator and conceptual artist, Richie Culver ruminates on the experience of moving home to Hull after life in the big shitty, for one of Superpang’s best yet
Only his 2nd musical release after ‘Did U Cum Yet / I’m Not Gonna Cum’ with Blackhaine in ’21, on ‘Post Traumatic Fantasy’ Culver regales the trials of restarting life in the strange British outpost of his hometown, Hull. Thru a mix of oblique and drily witted sound poetry and bittersweet tonal angularity that clearly resonates with aspects of work by Blackhaine as much as Mark Leckey or Teresa Winter, he imparts a gnawing sort of fever dream states that’s not lush or fanciful, but coldly reflective of coming to terms with the schisms of the UK’s big cities and the provinces left to austerity.
Starting out on the platform of King’s Cross, taking in a visit to a trap house, and ending in cinematic solo piano elegy, it’s a uniquely emotive and gripping work that’s largely shy of ee it’s grim up north sentimentality, and more abstract documentarian in its oblique perspective. From the starkly processed delivery of his dead-ass ‘Ull vowels in ‘Comfort Zone’ and warped articulation and uncanny computer music artefacts of ‘Goth Night at the Community Centre’, thru the unyielding trance arp vamps of ‘Together in Heaven, Dead’, to the sleep-paralysis thought process of ‘Witness Protection’ and its unexpectedly poignant piano closure in ‘Dream About Yourself’, the results are soberly compelling yet evoke a strangely detached headspace that we urge you to undergo.
Blackhaine collaborator and conceptual artist, Richie Culver ruminates on the experience of moving home to Hull after life in the big shitty, for one of Superpang’s best yet
Only his 2nd musical release after ‘Did U Cum Yet / I’m Not Gonna Cum’ with Blackhaine in ’21, on ‘Post Traumatic Fantasy’ Culver regales the trials of restarting life in the strange British outpost of his hometown, Hull. Thru a mix of oblique and drily witted sound poetry and bittersweet tonal angularity that clearly resonates with aspects of work by Blackhaine as much as Mark Leckey or Teresa Winter, he imparts a gnawing sort of fever dream states that’s not lush or fanciful, but coldly reflective of coming to terms with the schisms of the UK’s big cities and the provinces left to austerity.
Starting out on the platform of King’s Cross, taking in a visit to a trap house, and ending in cinematic solo piano elegy, it’s a uniquely emotive and gripping work that’s largely shy of ee it’s grim up north sentimentality, and more abstract documentarian in its oblique perspective. From the starkly processed delivery of his dead-ass ‘Ull vowels in ‘Comfort Zone’ and warped articulation and uncanny computer music artefacts of ‘Goth Night at the Community Centre’, thru the unyielding trance arp vamps of ‘Together in Heaven, Dead’, to the sleep-paralysis thought process of ‘Witness Protection’ and its unexpectedly poignant piano closure in ‘Dream About Yourself’, the results are soberly compelling yet evoke a strangely detached headspace that we urge you to undergo.