Povl Povlsen

Genre: ELECTRONIC

Limited Edition CD

Boomkat Product Review:

The crankiest of a brilliant batch from Rio De Janeiro’s Liga Do Vento Divino label is Povl Povlsen’s stygian flow from rhythmic noise grind to hypnagogic carousel, via moments of dank enlightenment and gothic death rock croon - a real labyrinth of hallucinatory vibes RIYL Akira Umeda, Rex Ilusivii, Christian Love Forum.

Taking the biscuit as the oddest of an indomitably wyrd bunch delivered direct from source in Brazil, Povl Povlsen’s eponymous portal to parallel dimensions leaves us with a motion sickness of time travel or whatever it is astronauts experience when returning to terra firma. In two durational sides of encrypted collage Povlsen’s debut represents some of the label’s farthest reaches into a sort of cyberpunk noir and sci-fi horror fantasy sound, calling to mind Tetsuo Iron Man via James Ferraro’s ‘Citrac’ and ‘Hacker Track’ classics or, closer to the label’s home, Akira Umeda’s collaged tapestries for Lugar Alto.

Pushing up river into the imagination with a feel for noisy psychedelia gnarlier than the Aintel Euaholm and Global Loss CDs also in the same batch, but also very much sharing their taste for affective tones and wanderlust, Povlsen’s efforts feel more like an intense short story or febrile daynap in comparison. Atonal pianos hammer and synths claw from the shadows to introduce its self-titled first half, which only allows light to penetrate the murk after some 8 minutes of tension raising heck, and only then to slip back into the murk or an abandoned warehouse complex and secret level rooms.

The second half’s ‘Hansson Brothers’ marks an unexpected departure into thrumming death rock propelled by lizard-hipped licks and a distant croon, before passages rattling martial drums like something from Wold’s peerless ‘L.O.T.M.P.’ jump-cut and smudge with the anticipation-baiting quality of Akira Umeda’s tapestries in shearing black holes of noise attrition and nerve-flaying discord, persistently buckling and undermining expectations until its final turn toward the light in a very V/Vm-esque turn of phrasing.

Aye, it’s properly whacked/bezzzzonkked/wig-flip tackle from the margins. Freaks will know what to do with this one.

Limited Edition CD (2)