respite ∞ levity for the nameless ghost in crisis
With help from Lyra Pramuk, Matmos, Baths, Gatekeeper's Aaron David Ross, Ben Babbitt, Cecile Believe and others, Self inventories the chaos on their third album, singing over brittle 2-step, jerky electro-pop, minimalist ambience and overdriven techno.
There's a lot going on here; since releasing 'Siblings' in 2018 and following it with 'Orphans' in 2019, Self went into a self-imposed exile, spending time refreshing their musical interests and reconnecting with the community. And after being asked to compose a response to Beethoven's 'Missa Solmenis' for the Berlin State Choir, a re-awakened bitterness towards Catholic mass (and its use of church Latin) prompted Self to explore Polari, an English slang form that's been used by performers and within the queer community for hundreds of years - it's where we get words like "naff" and "zhoosh". This helped provide a conceptual backdrop for 'respite...', which is Self's most honest and most audacious album yet.
On 'respite for the tulpamancer', they manage to divert an '80s smoove groove with ASMR lip smacks and sacred chorals and nothing sounds out of place. And on 'gajo', they apply their wide vocal range to an R&G banger, cooing operatically before folding in the expected acoustic guitar riffs and chipmunked voices. It only gets weirder from here: there's the nervous, PC Music-esque 'Doll Park Doll Park'; 'Dissimulato', that sounds as if it's been snipped from a cult '80s horror score; the Drexciyan electro banger 'Busy walks into The Memory Palace'; and 'riddlecraft', a Philip Glass-style minimalist experiment. Still, nothing prepares us for the epic closer '∞', an operatic collage of aggressively angled pneumatic club ruptures and baroque ambience.
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With help from Lyra Pramuk, Matmos, Baths, Gatekeeper's Aaron David Ross, Ben Babbitt, Cecile Believe and others, Self inventories the chaos on their third album, singing over brittle 2-step, jerky electro-pop, minimalist ambience and overdriven techno.
There's a lot going on here; since releasing 'Siblings' in 2018 and following it with 'Orphans' in 2019, Self went into a self-imposed exile, spending time refreshing their musical interests and reconnecting with the community. And after being asked to compose a response to Beethoven's 'Missa Solmenis' for the Berlin State Choir, a re-awakened bitterness towards Catholic mass (and its use of church Latin) prompted Self to explore Polari, an English slang form that's been used by performers and within the queer community for hundreds of years - it's where we get words like "naff" and "zhoosh". This helped provide a conceptual backdrop for 'respite...', which is Self's most honest and most audacious album yet.
On 'respite for the tulpamancer', they manage to divert an '80s smoove groove with ASMR lip smacks and sacred chorals and nothing sounds out of place. And on 'gajo', they apply their wide vocal range to an R&G banger, cooing operatically before folding in the expected acoustic guitar riffs and chipmunked voices. It only gets weirder from here: there's the nervous, PC Music-esque 'Doll Park Doll Park'; 'Dissimulato', that sounds as if it's been snipped from a cult '80s horror score; the Drexciyan electro banger 'Busy walks into The Memory Palace'; and 'riddlecraft', a Philip Glass-style minimalist experiment. Still, nothing prepares us for the epic closer '∞', an operatic collage of aggressively angled pneumatic club ruptures and baroque ambience.
With help from Lyra Pramuk, Matmos, Baths, Gatekeeper's Aaron David Ross, Ben Babbitt, Cecile Believe and others, Self inventories the chaos on their third album, singing over brittle 2-step, jerky electro-pop, minimalist ambience and overdriven techno.
There's a lot going on here; since releasing 'Siblings' in 2018 and following it with 'Orphans' in 2019, Self went into a self-imposed exile, spending time refreshing their musical interests and reconnecting with the community. And after being asked to compose a response to Beethoven's 'Missa Solmenis' for the Berlin State Choir, a re-awakened bitterness towards Catholic mass (and its use of church Latin) prompted Self to explore Polari, an English slang form that's been used by performers and within the queer community for hundreds of years - it's where we get words like "naff" and "zhoosh". This helped provide a conceptual backdrop for 'respite...', which is Self's most honest and most audacious album yet.
On 'respite for the tulpamancer', they manage to divert an '80s smoove groove with ASMR lip smacks and sacred chorals and nothing sounds out of place. And on 'gajo', they apply their wide vocal range to an R&G banger, cooing operatically before folding in the expected acoustic guitar riffs and chipmunked voices. It only gets weirder from here: there's the nervous, PC Music-esque 'Doll Park Doll Park'; 'Dissimulato', that sounds as if it's been snipped from a cult '80s horror score; the Drexciyan electro banger 'Busy walks into The Memory Palace'; and 'riddlecraft', a Philip Glass-style minimalist experiment. Still, nothing prepares us for the epic closer '∞', an operatic collage of aggressively angled pneumatic club ruptures and baroque ambience.
With help from Lyra Pramuk, Matmos, Baths, Gatekeeper's Aaron David Ross, Ben Babbitt, Cecile Believe and others, Self inventories the chaos on their third album, singing over brittle 2-step, jerky electro-pop, minimalist ambience and overdriven techno.
There's a lot going on here; since releasing 'Siblings' in 2018 and following it with 'Orphans' in 2019, Self went into a self-imposed exile, spending time refreshing their musical interests and reconnecting with the community. And after being asked to compose a response to Beethoven's 'Missa Solmenis' for the Berlin State Choir, a re-awakened bitterness towards Catholic mass (and its use of church Latin) prompted Self to explore Polari, an English slang form that's been used by performers and within the queer community for hundreds of years - it's where we get words like "naff" and "zhoosh". This helped provide a conceptual backdrop for 'respite...', which is Self's most honest and most audacious album yet.
On 'respite for the tulpamancer', they manage to divert an '80s smoove groove with ASMR lip smacks and sacred chorals and nothing sounds out of place. And on 'gajo', they apply their wide vocal range to an R&G banger, cooing operatically before folding in the expected acoustic guitar riffs and chipmunked voices. It only gets weirder from here: there's the nervous, PC Music-esque 'Doll Park Doll Park'; 'Dissimulato', that sounds as if it's been snipped from a cult '80s horror score; the Drexciyan electro banger 'Busy walks into The Memory Palace'; and 'riddlecraft', a Philip Glass-style minimalist experiment. Still, nothing prepares us for the epic closer '∞', an operatic collage of aggressively angled pneumatic club ruptures and baroque ambience.
Estimated Release Date: 21 February 2025
Please note that shipping dates for pre-orders are estimated and are subject to change
With help from Lyra Pramuk, Matmos, Baths, Gatekeeper's Aaron David Ross, Ben Babbitt, Cecile Believe and others, Self inventories the chaos on their third album, singing over brittle 2-step, jerky electro-pop, minimalist ambience and overdriven techno.
There's a lot going on here; since releasing 'Siblings' in 2018 and following it with 'Orphans' in 2019, Self went into a self-imposed exile, spending time refreshing their musical interests and reconnecting with the community. And after being asked to compose a response to Beethoven's 'Missa Solmenis' for the Berlin State Choir, a re-awakened bitterness towards Catholic mass (and its use of church Latin) prompted Self to explore Polari, an English slang form that's been used by performers and within the queer community for hundreds of years - it's where we get words like "naff" and "zhoosh". This helped provide a conceptual backdrop for 'respite...', which is Self's most honest and most audacious album yet.
On 'respite for the tulpamancer', they manage to divert an '80s smoove groove with ASMR lip smacks and sacred chorals and nothing sounds out of place. And on 'gajo', they apply their wide vocal range to an R&G banger, cooing operatically before folding in the expected acoustic guitar riffs and chipmunked voices. It only gets weirder from here: there's the nervous, PC Music-esque 'Doll Park Doll Park'; 'Dissimulato', that sounds as if it's been snipped from a cult '80s horror score; the Drexciyan electro banger 'Busy walks into The Memory Palace'; and 'riddlecraft', a Philip Glass-style minimalist experiment. Still, nothing prepares us for the epic closer '∞', an operatic collage of aggressively angled pneumatic club ruptures and baroque ambience.