The Portuguese post-classical explorers weld atmospheric overdriven textures to icy piano motifs on their latest collaboration, following releases on Room40 and Shhpuma.
Joana Gama and Luís Fernandes have been collaborating now for almost a decade, and over that time they've been able to nurture a space where they're able to communicate clearly and openly. "There's no Knowing" developed after the duo found themselves with a bounty of material following work on a TV soundtrack, so the resulting record is struck through with a foreboding sense of tension. There's a mysterious crawl to the 10-minute opening track, that introduces Fernandes' subtle electronics slowly, letting Gama's Satie-esque minimalism sit in the frame for just long enough to unsettle the listeners.
When Fernandes allows his electronic elements to rupture the track's sense of calm, it's with dissonant squeals, and a bassline that captures a similar dramatic velocity as Ennio Morricone and John Carpenter's slithering soundtrack to "The Thing". The duo hit a creative peak with their third movement, letting the piano take a back seat for a second, experimenting with wildly phased + panned overdriven electronics.
Harnessing distortion with an even hand, the two artists touch on territory explored by Yellow Swans and Lorenzo Senni, but never fully collapse into power ambient froth, maintaining the dramatic backbone of the rest of the album. Analog squeals ring out like Vangelis, and the entire track cedes to a buzzing machine drone and distant piano echoes.
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The Portuguese post-classical explorers weld atmospheric overdriven textures to icy piano motifs on their latest collaboration, following releases on Room40 and Shhpuma.
Joana Gama and Luís Fernandes have been collaborating now for almost a decade, and over that time they've been able to nurture a space where they're able to communicate clearly and openly. "There's no Knowing" developed after the duo found themselves with a bounty of material following work on a TV soundtrack, so the resulting record is struck through with a foreboding sense of tension. There's a mysterious crawl to the 10-minute opening track, that introduces Fernandes' subtle electronics slowly, letting Gama's Satie-esque minimalism sit in the frame for just long enough to unsettle the listeners.
When Fernandes allows his electronic elements to rupture the track's sense of calm, it's with dissonant squeals, and a bassline that captures a similar dramatic velocity as Ennio Morricone and John Carpenter's slithering soundtrack to "The Thing". The duo hit a creative peak with their third movement, letting the piano take a back seat for a second, experimenting with wildly phased + panned overdriven electronics.
Harnessing distortion with an even hand, the two artists touch on territory explored by Yellow Swans and Lorenzo Senni, but never fully collapse into power ambient froth, maintaining the dramatic backbone of the rest of the album. Analog squeals ring out like Vangelis, and the entire track cedes to a buzzing machine drone and distant piano echoes.
The Portuguese post-classical explorers weld atmospheric overdriven textures to icy piano motifs on their latest collaboration, following releases on Room40 and Shhpuma.
Joana Gama and Luís Fernandes have been collaborating now for almost a decade, and over that time they've been able to nurture a space where they're able to communicate clearly and openly. "There's no Knowing" developed after the duo found themselves with a bounty of material following work on a TV soundtrack, so the resulting record is struck through with a foreboding sense of tension. There's a mysterious crawl to the 10-minute opening track, that introduces Fernandes' subtle electronics slowly, letting Gama's Satie-esque minimalism sit in the frame for just long enough to unsettle the listeners.
When Fernandes allows his electronic elements to rupture the track's sense of calm, it's with dissonant squeals, and a bassline that captures a similar dramatic velocity as Ennio Morricone and John Carpenter's slithering soundtrack to "The Thing". The duo hit a creative peak with their third movement, letting the piano take a back seat for a second, experimenting with wildly phased + panned overdriven electronics.
Harnessing distortion with an even hand, the two artists touch on territory explored by Yellow Swans and Lorenzo Senni, but never fully collapse into power ambient froth, maintaining the dramatic backbone of the rest of the album. Analog squeals ring out like Vangelis, and the entire track cedes to a buzzing machine drone and distant piano echoes.
The Portuguese post-classical explorers weld atmospheric overdriven textures to icy piano motifs on their latest collaboration, following releases on Room40 and Shhpuma.
Joana Gama and Luís Fernandes have been collaborating now for almost a decade, and over that time they've been able to nurture a space where they're able to communicate clearly and openly. "There's no Knowing" developed after the duo found themselves with a bounty of material following work on a TV soundtrack, so the resulting record is struck through with a foreboding sense of tension. There's a mysterious crawl to the 10-minute opening track, that introduces Fernandes' subtle electronics slowly, letting Gama's Satie-esque minimalism sit in the frame for just long enough to unsettle the listeners.
When Fernandes allows his electronic elements to rupture the track's sense of calm, it's with dissonant squeals, and a bassline that captures a similar dramatic velocity as Ennio Morricone and John Carpenter's slithering soundtrack to "The Thing". The duo hit a creative peak with their third movement, letting the piano take a back seat for a second, experimenting with wildly phased + panned overdriven electronics.
Harnessing distortion with an even hand, the two artists touch on territory explored by Yellow Swans and Lorenzo Senni, but never fully collapse into power ambient froth, maintaining the dramatic backbone of the rest of the album. Analog squeals ring out like Vangelis, and the entire track cedes to a buzzing machine drone and distant piano echoes.