Mercurial enigma Cindytalk advances from decades of work with everyone from Cocteau Twins and This Mortal Coil to Robert Hampson and Ancient Methods with the bleakest invocation of their native Scottish wilderness for Richard Chartier’s Line imprint.
Admired as an artist who not only appeared on Cocteau Twins’ ‘Garlands’, but was also crucial to early hardcore techno as Bambule, and made a gorgeous cover of Ewan Pearson & Peggy Seeger’s ‘The First Time Ever…’, Cindytalk’s talents are hard to measure. ‘When the Moon is a Thread’ only complicates that matter by adding a dose of vicious, unheimlich, yet at times, lush, electronic noise to their personal mix with four pieces recorded 2013-2023 in Kobe, London, and Glasgow that speak to a life well travelled, but is also distinctly rooted in a sort of bittersweet, northerly romance that bleeds out and resounds in their music, no matter the style.
Their distinguished feel for tone resonates in the metallic timbres and widescreen plangency of ‘sleeping and dreaming’, which conversely approximates the sensation of sleep paralysis and suspension between worlds in its escalation to gnawing, wraithlike noise. ‘let love burn’ can be heard to characterise their sense of a tortured romance in its transition from guttural unease to distant pangs of speedcore blast beats, and the 14 minutes of ‘another year goes by’ full commits to hellish atonality before erupting 7 minutes in, into Charlemagne Palestine or Pita-like raptures. ‘in the middle of the night’ is the one for discerning dark ambient souls, moving at the speed of witching hour thought between what sounds like Harry Bertoia sculptures animated in subzero.
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Mercurial enigma Cindytalk advances from decades of work with everyone from Cocteau Twins and This Mortal Coil to Robert Hampson and Ancient Methods with the bleakest invocation of their native Scottish wilderness for Richard Chartier’s Line imprint.
Admired as an artist who not only appeared on Cocteau Twins’ ‘Garlands’, but was also crucial to early hardcore techno as Bambule, and made a gorgeous cover of Ewan Pearson & Peggy Seeger’s ‘The First Time Ever…’, Cindytalk’s talents are hard to measure. ‘When the Moon is a Thread’ only complicates that matter by adding a dose of vicious, unheimlich, yet at times, lush, electronic noise to their personal mix with four pieces recorded 2013-2023 in Kobe, London, and Glasgow that speak to a life well travelled, but is also distinctly rooted in a sort of bittersweet, northerly romance that bleeds out and resounds in their music, no matter the style.
Their distinguished feel for tone resonates in the metallic timbres and widescreen plangency of ‘sleeping and dreaming’, which conversely approximates the sensation of sleep paralysis and suspension between worlds in its escalation to gnawing, wraithlike noise. ‘let love burn’ can be heard to characterise their sense of a tortured romance in its transition from guttural unease to distant pangs of speedcore blast beats, and the 14 minutes of ‘another year goes by’ full commits to hellish atonality before erupting 7 minutes in, into Charlemagne Palestine or Pita-like raptures. ‘in the middle of the night’ is the one for discerning dark ambient souls, moving at the speed of witching hour thought between what sounds like Harry Bertoia sculptures animated in subzero.
Mercurial enigma Cindytalk advances from decades of work with everyone from Cocteau Twins and This Mortal Coil to Robert Hampson and Ancient Methods with the bleakest invocation of their native Scottish wilderness for Richard Chartier’s Line imprint.
Admired as an artist who not only appeared on Cocteau Twins’ ‘Garlands’, but was also crucial to early hardcore techno as Bambule, and made a gorgeous cover of Ewan Pearson & Peggy Seeger’s ‘The First Time Ever…’, Cindytalk’s talents are hard to measure. ‘When the Moon is a Thread’ only complicates that matter by adding a dose of vicious, unheimlich, yet at times, lush, electronic noise to their personal mix with four pieces recorded 2013-2023 in Kobe, London, and Glasgow that speak to a life well travelled, but is also distinctly rooted in a sort of bittersweet, northerly romance that bleeds out and resounds in their music, no matter the style.
Their distinguished feel for tone resonates in the metallic timbres and widescreen plangency of ‘sleeping and dreaming’, which conversely approximates the sensation of sleep paralysis and suspension between worlds in its escalation to gnawing, wraithlike noise. ‘let love burn’ can be heard to characterise their sense of a tortured romance in its transition from guttural unease to distant pangs of speedcore blast beats, and the 14 minutes of ‘another year goes by’ full commits to hellish atonality before erupting 7 minutes in, into Charlemagne Palestine or Pita-like raptures. ‘in the middle of the night’ is the one for discerning dark ambient souls, moving at the speed of witching hour thought between what sounds like Harry Bertoia sculptures animated in subzero.
Mercurial enigma Cindytalk advances from decades of work with everyone from Cocteau Twins and This Mortal Coil to Robert Hampson and Ancient Methods with the bleakest invocation of their native Scottish wilderness for Richard Chartier’s Line imprint.
Admired as an artist who not only appeared on Cocteau Twins’ ‘Garlands’, but was also crucial to early hardcore techno as Bambule, and made a gorgeous cover of Ewan Pearson & Peggy Seeger’s ‘The First Time Ever…’, Cindytalk’s talents are hard to measure. ‘When the Moon is a Thread’ only complicates that matter by adding a dose of vicious, unheimlich, yet at times, lush, electronic noise to their personal mix with four pieces recorded 2013-2023 in Kobe, London, and Glasgow that speak to a life well travelled, but is also distinctly rooted in a sort of bittersweet, northerly romance that bleeds out and resounds in their music, no matter the style.
Their distinguished feel for tone resonates in the metallic timbres and widescreen plangency of ‘sleeping and dreaming’, which conversely approximates the sensation of sleep paralysis and suspension between worlds in its escalation to gnawing, wraithlike noise. ‘let love burn’ can be heard to characterise their sense of a tortured romance in its transition from guttural unease to distant pangs of speedcore blast beats, and the 14 minutes of ‘another year goes by’ full commits to hellish atonality before erupting 7 minutes in, into Charlemagne Palestine or Pita-like raptures. ‘in the middle of the night’ is the one for discerning dark ambient souls, moving at the speed of witching hour thought between what sounds like Harry Bertoia sculptures animated in subzero.