Black Truffle is pleased to present Even Colder Spring, the latest release from the mysterious and wildly prolific Cities Aviv (a.k.a. Wilbert Gavin Mays, who also records as African-American Sound Recordings), a rare appearance from the artist outside his own D.O.T. Audio Arts label. For over a decade, Cities Aviv has twisted hip-hop conventions into the most skewed and splayed forms, layering and lacerating twitching loops, extreme production techniques and his mercurial vocal stylings into hermetic décollage. Across 16 tracks, Even Colder Spring charts Mays’ restlessly experimental approach: what sound like fully formed productions are interrupted suddenly after seconds; interjections of field recordings cue unexpected shifts; details drown under layers of fuzz. His vocal delivery takes in rhythmically intricate rap, barely articulate murmurs and freely melodic song, the latter often with a disorientating lack of connection to the track’s harmonies. The lyrical shifts are as paratactical as the musical movements. Apocalyptic visions of social and cultural uniformity alternate with reflections on mortality, glimpses of everyday life and head-scratching one-liners: ‘Maybe Mars is bougie?’ His reference points are as surprising as ever, the Dante quotes of previous releases joined here by a track named after Henri Bergson’s idea of the élan vital. Australian listeners, in particular, might be especially taken aback to hear ‘Closing Door’ open with the phrase ‘the tyranny of distance’.

While Mays’ work can sometimes be claustrophobically bleak, the productions here are often sparkling, at times touching on the shimmer of private-issue New Age sounds and the more playful end of krautrock. The instrumental ‘Martine Drift’ could almost be a snatch of Cluster’s Zuckerzeit caught through dial-up internet. The distant echoing drums of ‘L_area’ cross Persona’s Som with lo-fi IDM, while closer ‘Final Heaven’ dissolves a cloud of loops across almost seven minutes into ecstatic, rippling distortion. The graphic design, at the artist’s request closely modelled on the format of Corwood Industries, offers as good a clue as any to what awaits the listener on Even Colder Spring: a world at once impossibly opaque and intensely personal.