Suche:crossed wires

K S R introduces X, a brand-new series dedicated to various artist collaborations, presented exclusively as split EPs. The first release brings together Sev Dah and Decka, delivering stripped-down, fierce and powerful techno weapons.

Light Sounds Dark present 'Crossed Wires' an eponymous collection of music salvaged from a dusty cassette in the depths of the archives from the productions of an 80s psyche-experimentalist. Expect raw, unheard, previously unreleased music,. about as authentic as it gets.

On the release of his debut EP, aldn shares, “‘greenhouse’ represents my mind and thoughts. The individual songs represent the different plants within that greenhouse. Each song gets its own special attention and dedication just like a plant would. Everything on this EP was written and produced by me which makes them extremely personal to me, I’ve grown them all from a simple melody into what they are today. I want all of these songs to be put into your own interpretations to make them more personal to you.”

Through the interwoven storylines and soundscapes of greenhouse, aldn’s experimentation with a broadly sculptured experimental palette shares a snapshot into the worldbuilding he has created over the past two years, an honest representation of the thoughts you only feel comfortable sharing through the lens of your phone, and a therapeutic diary entry set to the dim lights of the corners of the club. As the world moved online in the past year, this new music became even more of a crucial component as a direct means of communication where crossed wires connect the dots more than ever.

Ware began as an experimental electronic duo back in the 1980s, when you had to know what you were doing. Comprising Sacha Galvagna, who went on to play with acts as diverse as Rosa Mota, Horsepower, Charles Atlas, Crown Estate, The Last King of England and Carta, and Andrew Wilson a producers’ producer, noise machine maker and DJ, who found underground acclaim for his Crossed Wires output, the band reconnected earlier this decade when they found themselves with some unexpected time on their hands. From across continents the pair took advantage of 21st century technology to resurrect a sketchpad of aural experimentation that would become the foundation of Star Catalogue, Ware’s long overdue long player set for release through Absent Music.

Setting out with the spectral cha-cha of title track Star Catalogue, Ware chart their passage through diaphanous arrangements that veer off mid-song into unexpected new spaces, melting into liminal vibrations that render large parts of the album as continuous pieces inherently connected by overtones and sentiment. Threading its gossamer sounds into a surprisingly unyielding whole, the album takes in the phantasmal glam of Nerve Agency, Sable Bay’s prismatic ache, the infinitesimal disquiet of Eigen State, and the nylon strung desire of New Model. As the pair impart the unhurried entreaties of The Splintered Woods, which gives way to the cabin fever of My Life as a Ghost and its switch up into ebullient arousal, the unexpected focus-pull of Frame, the shadowy elegy of Nepenthe, and the apparitional house of The Apprentice Pillar, Ware artfully draw the listener into a heady intimacy that is a striking contrast to the cookie cutter soul-bearing histrionics of modern pop music.

In an era in which the thrill of anticipation has been extinguished by the attention-free instant gratification of streaming’s ‘what you want when you want it’ model, Ware have delivered a piece of work that is greater than the sum of its exemplary parts. Painted in exquisitely fragile figures that lead inexorably onward through its 11 tracks, Star Catalogue won’t be so vulgar as to demand your attention, but it unquestionably deserves it.

Over the last two years, the Innate and We’re Going Deep labels – run by friends Owain K and Placid respectively – have become must-check imprints for those seeking brand-new, timeless-sounding electro, deep house, acid and techno. Now the pair are joining forces on a new collaborative venture that looks to the past for inspiration: InnDeep.

Focused on unearthing and showcasing slept-on gems from across the deep spectrum, the reissue-focused label will have an emphasis on UK producers and imprints whose work in the ‘90s and 2000s has arguably been criminally overlooked.

To kick things off, they’re taking a deep dive into the back catalogue of Headspace Recordings and Emoticon co-founder Tom Churchill, a Welsh producer whose trademark take on deep house achieved cult status in the late 1990s and early 2000s.

The Personal Interpretation EP was first released on Headspace way back in 1997, and dates back to a time when Tom was the very definition of a bedroom producer. He created the EP’s three tracks while still a teenager and mixed them down using the same pair of headphones he used for DJing.

Now painstakingly remastered, the EP sounds every bit as immersive and intergalactic as it did at the tail end of the last millennium. On the EP-opening title track, Churchill builds a sturdy, chunky groove out of clicking, hissing and metallic percussive elements and a wonderfully deep, tactile bassline, over which gorgeous chords, melodic motifs and eyes-closed vocal snippets stretch out as if reclining in the afternoon sun.

Churchill opts for a deeper, Detroit-influenced sound on ‘First Principles’, with undulating electronics and a raw analogue bassline working in unison with ghostly chords and deep space melodies, while ‘Crossed Wires’ is a tispy, off-kilter epic – all breathless drum machine rhythms, pots-and-pans percussion, woozy chords and weighty sub-bass. It provides a fittingly energetic, out-there end to a long-overlooked EP that remains as fresh now as it did back in 1997.

Klein's offbeat singular vision continues to defy classification. Her acclaimed, self-released records – Lagata, Only and CC – along with Tommy for Hyperdub and her theatre musical Care, have allowed glimpses into Klein's uniquely spirally perspective on vocal abstraction, disarming experimentalism and pop culture wonderment. Yet these chapters have also served as masks to conceal the artist's own personal crises of self-belief, misrepresentation and belonging.

An 18-month writing process led to her new album Lifetime. It's an unexpectedly literal body of work which Klein compares to "giving someone your diary." Lifetime embraces the inevitable cycles of existence, phasing through moments of brutality, vulnerability, estrangement and unexpected fortitude. Lifetime embraces the inevitable cycles of existence, phasing through moments of brutality, vulnerability, estrangement and unexpected fortitude. Every sound in Lifetime is intentional, every influence—from 'King of Gospel Music' composer James Cleveland, to early 18th century tonalities in the b side, the work of 'race film' pioneer Spencer Williams, the residue of the religious experience is deeply personal. The 12 songs of the album are pieced together like a puzzle; seamless transitions connect each of its compositions in a reverse chronology, while every chord from every song is echoed someplace else.

What's been hinted at in Klein's live performances is now realised in full for Lifetime. Less vocal work allows her to be even more expressive, and in eschewing a tendency towards brief, truncated sketches, each song serves as its own long conversational piece, committed to realities of a lived experience. The artist who once grappled with self-doubt has set about breaking the cycle of insecurity for others like her, while mindfully chipping away at the conventions of classical music.

Like its artwork, Lifetime addresses intersecting life cycles: the inner and outer selves, hypermodernity versus history, living nightmares and dream states, while seeking the light and darkness in both. Part 1 opens with unmistakable Klein flourishes on the title track. Gusty pads, anxious, frayed-edge static arcs, and craters of deep negative space, all of which melt down to the clean slate of "Claim It," which is a tribute to embracing one's own blessings. "Listen And See As They Take" and "Silent" form their own microcosm, as the sound of crackling kindling burns backwards into imposing structures of distorted strings and disembodied marching drums, before returning to heat and ash again. "For What Worth", in collaboration with sound artist and saxophonist Matana Roberts, explores the kinship between two artists whose shared exploration of lineage leads them both toward uncharacteristically sweet clarity.

Part 2 is further steeped in black expressive styles of the past. "Enough is enough" links the Lifetime narrative to the broader diasporic black experience, inhabiting every chamber of a harmonica with ghostly notes of the present and past, as fragmented gospel chords reflect spiritual bonds between self and the divine. "We Are Almost There" begins the journey with nothing but the looped structures of multitude of voices. The drums and dischord of "Never Will I Disobey" wordlessly create the conditions for "Honour," a near 10-minute composition where crossed boundaries and crossed wires are exposed in real time, and sharp expressions of hurtfulness, accountability and corrupted expectations are rendered beautiful in representational form, via sustained synth tones which hum, jab and flit in natural disharmony. The interlude "Camelot Is Coming" draws on the choir tradition to prelude the spoken word recounts the cycles of trauma and death that form "99." Lifetime closes with the dystopian swirl of "Protect My Blood" a composition which details an excruciating rift, before blooming into serenity as it draws to a close.

Klein's Lifetime is laid bare, from the end to the beginning, and cycled over again. From her place within her family, to their place within her, to viewing the fragility of culture through the lens of memory. It's a lifetime, an embodiment of young livelihood, and an end as much it is a beginning.

Swapping oscillators for guitar strings and synth filters for dusty amps this side project continues exploration of blues music through electronics. Originally started as an experiment in programming styles with a release on Bluecid a few years back, these songs continue the droning tones and a variety of tempos that fill the six tracks. All songs were played live on machines while being captured at the crossroads of crossed wires.

No guitars were harmed, held or harnessed in the creation of this electronic project following up the Bluecid 001 release a few years back.