The new album from Hysterical Love Project is a moody collection of guitar-shimmered downtempo odes. Lashed by the blue-hot debris of missing, it reverbs with adoration for those dear and far. It says I'm sorry for taking photos of sunsets, I couldn't wait to be alive.
Welcoming London-based artist House on the Strand to the Eastern Nurseries fold following his impressive 2024 debut, "Heroine", Ruben Elbrond-Palmer channels a sombre, cinematic sense of sound with "Unrest".
Interpolating the visual sensibilities of some of his favourite artists, filmmakers, and photographers into the sonic field, Elbrond-Palmer’s palette cuts loose from the percussive elements of his previous work, blending analogue synthesis with repurposed guitars, haunting melodies, and field recordings that call to mind the hazy delirium of a dusty summer’s day. Sitting at its core, "Unrest" places harmony front and centre, with each sombre movement rising and falling as electric fences hum, helicopters hover overhead, and unknown events are set in motion.
Deceptively simple, the resultant album is gestalt—an elegy of melancholic moments, lost to the world.
Mastered by Ike Zwanniken of Hysterical Love Project - mainstay mastering engineer behind majority of INDEX, Co:Clear & Theory Therapy Releases
Established in 2019, Eastern Nurseries is a platform for deeply emotional contemporary electronic music based between Porto and Newcastle upon Tyne. Curated by Rui P. Andrade (aka Canadian Rifles) and Christopher Macarthur Owen (aka Burning Pyre).
The label has released a steady yet considered magna of records from Hasfeldt, Emma Acs, innerinnerlife and VAs encompassing the likes of Conna Harraway, Severin Black & Slowfoam.
Eastern Nurseries no. 41
Written & produced by Ruben Elbrond-Palmer
Recorded in London, Kobaek & Aude, 2019-2024
Mastered by Ike Zwanikken
Cover photo by Andrew Weathers
Active for 40 years, Nurse with wound is one of the projects of Steven Stapleton, materialized in a very wide range of hysterical noise over sound collages and cut ups, abstract music, soothing drones and surreal sound paintings, and more rhythmical and mechanical pieces, always inspired by Dadaism and Futurism, Krautrock, jazz improvisation, surrealism, never losing his main goal, that is having fun and enjoying himself.He has had many collaborators, a recurrent one in the 80s and 90’s being Current 93’s David Tibet, another noticeable one still at work with him is Andrew Liles.The main line of this unpredictable sound builder is hectic and uncompromised, his point of view is that everything is possible and applies it to himself. As a youngster he wanted to be an artist so decided he was one . He is not a musician, and says he has no interest in becoming one. Surprisingly, (or not!), the love of his life is building sculptures out of recycled and reclaimed materials, building things with anything, even junk. And sounds, we are a witness to it.With these very strange juxtapositions of styles and manners, female rap music and 50s and 60s lounge music having a special top priority in Steven’s tastes, and a creativity that has no bounds no taboos, with a taste of novelty every time, Nurse with wound will no doubt continue to surprise people listening to his works, and himself, as he wants to keep it fresh every time, mostly for him.
“Featuring appearances from: Special Guest DJ, Ben Bondy, Hysterical Love Project and some other people we can't name for legal reasons"
The holographic swarm that is Downstairs People returns with their latest collection of subconscious songwriting. Simply titled ‘DSP’, Downstairs People’s sophomore album expands on their surreal horoscope of Top 40 musings, with nine works that explore the altered states of pop.
DSP reimagines the FM radio spectrum with distorted hooks, sour candy production and cascading vocal harmonies with no lyrics. Sung to us in an unknown language, it’s an archive of warped transmissions from beyond our solar system, conveniently recorded and presented as a flat, spinning monolith.
A brief history of having no time, and an ode to the subversive power of pop music.
New INDEX:Records transmission comes courtesy of Texan vibist Gi Gi. Trodding his own path of introspective, nu-age-infused ambient scapes and trip-hop-laced downtempo divagations, Gi Gi eases us in a distinctively soothing headspace. A self-driven, immersive audio bubble engineering a polychromatic mix of organic field-recording, exotic dub shades, lushly textured envelopes and smooth loungey jazz accents.
From the A1, “The Lower”, a steady-churning combo of retro-stepping UK dynamics, 90s-schooled atmospheric dub and low-slung, LA beat-style swagger, down to the verbed-out summer pop of “Sinews” featuring Hysterical Love Project, Gi Gi puts on a riveting synthesis of seemingly distant varietals.
On “Maiolica”, the mystique-imbued power of drums and shadowiness of the bass collides with the faux-organic vibrancy of singing robot birds; “Pyxis Glint” shows off an ambiguously feverish ASMR-like temper with its tightly woven web of chimey Andean melody and straight out Rephlex-fashioned escapism, whereas “Palm Slick” heads for further exhilarating heights through Hassellian brass flights a la “Blues Nile" and breaksy off-piste, all set at buckling a few knees along the way.
A full-fledged, soulful trip-hop number disguised in matching neo-vintage camo, “Lilted Song” treats us to a fulfilling blend of bleached pads and FX-laden slo-mo percussions swaying with a strong couldn’t-give-a-damn attitude. Gi Gi coming up with the mind trip.
After a crush at the Brussels World Fair in 1900, King Leopold II decided, for his own personal pleasure, to have the Japanese Tower and Japanese Gardens built. In order to create this little relocated Asian paradise, he had the wood, sculptures, paintings, ornaments, trees, workers, and their know-how imported. For a few years, he invited his entourage to enjoy it during large banquets and private receptions. He then had the idea of transforming the Japanese Tower into a luxury restaurant, but he died. This magnificent place remains closed to the public except during an annual opening.
"A Story of a Global Disease" is a short tale about artificial paradises of globalization, a melancholic walk through the exotic relics of free trade, where whim, appropriation, and appearances take precedence over otherness. Here, geishas eat chips, Europeans confuse Tokyo and Beijing, and tribal ceremonies begin with samples and drumkits.
These tracks have been initially recorded for the “ON THE GO” Beursschouwburg’s project in Oct. 2020. It has been originally and properly released on shiny pinky tape by the fantastic Bamboo Shows imprint and includes an unreleased track (Walk With Your Romance).
Naomie Klaus is a young artist from Marseille based in Brussels. In love with performance, constantly flirting with cinema and acting, Naomie seems to conceive her music as a big playground, a free zone of mischief in which she likes to experiment and interpret different identities, different characters. The result is funambulistic, a hybrid and synthetic form of a thousand influences that we can't really characterize: 90' Techno, loud Trip-hop, languid Pop, nonchalant Post-punk, dracular mass... Naomie Klaus doesn't know on which foot to dance and invites us to join a zone of in-between, has fun to plunge us in her strange tales for adults, where the princesses we meet are armed, hysterical, nymphos and badly dressed.
Following a B.F.E proposal to release on a limited vinyl edition, Teenage Menopause from France & Moli Del Tro from Brussels joined the project. Rude66 remastered these gems and Harrisson made the artwork.
Vessels promise an escape from responsibilities towards the landscape, they facilitate our avoidance of conscientiously feeling our attachment to the mainland. The visual nothingness of deep water and clean horizons fools the brain and delivers a treacherous feeling of independence.
We ignore the truths expressed by landscapes, so we mould them into urban projects for our strange desires. We clean up the irrationalities by which nature constructs itself. Then we look up to the skies, where the abstractions we have to draw in our minds should reside and inspire us.
We peer into the various shades of blue above the waters, the emptiness guarantees possibilities of our abstractions becoming realities. The apathetic stare into neat, straight horizons transforms our ancestral landscape into dirt and danger, when looking back to it.
To be on a ship under quarantine, is an upside down experience, for the promised escape has turned into a forced paralysis. The Lima flag (? - ? ?, in morse code), presented on the outer sleeve of this record, indirectly demands of all passengers to stay aboard and contemplate their escape from the land they now desire to return to.
These four piano pieces could be considered as a classical sonata (allegroadagio-scherzo-rondo). In a recital they are accompanied by four video pieces by artist Karl Van Welden. We picked the videos out of his extensive archive, choosing images intuitively while listening to the piano music. The theme of ships relating to quarantine thus came unannounced but of course, we were in the middle of the pandemic at the time.
Solastalgia was already waiting as a title for the new album before march 2020. I first came across the word in Underland, a book by Robert Macfarlane (2019). He defines the word as "The unhappiness of people whose landscapes are being transformed about them by forces beyond their control". These forces and this unhappiness are, I believe, what constitutes the modern human. Solastalgia, about the music We haven't found them yet, the words to talk to each other about the worrying signs of climate change. Feeling worried when walking on autumn leaves in the beginning of August should be completely normal. But how do we communicate about it? We don't want to be just the next hysterical doomer.
With this music I try to focus on the climate pain itself, gently inviting the listener to investigate their latent feelings of unease and growing concerns about the environment. As in real life, we circumvent the real issues because they are just too big, there are no words, no expressions yet.
This album tries, in four different attempts, to carve out a path towards communicating about a deeper pain that eventually will connect us all. My general method is to start with a comforting melody, full of fake nostalgia, which, after changing gear to autodestruct mode, morphs into a painful question mark.
The first part sets off with an idyllic melody, accompanied by repeated notes, as a far, muted echo of an alarm. The melody starts to explain itself painfully into a dissonant whirlwind in the high register, sounding not unlike Ravel's Gaspard de la Nuit bravura. In the second piece a warm Beatles like melody (And I love her) gets confronted with the weird hippie mantra of a later Lennon song War is over, if you want it. Sentences get reduced to syllables and result in lonely notes that crash and shiver under the burden of too much meaning. Like Shostakovich's latest work, the Sonata for viola and piano.
The descending melody of Bach's Erbarme dich, Mein Gott is echoed in the upper and lower voicings of the third piece, juxtaposed to a typical, threatening Ennio Morricone Western dotted rhythm accompaniment. This rhythm eventually evolves into citing the 1972 Captain Beefheart early ecological warning song Blabber and Smoke (there's a big pane/pain in your window, it's gonna hang you all,... dangle you all). Towards the middle of the piece, the music explodes and the three layers get dispersed all over the keyboard in a virtuosic maelstrom towards another painful question mark. The bitter answer is going back to business with a barely noticeable citation of the first notes of the RZA's Liquid Swords album.
The final piece is some kind of mantra, the same 7/4 pulse all throughout the piece. The dampers of all A's and B's on the keyboard are released by the middle pedal, thus sustaining an ever present resonance. Melodic cells alternate in shifting quantifications with small, bell like percussive cluster playing. While composing this piece an image crept up: walking out of the church on Sunday morning, tolling bells enthusiastically moderating the churchgoers' small talk in the local dialect. Apparently I have tried to evoke this kind of conversation, but injecting it with fictitious alarming conversation topics, the contemporary.
Frederik Croene (August '22)
Red Vinyl
nown for her delicate compositions, soaked in dream-like surrealism, Icelandic musician Sóley has attracted a huge following since launching her solo career back in 2010. Her 2012 single ‘Pretty Face’ went on to generate an enormous amount of buzz, and quickly became a viral sensation. Now, with three solo LPs under her belt, Sóley is preparing to debut a completely new sound via the release of her new concept album, Mother Melancholia, on October 22nd.
Described by the artist as "Nosferatu meets Thelma and Louise in a vampire church under the watchful eye of David Lynch", Mother Melancholia is the soundtrack to the end of the world as we know it. As a self-confessed news addict, Sóley became obsessed with the idea that the world is ending. Having surrounded herself with real-life stories of global warming and patriarchal politics she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was going to die. This feeling was so all encompassing that it sparked the idea for a new project. Could there be a soundtrack for the last days of humans on earth? How would that sound?
“I read books about possible dystopian worlds and started writing poems about irrational and in love characters who live in gray and cold imaginary loneliness. In each other’s burning arms. Walking in circles with no way out” she explains. “After all, the album reflects our life here and now. Our life and reality is a kind of dystopian world.”
Whilst writing the album, which serves as a tongue-in-cheek eulogy to our planet, Sóley began reading about ecofeminism, a branch of feminism which uses the concept of gender to analyse the relationship between humans and the natural world. Ecofeminism emphasizes that both women and nature must be respected but also separated. Since the beginning of time, the natural world has been synonymous with female identity, phrases like Mother Nature are commonplace. “The patriarchy views women as volatile and hysterical. Earth and women are either our saviours or our destroyers,” explains Sóley. “It’s so easy to abuse the earth, like the patriarchy has abused women since the dawn of time, then ask for forgiveness afterwards and promise they´ll never do it again”.
The new album sees Sóley move away from the indie-pop of her previous releases. She began by experimenting with writing songs on the accordion, allowing her a new sense of freedom in her writing. The process allowed her to broaden her horizons even further and experiment with a whole range of new and exciting sounds. “I bought myself a theremin as I was really excited about the unpitched sound and there is no perfect pitch during the end of days,” she laughs. “I also bought a mellotron, my first moog and a cello and taught myself how to play each of them. All of these new instruments are particularly suitable for the kinds of aesthetic inconveniences which I have learned to embrace.”
Album opener ‘Sunrise Skulls’, one of the most cinematic moments on the album, was inspired by the Me Too and SlutWalk movements and tells the story of a group of women who rise up and fight the patriarchy. ‘Blows Up’, a track that would be at home on any horror soundtrack, is a sarcastic love letter from the Earth to humans. Standout track ‘Desert’ is an incredibly moving song dedicated to the next generation. “It’s about the guilt you feel, as a mother, for having children and leaving them on the frontline. My daughter, for example, will take over this inevitable war” explains Sóley.
In true soundtrack style, the album flows through the end of the world in chronological order, closing with the Earth’s final moments. ‘Sundown’ is a dark piano ballad detailing human kind’s final day on Earth. “And everyday, I dig my own grave, and as I dive in you´ll hold my hand” she sings, over twinkling piano and swirling synths. We then hear the world end on ‘XXX’, a dark and swirling soundscape that swells before fading to silence. On ‘Elegía’ the silence then turns to the sound of the ocean, as we hear the Earth, like a woman finally free from a violent relationship, healing on her own.
Mother Melancholia is the mark of an artist confidently striding into more experimental territory. With a lengthy and successful career behind her, Sóley felt compelled to try something new and express the real her. The music might be shrouded in darkness but it’s a move that fills her with joy and freedom. “I hope that people not only enjoy the new sound, but also that Mother Melancholia might raise some questions in people, particularly women,” she says. “I’m under no illusions that this album will change the world but I hope that people can connect with the idea”.
