Cerca:machine emotion 0 is sacred

Selection of IKIGAI Album by Nadia Struiwigh. IKIGAI was born in the quiet space between grief and remembering... Made entirely on hardware, from my living room in Berlin near Hermannplatz (my dad's name is Herman -- the odds), in the months my father passed away. Every sound, every sequence, every texture carries his fingerprint. Not because he made music, but because he made me love gadgets. Circuits, signals, blinking lights. He was the man who opened me up to machines and taught me how, eventually, to listen to them and use them for my craft. The name IKIGAI, a Japanese word for ''reason for being,'' found me when I was at a crossroads. The kind where you ask yourself: Why am I still here? What am I still creating for? What part of me still believes in beauty when everything feels like it's falling apart? These pieces came through slowly, on Japanese gear like Yamaha SEQTRAK, KORG, Roland -- like threads weaving a tapestry I didn't know I was making. Each track is a kind of purge... to him, to myself, to the listeners who find themselves in the in-between. The space where you're not who you were, and not yet who you're becoming. I found myself back into soundscapes and Ambient with a touch of Electronica. I weaved in sounds I captured from daily life, memories -- like the laugh of my sister. I built in silence and let the machines cry for me and let them tell the story I couldn't find the words for. IKIGAI is spacious. It's not trying to impress anyone. It's trying to just be, and hold space for all kinds of emotions. It moves like memory... slow, sacred, shifting. This release needs to be close to home, and will be released on my own imprint Distorted Waves, on the day 11.11 -- which refers to my first album that my dad had hanging up in his shed. For my father. Nadia

Halo Studios und Laced Records haben sich zusammengetan, um die ikonische Musik der ursprünglichen Halo-Trilogie zum ersten Mal auf Vinyl zu veröffentlichen.

Diese Box enthält 83 Titel aus den ersten drei Halo-Alben, die speziell für Vinyl neu gemastert und auf acht heavyweight LPs gepresst wurden. Jeder Soundtrack befindet sich in einer breitrandige Außenhülle und einer bedruckten Innenhülle. Diese wiederum befinden sich in einer stabilen Sammlerbox aus Karton mit silbernem Laminatüberzug und geprägtem Halo-Logo.

Das Original-Cover-Artwork stammt von Art Director und Concept Artist Isaac Hannaford (alias Rhizus / Space Ship Guru), dem ehemaligen Lead Concept Artist und Mitwirkenden an Halo 3, Halo 3: ODST und Halo Reach. Das zusätzliche Artwork der Box wurde von der Grafikdesignerin Maren Landsnes erstellt.

Halo: Combat Evolved war der Inbegriff des Konsolen-Ego-Shooters und sein Soundtrack legte den Grundstein für den legendären Sound der Serie. Der Soundtrack ist von verschiedenen Genres inspiriert und kombiniert schwungvolle Orchesterklänge mit marschierenden Militär-Snares, Prog-Rock-Percussion und - wer könnte den gregorianischen Mönchsgesang vergessen?

Für Halo 2 taten sich die Komponisten mit hochkarätigen Musikern zusammen und verpassten dem Halo-Thema mit dem neuen „Mjolnir Mix“ ein Heavy-Metal-Makeover. Es war der erste Videospiel-Soundtrack, der es in die Billboard 200 schaffte.

Halo 3 zeichnete sich durch Tribal-Drums und Prog-Rock-Refrains aus, während Klaviermelodien, begleitet von einem 60-köpfigen Orchester und einem 24-stimmigen Chor, dem Soundtrack emotionale Tiefe verliehen.

- 83 Tracks aus Halo: Combat Evolved, Halo 2 und Halo 3
- Speziell für Vinyl neu gemastert
- Cover-Artwork von Isaac Hannaford (ehemaliger Lead Concept Artist, Bungie)

The more you recall a particular memory, the more it distorts and plays on your sense of narrative continuity. In this way, the vividly textured layers of Secret Recess – the debut Dauw LP from Luke Entelis aka Viul – comprise a sacred experience that leaves a unique emotional residue with each listen. Some pieces feature delicate melodies curling over themselves, while others offer gradually evolving loops underpinned by subtle guitar plucking, distant found sounds and obscured voices at half-speed. All are crafted meticulously with analogue sources and sifted through soft-edged tape processes that reward a dedicated headphone session, conjuring the solitary space promised in the album’s title.

From a home studio replete with analog synthesizers, guitars, effects and tape machines, Secret Recess emerged slowly across an era when most of us turned inward by necessity, drawing upon a library’s worth of sketches, recombinations and lightning strikes. Entelis also cites in particular a road trip to the national parks of the southwestern US that significantly informed the hazy, spacious atmospheres of the work that followed; by his account, “the desert wind was too intense for field recording,” but you can still feel it drifting across compositions like “Taurum” and “Eighties”. Such a union of urban huddle and open-sky expanse allows the album to take on new colours anywhere it’s heard.

Whether fully formed in one brief spell or developed over months of revisitation and refinement, each facet of the Viul catalogue conveys a rare, sweet melancholy pulled from thoughtful circuitry and the core artistic impulse to simply document the ephemeral – those moments in existence that you have to accept losing, but which replay endlessly once the day unravels.

“In the depths of the recording process I often feel simultaneously in touch with past and future versions of myself, which is strange, but good, I think.” (Viul)

Viul has been the primary project of Brooklyn’s Luke Entelis for nearly twenty years, but only in the last half-dozen has it come to fruition beyond the ears of friends and family. The albums Bright Decline (Disques d’Honoré, 2019) and Outside the Dream World (Past Inside the Present, 2019) beautifully justified this patient arc, and the collaboration Konec with Benoît Pioulard (A Strangely Isolated Place, 2022) entwined the two artists’ sensibilities into one of the most notable ambient/experimental collections of the year.

On December 6, 2024, Randomer will return with a new EP titled MTY-012: Everything Happens for No Reason, released via Anetha’s label, Mama Told Ya.

After a reflective hiatus, the UK prodigy is highly anticipated and ready to deliver meaningful music. The EP features five emotionally charged tracks—four produced by Randomer and one co-produced by Randomer and Anetha. Presented on a single vinyl, the release conveys a deeper message: life’s unpredictability can be embraced, reminding us that we can find our way even in chaos and randomness.

Torn between the meaningful and the meaningless, Randomer channeled his time into crafting music shaped by his extensive study of melodies, subconsciously

seeking to bring harmony to the world. The result is a cathartic journey across five tracks, each evoking a broad spectrum of emotions and inviting listeners to explore the depth of their feelings. Drawing from the music that deeply influenced him, Randomer traverses various genres and moods, seamlessly blending techno, trance, techstep, and sacred choral music in a perpetual act of personal reinvention.

Let the choir sing I Saw the World Melt (A1) right before my eyes, and let the people chant my melancholic melody. Nervous Breakdown. Lost in the riffs with dis ting from London, DHM Jam (A2) fuels me with adrenaline, I’m flying through memories, urged to move on. Yet, I’m still trapped : the clock shows Home Invasion (A3)—better start running. We will survive. But where’s my harmony? I Can’t Believe (B1) it. Why me? Why us? In this trance state of mind, I have so many questions, but those voices on the other side won’t answer. We’re doomed anyway, so why not plug in like the Two Perfect Machines (B2) we are, until the end.

For this new EP, Australian visual artist Nic Hamilton has been commissioned to create a poignant artwork alongside two melting teasers for MTY-012. As always, the design is expertly crafted by Diplomatie Studio, while the mastering is entrusted to Six Bit Deep, ensuring a polished and immersive listening experience.

It's been a decade since John Carpenter recorded the material that would become Lost Themes, his debut album of non-film music and the opening salvo in one of Hollywood's great second acts. Those vibrant, synth-driven songs, made in collaboration with his son Cody Carpenter and godson Daniel Davies, kickstarted a musical renaissance for the pioneering composer and director. In the years since, Carpenter, Carpenter, and Davies have released close to a dozen musical projects, including a growing library of studio albums and the scores for David Gordon Green's trilogy of Halloween reboots. With Lost Themes IV: Noir, they've struck gold again, this time mining the rich history of the film noir genre for inspiration. Since the first Lost Themes, John has referred to these compositions as "soundtracks for the movies in your mind." On the fourth installment in the series, those movies are noirs. Like the film genre they were influenced by, what makes these songs "noirish" is sometimes slippery and hard to define, and not merely reducible to a collection of tropes. The scores for the great American noir pictures were largely orchestral, while the Carpenters and Davies work off a sturdy synth-and-guitar backbone. The noir quality, then, is something you understand instinctively when you hear it, as in connected in an emotional way. The trio's free-flowing chemistry means Lost Themes IV: Noir runs like a well-oiled machine_the 1951 Jaguar XK120 Roadster from Kiss Me Deadly, perhaps, or the 1958 Plymouth Fury from John's own Christine. It's a chemistry that's helped power one of the most productive stretches of John's creative life, and Noir proves that it's nowhere near done yielding brilliant results.

It's been a decade since John Carpenter recorded the material that would become Lost Themes, his debut album of non-film music and the opening salvo in one of Hollywood's great second acts. Those vibrant, synth-driven songs, made in collaboration with his son Cody Carpenter and godson Daniel Davies, kickstarted a musical renaissance for the pioneering composer and director. In the years since, Carpenter, Carpenter, and Davies have released close to a dozen musical projects, including a growing library of studio albums and the scores for David Gordon Green's trilogy of Halloween reboots. With Lost Themes IV: Noir, they've struck gold again, this time mining the rich history of the film noir genre for inspiration. Since the first Lost Themes, John has referred to these compositions as "soundtracks for the movies in your mind." On the fourth installment in the series, those movies are noirs. Like the film genre they were influenced by, what makes these songs "noirish" is sometimes slippery and hard to define, and not merely reducible to a collection of tropes. The scores for the great American noir pictures were largely orchestral, while the Carpenters and Davies work off a sturdy synth-and-guitar backbone. The noir quality, then, is something you understand instinctively when you hear it, as in connected in an emotional way. The trio's free-flowing chemistry means Lost Themes IV: Noir runs like a well-oiled machine_the 1951 Jaguar XK120 Roadster from Kiss Me Deadly, perhaps, or the 1958 Plymouth Fury from John's own Christine. It's a chemistry that's helped power one of the most productive stretches of John's creative life, and Noir proves that it's nowhere near done yielding brilliant results.

It's been a decade since John Carpenter recorded the material that would become Lost Themes, his debut album of non-film music and the opening salvo in one of Hollywood's great second acts. Those vibrant, synth-driven songs, made in collaboration with his son Cody Carpenter and godson Daniel Davies, kickstarted a musical renaissance for the pioneering composer and director. In the years since, Carpenter, Carpenter, and Davies have released close to a dozen musical projects, including a growing library of studio albums and the scores for David Gordon Green's trilogy of Halloween reboots. With Lost Themes IV: Noir, they've struck gold again, this time mining the rich history of the film noir genre for inspiration. Since the first Lost Themes, John has referred to these compositions as "soundtracks for the movies in your mind." On the fourth installment in the series, those movies are noirs. Like the film genre they were influenced by, what makes these songs "noirish" is sometimes slippery and hard to define, and not merely reducible to a collection of tropes. The scores for the great American noir pictures were largely orchestral, while the Carpenters and Davies work off a sturdy synth-and-guitar backbone. The noir quality, then, is something you understand instinctively when you hear it, as in connected in an emotional way. The trio's free-flowing chemistry means Lost Themes IV: Noir runs like a well-oiled machine_the 1951 Jaguar XK120 Roadster from Kiss Me Deadly, perhaps, or the 1958 Plymouth Fury from John's own Christine. It's a chemistry that's helped power one of the most productive stretches of John's creative life, and Noir proves that it's nowhere near done yielding brilliant results.

It's been a decade since John Carpenter recorded the material that would become Lost Themes, his debut album of non-film music and the opening salvo in one of Hollywood's great second acts. Those vibrant, synth-driven songs, made in collaboration with his son Cody Carpenter and godson Daniel Davies, kickstarted a musical renaissance for the pioneering composer and director. In the years since, Carpenter, Carpenter, and Davies have released close to a dozen musical projects, including a growing library of studio albums and the scores for David Gordon Green's trilogy of Halloween reboots. With Lost Themes IV: Noir, they've struck gold again, this time mining the rich history of the film noir genre for inspiration. Since the first Lost Themes, John has referred to these compositions as "soundtracks for the movies in your mind." On the fourth installment in the series, those movies are noirs. Like the film genre they were influenced by, what makes these songs "noirish" is sometimes slippery and hard to define, and not merely reducible to a collection of tropes. The scores for the great American noir pictures were largely orchestral, while the Carpenters and Davies work off a sturdy synth-and-guitar backbone. The noir quality, then, is something you understand instinctively when you hear it, as in connected in an emotional way. The trio's free-flowing chemistry means Lost Themes IV: Noir runs like a well-oiled machine_the 1951 Jaguar XK120 Roadster from Kiss Me Deadly, perhaps, or the 1958 Plymouth Fury from John's own Christine. It's a chemistry that's helped power one of the most productive stretches of John's creative life, and Noir proves that it's nowhere near done yielding brilliant results.

The Body & Dis Fig are a natural pair. Each has pioneered instantly recognizable worlds of sound all their own that defy any traditional categorizations or boundaries. The Body, Lee Buford and Chip King, continually challenge any conventional conception of metal, collaborating with myriad artists and from the folk-leanings of their work with BIG|BRAVE to their groundbreaking work with the Assembly of Light Choir to the intensity of their collaborations with OAA or Thou. Dis Fig, aka Felicia Chen, pushes electronic music into dark extremes, from warped DJ sets to avant production, from being a member of Tianzhuo Chen’s performance-art series TRANCE to being the vocalist with The Bug. The Body and Dis Fig find kinship in reimagining what it means to make “heavy music”. Their debut Orchards of a Futile Heaven is the perfect synthesis of two forces, twisting melodicism and intoxicating rhythms, layering a dense miasma of distortion with intense beats and a soaring voice clawing its way towards absolution.

Orchards of a Futile Heaven’s walls of sputtering texture and tectonic booms are soaked in the reverence and melancholy of sacred spaces brought to life by palpable intensity by Chen’s voice. Crafted during a time of personal fragility, the album’s devastating force lies beyond any of the expected noise and abrasive textures typically associated with both The Body & Dis Fig. Suffused with a raw vulnerability and a longing for catharsis, Chen’s voice searches for escape in the midst of oppressive atmospheres as if determined to find relief from guilt. “Eternal Hours” patiently unfurls waves of surprising sounds, whispered undulations that are punctuated by sudden crashes, all beneath Chen’s haunting harmonies. “Dissent, Shame” evokes grief and shame with a minimalist drone dirge that gradually builds to an enchanting choral passage. King’s guitar on “Holy Lance” matches the uncanny drone of Chen’s accordion in an all-consuming blast, Chen’s voice transforming the moment from anguish to defiance and empowerment. The album’s arc finishes with “Coils of Kaa” acting as a kind of propulsive exorcism, breaking through a suffocating air before the funeral procession of “Back to the Water” lays the album to rest.

While sampling has long been essential to each, The Body & Dis Fig deftly meld their differing approaches to sampling and creating extreme sounds until the boundaries are entirely blurred. The two found kinship in their desire to find new avenues to make heavy music that looked beyond tropes of metal and electronic music by merging the two. “I always wanted the heavier stuff but I also didn’t really like heavier guitar music,” says Buford. “None of it really felt quite heavy enough to me. A human can’t be as heavy as a machine.” Chen counters, “I love the balance. You could never connect to just a machine as well as you could a human. Which is why the combination is so potent for me. I don’t want to hide. I think nothing connects you more empathetically than another human's voice.”

Orchards of a Futile Heaven affirms The Body & Dis Fig as skilled sound sculptors who have an exceptional ability to make deeply affecting music, bracing as it is touching, harrowing as it is awe-inspiring. Together, the two have harnessed their expansive artistry to make music that is profoundly emotional, and staggering in its beauty.

“Praying to god whether or not I believe there is one” - PH

Petra Hermanova and Unguarded announce In Death’s Eyes (UGD-009), the debut solo LP under the artist’s own name. This LP features nine tracks utilizing folk and sacred musical technique and instrumentation which drift between song and heavy distorted drones. In a disciplined display of beauty, pain, and astute musicianship, Hermanova brings forth a notable accomplishment of an album. In Death’s Eyes confronts death from start to finish with a rare fervor that leaves one feeling it was utterly necessary for Hermanova to produce - to survive. The transcendent impulse, or the influence of religious music, bears heavily on Hermanova’s compositions in her choir arrangements, but is most apparent in her use of pipe organ, opening the record on Black Glass. Having written organ parts for a significant portion of the record, she sought out the renowned organist Denny Wilke to record with her in the Merseburg Cathedral. Captivated by Wilke's profound skill as a player and knowledge of the Ladegast organ, Hermanova invited him to collaborate on Two Deaths where he delivers an impressive improvisation. While religious music offers spiritual solace from grief, folk speaks to the human and earthly as told by the individual, be they songs of suffering or joy, sin or salvation. To Hermanova, the clean promise of liturgical music is not enough to alleviate the blunt pain of grief. Contrasting the spiritual is the voice of the individual sufferer - the folk musician. For Hermanova, the autoharp embodies this contrast. The autoharp, a familiar sound in Appalachian folk music since its mass production in the late 1800’s, is an affordable instrument designed for the unskilled player. It is the antithesis of the organ which is costly, gargantuan, reserved for skilled players, and quite literally a part of the church. Through In Death’s Eyes the sounds of transcendence blend with the worldly, the tension between them poignantly expressing Hermanova’s struggle for spiritual resolution against the reality of death and loss. Like Hermanova’s lyrics, the artwork, conceptualized by Enes Güç and Evelyn Bencicova, is riddled with symbolism and allusion. We find Hermanova on the cover, digitally rendered. Reclining like an anatomical Venus, her vital organs are exposed, suggesting she is denied a transcendent death and is instead immaculately human. Bearing a sickle, her legs are metallic like armor, both symbols of protection. We see here in this image, as we hear in the nine tracks of IDE, the metaphoric state of someone ravaged by loss, choosing to tear herself open in an attempt to heal. - Reece Cox Petra Hermanova is a musician and visual artist based in Berlin. In 2018, Hermanova began working with the autoharp, which has since become the central pillar of her musical practice. Drawing inspiration from folk, medieval drone, and contemporary textural expressions, as well as Appalachian autoharp music, she creates emotionally driven arrangements accompanied by vocals. In her lyrics, she speaks to the fragility and tenderness of the human condition, religious conceptions of death, and introspective landscapes through narrative and symbolism. Hermanova debuted live at the Berliner Festspiele event The Sun Machine is Coming Down, performed at Trauma Bar und Kino accompanied with her choir, and recently took part in Sorour Darabi’s durational performance From the Throat to the Dawn. Her debut solo album, In Death’s Eyes, is set for release in 2023 on the art platform and label Unguarded. The album, where she wrote for the autoharp, pipe organ, solo voice and choir, features the acclaimed organist Denny Wilke playing the 19th century Ladegast organ of the Merseburg Cathedral. She has toured internationally with previous projects, including extensive sound and visual collaborations with Jon Eirik Boska (Hydropsyche) as well as with her award-winning band Fiordmoss. She was recently announced as a SHAPE+ platform artist.

The final part of the SchleiBen series brings the contrast of heavyweights for a special collaborative release featuring Colin Potter (Nurse With Wound), Alessio Natalizia (Walls/Not Waving) and Guido Zen (Brain Machine), backed up on the flp by a rising name, the (another) world ambience of Cass. Emotional Response completes the SchleiBen series, bringing together the legendary Colin Potter with two of Italy's best experimental / drone / industrial producers in Alessio Natalizia and Guido Zen for a one off special recording, plus again highlighting one last Dusseldorf affiiated project, with the Osnabruck based, beautiful ambient touches of producer Niklas Rehme-Schluter aka Cass. When the idea of the split series was born, one of the aims was to get producers who have worked with the label to come together and record special pieces. However, it was not until the fial release that this fially occurred and who better in which to do this. Having seen a number of reissues come out in the last 18 months - one of which on the distant relative label, Sacred Summits, Colin Potter has brought him in to the orbit of two
artists closely associated with Emotional Response in Mr Natalizia and Mr Zen. The assimilated Parts 1 and 2 provide a perfect marriage of methods. Percussion hinting at Industial and Techno is explored, while the constant Drone inflx and disintegration grab your attention, overlapping with rhythmic repetition deeper and deeper. To end is the ambience of Cass. Taken from the limited 'Hiding Place' cassette only album, the pieces here are the perfect completion. Found sounds, loops, piano, synthesis, all intertwine and overlap to bathe you in pause, a one last time call to stop and (un)listen.