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Spivak & Prins Emanuel - Imogen’s Lament

Three poems, three hymns, a lament…

Imogen’s Lament is the amalgamation of a slow-burning musical correspondence between Cypriot musician and lyricist Maria Spivak and Swedish composer and producer Emanuel Sundin, recorded over two years between Malmö and Limassol.

Imbued with a rectified balearic pop sentiment, these songs drift between myrrh-washed church pop and restrained machine dub—piercing through a veil of gothic haze as they trace the dimmer edges of an imagined Balto-Mediterranean continuum.

Commissioned and curated by Flora Yin Wong for her label and publishing house Doyenne, ‘Venus Rising From The Sea’ is a collection of love-themed cover versions featuring Teresa Winter, Susu Laroche, Alex Zhang Hungtai, aya, Maria Minerva, Christina Vantzou, Spivak, Salamanda, clare rousay, Wild Terrier Orchestra, Dania and Flora Yin Wong herself covering songs by The Cure, Robert Wyatt, Mariah Carey, The Cranberries, Pentangle, The Carter Family, Spiritualized, Debussy and more.

‘Venus Rising From The Sea’ takes its cues from the classical deity Aphrodite - whose name literally means “sea foam” - for an ever necessary expression of love in the modern age. The label asked friends and collaborators to interpret “love” in whichever way they saw fit, be it obsession, self-love, unrequited, unconditional, whatever. But despite the open brief, and the vastly different modes of execution, all the artists involved somehow ended up linking hands with a shared determination to smudge the original songs into bleary-eyed, uncanny traces of the originals.

To open, Pentangle's jaunty 'No Love is Sorrow' is puffed into stormy clouds by Teresa Winter, who retains the original’s unmistakable bass twang and teases Jacqui McShee's siren song into a saturated buzz of layered, obfuscated words. Verses twist into verses, lines into echoed-out lines, capturing the song’s boundless yearning, rather than tracing its exact contours. Next, Susu Laroche yields one of the set’s highlights on a brilliantly nuanced, highly impactful version of Nina Simone’s take on folk standard ‘Black is the Colour of My True Love’s Hair’, turning the original’s multi-faceted Appalachian/Scottish routes into a heart-stopping, Nico-esque fuzz we haven’t stopped playing for weeks. Christina Vantzou (the CV ov CV & JAB) is joined by pianist Ezra Fieremans in the absorbingly filmic scenes of ‘Hot Springs’, while Maria Spivak's interpretation of Robert Wyatt's 'Just as You Are' finds her singing Brazilian vocalist Mônica Vasconcelos' words with reverence, smearing them into a hypnagogic fantasy.

Flora Yin Wong takes an inconspicuous approach on her love-letter to Mariah Carey's 'The Roof (Back in Time)', itself a melodramatic interpolation of Mobb Deep's Herbie Hancock-sampling 'Shook Ones, Part II'. The unmistakable piano line is frayed into a granulated gurgle, fleshed out by gauzy cries; Mariah's ecstatic diva logic haunts the edges like a furtive glance, hanging beautifully behind Wong's dense soundscapes. Alex Zhang Hungtai's take on the 1927 standard 'Me and My Shadow' is even more atomised, reduced to a disembodied vocal that oozes around a clattering woodblock.

Always a standout, aya's tribute to The Cure's 'Lovesong' infuses the 1989 classic with the same self-investigatory charm she exhibited on 'im hole', slowing it down to a giddy, infatuated lurch, and replacing the guitars with eerily-tuned oscillations and drums with hollowed-out, electrically charged thuds. "I will always love you," she moans through a wall of static, like some lost “Pop Artificielle” addendum. The album’s biggest surprise is saved for last, however, a cover of The Cranberries' 'No Need To Argue' from Paralaxe Editions boss Dania Shihab. Already a poignant memory of a faded romance, Dania's version is even more glacial, her tender voice gusting over inverted guitars and looping, wordless moans, guiding us ever so gracefully into the nether-world.

‘Venus Rising From The Sea’ is a gooey, emotionally raw set of recollections and affirmations from some of the scene's most open-hearted operatives. In the end, the love that's most evident is the love each of the artists has for their source material, somehow binding loose threads into a rich tapestry that will leave you gasping, perhaps a little tearful too.

Extra Muros is an annual itinerant artistic residency initiated in 2017. The third edition was co-organised during the winter 2021-2022 by the FLEE art collective in collaboration with the Music Department of the Museum of Ethnography, Geneva (MEG). Five artists participated in this residency including: Prins Emanuel, Nabihah Iqbal, Jaakko Eino Kalevi, Cosmic Neman, and Maria Spivak.The residency was held at the MEG in two phases. The first part of the residency and encounter represented an opportunity for the artists to explore the museum’s archives, collections, and exhibition spaces. The second phase was dedicated to the composition and production of original musical content in an ephemeral studio set up in the auditorium of the Genevan institution.

In this context, the pieces presented in this album were all conceived during this residency. Having never worked together, the five artists and musicians, each with their own distinct musical path, discovered a variety of sound resources at the Museum. These included eleven traditional instruments from the African continent, Asia and Oceania from the MEG collections, as well as synthetisers, audio effects units, amplifiers and several other vintage emblematic analog electronic devices from the collection of the Swiss Museum and Center for Electronic Music Instruments (SMEM) in Fribourg. In addition, recordings of traditional music from the five continents belonging to the museum’s International Archive of Folk Music (IAFM) were also made available to the artists.

In pairs, the residency’s participants were able to combine their respective creative worlds with the museum’s historical instruments as well as sound archives. This compilation is the result of this rich dialogue.

Following up 2021’s compilation 'and felt like...', ' ...it wasn't really me' can be seen as the missing part of a diptych, only separated by the passage of time, yet whole in spirit. Again, a familiar company of singular artists showcase remarkable unity in diversity. Similar to its predecessor, a rustic gloom glues everything together into a seamless whole, enabling the collective to transcend each unique contributors' musical voice elegantly.ambient

Enter The Decagon assembles friends of the label - near and far - for further excursions into the abyss of industrial, folk, jazz and ambient music.

From Copenhagen hails Kristi Brud (Bride of Christ) extending us with a shimmering violin contemplation initially made for the short art film piece "The Abduction of Europa", absorbing a modal ambiance of harmonics rooted in central European renaissance. Recorded in Svalöv in rural Skåne comes a hillbilly folk jazz piece constructed by Joel and Ivar on equal parts violin, flute, upright bass and percussion, recorded somewhere in the misty era of of 2012-2015. Then, an interlude follows, reconstructed from the very early live sets of the label's own Inre Kretsen Grupp, laden with tuned metallic percussions and synthesized bow sounds. Following up, the idiosyncratic local talent Fai Ling offers a piece of Basinski/Hassel-esque horn repetitions in full deterioration. Concluding the A-side of the compilation is the band that never was - the only released material of Prins Emanuel and Golden Ivy's Börringe Kloster project - encapsulating their minimal maximal approach of low quality sound samples turned in to a wall of sound of rhythm of sorts.

The B-side picks up on different musings in the form of ambient cadence and carefully sculpted soundscapes signed Phillipp Otterbach, who gives us an unraveling journey into kalimba-hampered harmonies carried through a bed of industrial, synthesized sounds. Moonilena follows up with an eerie yet beautiful minimal composition of radio disturbances and repetitive, ear catching melodies.
Breaking the barrier of stillness, local producer and Catholic chant music fiend Digge Shim performs a rhytmical, tongue-in-cheek number that pulls widely from both the hymnal traditions of medieval Europe as well as the zonked out ambient trance sounds you'd meet in a mid nineties Goa chill-out room.
Near the tip of the decagon, we find the Cypriot producer, singer and lyricist Spivak presenting us with a feeling of the-familiar-but-never-heard in the form of an ambient pop breakbeat number with carefully crafted choirs oscillating on top - hauntingly beautiful and equally danceable.
Ending in the best of styles, well-mannered umarel and purveyor of drum-smitten metallic sounds shows us what Moisture is really about - the mental image of finding your true self dancing in purgatory in a never-released Kenneth Anger film set, encumbered with red lights and occult paraphernalia.

Not Waving renders his pop soul on a definitive album opus ‘How To Leave Your Body’, starcrossed with guest appearances by Jim O’Rourke, Jonnine Standish, Marie Davidson, Spivak and Mark
Lanegan
An escapist parable for the times, Alessio Natalizia marks a career high with his most sensitive production and songwriting illuminated by a coterie of notable collaborators. Its 11 songs deal with the necessity of friendship, the fragility of loss and spiritual transcendence via a spectrum of strategies that ultimately arrive at a mutual conclusion: love is the message. It packs sample amounts of nostalgia into a fantasy sequence of elegiac pop, skewed rave and midnight lullabies that fine-tune over 20 years of devotion to his craft, perfectly matching experimental restlessness with enduring pop appeal.
Perhaps unavoidably, circumstances had a hand in the creation of ‘How To Leave Your Body’, forcing Natalizia to work with collaborators remotely. Yet the strength of his bonds bleeds through in the album’s handful of poignant vocal pieces, none more so than the hushed intimacy of Marie Davidson on the bewitching downbeat trance hymn ‘Hold On’, but also in the bruised blush of ‘My Sway’ featuring Jonnine’s spine-tracing lilt over hovering organ and dembow bumps, while the hook-up with Mark Lanegan once again yields bittersweet fruit on ‘Last Time Leaving Home Part 2’, with gravelly blues vox diffused into detuned, miasmic cello that really tugs.
Effortless and made for rinsing, the whole album is testament to the humility and pathos of Natalizia’s oeuvre, which has gotten better with age. It plays out like a lovingly crafted mixtape, decanting all original material with a classic cadence and fleeting play of styles, from aerial jazz notes in ‘You Are Always Younger Than The Future’, to the gnawing club grind of ‘Define Normal’, a noisily gurning ‘Self-Portrait’, and the lushly resolved admittance of ‘My Best Is Good Enough.’
Comparisons don’t really work with this one, it’s just Not Waving.