UNKNOWN PRECEPT News

It’s about time that our partner in crime Lostsoundbytes joined us for a ride. Kept on the back burner for a while, the debut album by the Belgium-based producer and Vastechoses label honcho couldn’t have come out at a more convenient time. Keeping with the madness that we all have buried within ourselves, Degenerate Brain sounds like it’s been recorded and corrupted by some artificial intelligence in the grips of mental disorder and paranoia. Frantically exhibiting a wide stylistic palette by means of irradiated kicks laid out on top of distressed electronic modulations; worn out electro bangers and slo-mo keepsakes from imaginary performances to crooked minimal wave ramblings led by a man-machine flying off the handle. A seemingly meaningless stroll orchestrated by a mind that has lost control over some data dump coming in hot — which may fry your brain unless you manage to pull yourself out before it’s too late.

This is the first ever vinyl release of the now defunct Parisian formation None, whom have left very few traces of their recordings apart from a furtive tape appearance; keeping true to their name by favoring the intensity of their live performances to conventional sound fixations. Although only one single recording remained following the band’s dissolution back in 2019, the oddly titled Khneï Khneï Thnacapata Thnacapata is a compelling demonstration in self-restraint as well as one of the very few relics left to cherish of the short lived group. Arranged as a forty minute long movement, the posthumous album swallows us through free improvisation, jazz and post-punk in a composed mayhem that echoes their equally intense live conduct where steadfast drums and far out cassette manipulation meet head-on with troubled saxophone blows, lonesome crippled guitar action and unintelligible vocals in which to lose one’s mind.

Long overdue, here comes AIR LQD’s first full-length player, Repeat Itself, making up for the direct follow-up of his acclaimed vinyl debut released on the label in 2016. Mixing science fiction, social criticism and punk ethics in the most cryptic fashion, the latest entry in the discography of the taciturn Belgian groove-maker sees him pushing further his electronic experimentation. Delving into the meanders of the human consciousness through hazy and abrasive rituals, brainpowered by robotics, artificial intelligence and urban metamorphism. The weird looping echo of a man-machine drifting through a vortex of feral scratches and overworked machinery. Slowly moving towards the event horizon of a supermassive black hole, leading to unexpected aural aberrations full of hidden, past and new meanings. Giving a last disillusioned glance at our human condition facing technological progress and the toxicity of the outside world.

Long time kept in the pipelines, we are proud to welcome the discreet, although agitated newcomer Legion 808 conveying his debut vinyl release on the label. Composed while stuck in some kind of hallucinated trance, his mind and body cemented behind the four walls of his Parisian apartment, the Frenchman ultimately unleashes a scathing first entry into his discography. Taking the shape of a vicious six track mini-album, long brewed with ruthless humor, oozing fever and nervous breakdowns, 'Tombouctou Crisis' feels as vigorous as a slap in the face. Making up for some of the best industrial bedroom music we've heard as of late, he always manages to find his way back to the surface throughout the many layers of bizarre grooves and caustic humor, zealous snare attacks and strange nursery rhymes. Only to uncover a depressurized atmosphere of sorts; from which a strong smell of burned asphalt never gets off your clothes.

Techno Thriller joins the Unknown Precept fam with a brand new mini-album. The first following the release of their eponymous full-length album a couple of months ago. Based in Brussels, although now relocating themselves in Marseille, France, the four-handed formation has steadily been crafting cybernated Gothic music over the past years. Recorded a few months back while drawing its inspiration from dark dungeons and occult folklore, not without evocative titles, Enfant de Sodome feels as muscular and thrilling as their live performances usually imply. Compelling murky synthpunk and industrial machinery colliding in fervor and howls. Free falling tumultuous bass lines lacerated by ominous muffled groans. Bone-bending primitive techno music catapulted over the walls in the most urgent fashion. At the end, it very much feels like trying to dance on some sort of cryptic electronic body music in a heavy chain-mail.

Joining the Unknown Precept forces are C.G.I. Records' label head Matthew Wei- ner teaming up with Christopher Daresta as Pyramid Club. Being known for their T.W.I.N.S. and Anticipation solo activities, Cyclic Obsession comes as the debut re- lease of the four-handed formation taking its name from the eponymous venue which helped define the counterculture and queer sound of lower Manhattan in the late 70's. Recorded in their stronghold of Atlanta following a handful of tracks released via the jointly-operated D.K.A. Records, it shows the duo taking over primitive body music in its most physical and psychedelic dimension. Thick as a brick bass lines for the basement turmoil — reflecting the hazy vortex smoldering out of an ill-lighted nightclub. Think of spasmodic synth-driven tunes interspersed by convulsive vocals and throbbing snares, in which one could see the whites of the dancers' eyes right before the lights turn back on.

Miami ex-patriate Alexander Suàrez debuts on Unknown Precept with A Los Mártires. Conceived as an ode to those who spilt their blood in vane for political ideologies that failed them and countries that were never their homes, the five tracks that make up the release show the Brooklyn-based producer sinking into odd techno hybrids manipulation; shooting down unrestrained grooves and rusty samples while excavating lush sound exploration tinged by local folklore and grievous metallic tones. In his own words, Suárez discloses that the embodiment of this strange intermingling sound like an organic and humming invitation to an uninhibited meditation on our inevitable assimilation into modern industrial society; an overarching rhythmic theme built on the idea that the resistance to and the seduction of these systems might trap us in a push and pull limbo from which the only escape is rage or submission.