Поиск:a sacred geometry

Hierarchy returns on A Sacred Geometry after more than 2 years, resuming the path of his previous EP. A rarefied approach leaves a clear footprint, delving into the layering process with ethereal modes and seamless perspectives.

Appearing on the latest Mnemosyne compilation, Hierarchy marks his debut EP on ASG providing a deep journey into rhythms and textures. Direct but still elusive, Matter/Space/Void delivers lapses of rarefied absence constantly driven by peculiar cadences. The pulsating and fragmented remix by label owner A Sacred Geometry showcases once again his diverse view of techno, constantly evolving into unexpected horizons.

Following the path of their previous works, ASG releases the fifth chapter of the series.

Focused on evolving and captivating textures, the EP continues to scuplt the rhythmic soundscape developed through their journey. Pulsating grooves melt into ethereal atmospheres, while organic percussive elements tear up the mesmeric state.

Chapter V marks once again the narrative developed by the label, approaching an unexplored edge.

180g
Repress

Supported by Deepbass, Svreca, Pris, A Sacred Geometry, Amandra, Etapp Kyle, Takaaki Itoh and Abstract Division to name a few.

The Hypnus clergy is proud to present the 6th solo record by Feral. 'Ultraviolet Radiation' throws us head first into a sound that's been brooding for a time and now finally started to blossom, revealing the massive potential of this gifted producer. Those who heard his contribution to our latest Various Adepts record or have managed to catch one of his mind-bending live performances will recognize his uniquely psychedelic deep techno sound.

Marked by an awakened sense of depth, Feral consistently carries a thread of spirituality throughout his work. Embodying the sound of deep techno through his passion for audio engineering, hardware experimentation and fascination for percussive instruments, as well as an affinity for the shamanic becomes apparent when we swirl in tribal timbres and rhythms.

Finding comfort in the solitude of his studio; the sounds of Feral unearth the path of his multidimensional world, transporting the listener to a haunting, yet grounding refuge within.

2025 Repress.

In honor of the June summer moon, 2017.

Early support from Alan Backdrop, Cio D'Or, Deepbass, Ness, Svreca, Mod21, Slam, Oscar Mulero, Patrick Siech, Refracted, TM404, A Sacred Geometry, Etapp Kyle, Exium, Iori, Jonas Kopp, Kwartz, Retina.IT, Takaaki Itoh, Eric Cloutier, Brando Lupi and Dasha Rush to name a few.

We presenting the upcoming Posthuman album "The Mind Is A Heavy Burden" coming out on Netherlands based imprint Flatlife Records. The full album arrives as a 9-track purple 12" vinyl and 13 track digital / streaming. This isn't the usual club-ready acid house to be expected from Posthuman of recent years, but instead a callback to their output in the early 2000s and their cassette releases on The Dark Outside. There's still plenty of their signature 303+808+101 sounds throughout but it's overall slower, more introspective and darker.

The compositions of Miłosz Kędra (b. 2001) explore synthetic sound, electroacoustic music, and self-built acoustic instruments, seeking diverse timbres, tunings, and textures. His main field of work is the pipe organ. Through minimalist motifs, he has transported the instrument’s sound beyond the church space by synthetically processing its tones. He is currently pursuing a Master’s degree in New Media Music at the Academy of Music in Poznań and recently completed a Bachelor’s degree in Electroacoustic Composition, during which he built his own pipe organ from scavenged pipes.

~ Liner notes ~

Miłosz Kędra - "their internal diapasons"

The pipes that Miłosz Kędra used to craft his own organ emulator have lived many lives. They come from churches scattered across Greater Poland—some trimmed for a more presentable façade, others left to gather dust in parish houses until, stripped of purpose, they were cast away. Their first voices have faded, their inner resonance unsettled, yet with patience, one can teach them to sound again—to sing in their altered state, to be gently coaxed out of silence.

Audiomancy—the conjuring of lost sounds—is the word that lingers when I try to grasp the lore crystallizing with Kędra’s second album.

The resolve with which the musician and composer has inhabited his self-built instrument recalls Witold Szalonek and his search for “unexploited properties of wind instruments in classical music.” Szalonek sought to map these hidden voices into a system of multiphonics, revealing over 160 on the oboe alone by 1968. Some sound eerily alike, yet emerge through distinct gestures—“a particular breath, a precise choreography of levers and apertures, the seamless fusion of the two.”

The splitting of a single note into its spectral fragments—allowing a melodic instrument to speak in two, three, even four voices at once—enabled Szalonek to bend the rigid structures of Western music. "their internal diapasons" follows a similar path: an aesthetic bypass through which Kędra taps into the sacred gravity of the church organ, only to reveal it as a domesticated echo of something far older—the primal theater of transformation. To listen closely to an instrument is to learn its flaws, to turn its imperfections into a new way of speaking.

Each of the nine compositions on "their Internal diapasons" is an invitation—to approach the material world with the intent of letting it speak beyond expectation. An instrument that is at once a sculpture, a performance, and a manifesto of voicing the discarded suggests that its creator—following the path of Didier Eribon (Returning to Reims)—might take as his motto, a principle of asceticism, Sartre’s words: “What matters is not what is made of us, but what we ourselves make of what is made of us.”

Filip Szałasek

Japanese artists Yumiko Morioka and Takashi Kokubo unite for Gaiaphilia, a journey through ambient soundscapes that seamlessly blends Morioka’s graceful piano compositions with Kokubo’s immersive field recordings and atmospheric synthesisers.

This collaboration brings together two of Japan’s most influential pioneers in ambient and new age music, each with decades of groundbreaking work. Morioka, celebrated for her 1987 album Resonance—reissued to critical acclaim by Métron Records—infuses her introspective playing with Kokubo’s vivid environmental textures, creating a dialogue between nature and melody.

After releasing Resonance, Morioka stepped away from music, moving to America to raise her family. For years, her work was quietly cherished by fans, only gaining wider recognition with its reissue in 2020. A devastating wildfire destroyed her California home seven years ago, prompting her return to Tokyo where she became a chocolatier before rediscovering her passion for the piano in recent years, playing live shows and making new recordings.

Takashi Kokubo’s legendary discography spans over 30 years, and has found wider acclaim in recent years via YouTube algorithms and bootleg uploads, wracking up tens of millions of plays. Yet he is probably best known for his sound design work, specifically the Japanese earthquake alert sound as well as credit card payment jingles - his creations are pervasive in Japanese society.

“From our love and concern for our planet, we both offer a unique sensibility and spirit of inquiry which we express through our music.”

Rooted in shared philosophical interests, Gaiaphilia reflects a profound reverence for nature’s resilience and harmony. Themes of Gaia, Mother Earth’s renewal, and the interconnectedness of life are central, with inspirations drawn from cosmology, sacred geometry, and Japan’s mystical Katakamuna tradition. The album invites listeners into a meditative space where sound mirrors the delicate balance of the natural world.

A master of sound design, Kokubo enhances this vision with his distinctive field recordings, captured using a self-made binaural microphone shaped like a crash test dummy’s head. From the jungles of Borneo to the gentle rhythm of ocean waves, Kokubo’s globe-spanning recordings transform into immersive soundscapes that perfectly complement Morioka’s introspective piano compositions.

“The title, Gaiaphilia, is a newly created word to encompass our love and respect for nature and life, this feeling is the theme we hoped to express.”

Released on Métron Records on 12/03/25 and with artwork from Ventral Is Golden, Gaiaphilia marks a remarkable new chapter for Morioka and Kokubo. Recorded at Kokubo’s log house studio named Studio Ion in Yamanashi, their collaboration offers listeners a deeply emotional and transcendent experience, rooted in the timeless beauty of Japan’s natural landscapes.

*Avant-garde Pop. Mixing meditation, sacred-geometry, searching for meaning behind the notes, Emika lost her mind trying to escape the reality of the lock-downs. Creativity in overdrive, determined to discover new dimensions: She produced VEGA. Named after the second brightest star after the Sun, VEGA is in the northern constellation of Lyra; one of the most beautiful sounding- instruments in Greek mythology. Vocals. Electronic. Classical. Collabs with Horace Andy (Massive Attack) +more.

Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur's court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word "Camelot" accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of "utopia." In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson's 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python's 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armored knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys's profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy's White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle's extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle's Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one's own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. "Back in Camelot," she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, "I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry." The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping "in the unfinished basement," an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above "sirens and desert deities." If she questions her own agency_whether she is "wishing stones were standing" or just "pissing in the wind"_it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of "multi-felt dimensions" both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of "Camelot," with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to "Some Friends," an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises_"bright and beaming verses" versus hot curses_which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020's achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory "Earthsong," bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to _ a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?) Those whom "Trust" accuses of treacherous oaths spit through "gilded and golden tooth"_cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry_sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in "Louis": "What's that dance / and can it be done? What's that song / and can it be sung?" Answering affirmatively are "Lucky #8," an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the "tidal pools of pain" and the "theory of collapse," and "Full Moon in Leo," which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and "big hair." But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle's confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on "Lucky #8," special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle's beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia's FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad "Blowing Kisses"_Pallett's crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX's The Bear_Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer_and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: "No words to fumble with / I'm not a beggar to language any longer." Such rare moments of speechlessness_"I'm so fucking honoured," she bluntly proclaims_suggest a state "only a god could come up with." (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world_including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth_but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the "charts and diagrams" of "Lucky #8," a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in "Full Moon in Leo," the bloody invocations of the organ-stained "Mary Miracle," and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with "Fractal Canyon"'s repeated, exalted insistence that she's "not alone here." But where is here? The word "utopia" itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek "eutopia," or "good-place"_the facet most remembered today_and "outopia," or "no-place," a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary. Or as fellow Canadian songwriter Neil Young once sang, "Everyone knows this is nowhere." "Can you see how I'd be tempted," Castle asks out of nowhere, held in the mystery, "to pretend I'm not alone and let the memory bend?"

. For Fans Of: The Weather Station, Weyes Blood, Adrianne Lenker, Phoebe Bridgers, Joan Shelley, Lana Del Rey, Cass McCombs, Angel Olsen & Neil Young. Camelot, the legendary seat of King Arthur’s court in Early Middle Ages Britain, was probably not a real place. A corruption of the name of a real Romano-Briton city, the word “Camelot” accumulated symbolic, mythic resonances over centuries, until achieving its present usage as a near-synonym of “utopia.” In the mid-20th century alone, Camelot inspired an explosion of representations and appropriations, among them the violent, affectless Arthurian court of Robert Bresson’s 1974 film Lancelot du Lac and the absurdist iteration of Monty Python’s 1975 Holy Grail, both of which feature armoured knights erupting into fountains of blood; the mystical Welsh world of novelist John Cowper Powys’s profoundly weird 1951 novel Porius, with its Roman cults, wizards and witches, and wanton giants; and the nationalist nostalgia of President John F. Kennedy’s White House. Unsurprisingly there are fewer Camelots in more recent memory. Camelot, Canadian songwriter Jennifer Castle’s extraordinary, moving 2024 chronicle of the artist in early middle age, charts a realer, more rooted, and more metaphorical place than the fabled Camelot of the Early Middle Ages (or its myriad depictions), but it too is a space more psychic than physical. In Castle’s Camelot, the fantastic interpenetrates the mundane, and the Grail, if there is one, distills everyday experience into art and art into faith, subliming terrestrial concerns into sublime celestial prayers to Mother Nature, and to the unfolding process of perfecting imperfection in one’s own nature. Co-produced by Jennifer and longtime collaborator Jeff McMurrich, her seventh record is at once her most monumental and unguarded to date, demonstrating a mastery of rendering her verse and melodies alike with crisply poignant economy. For all their pointedly plainspoken lyrical detail and exhilarating full-band musical flourishes, these songs sound inevitable, eternal as morning devotions. “Back in Camelot,” she sings on the lilting, vulnerable title track, “I really learned a lot / circles in the crops and / sky-high geometry.” The album opens with a candid admission of sleeping “in the unfinished basement,” an embarrassing joke that comes true. But the dreamer is redeemed by dreaming, setting sail in her airborne bed above “sirens and desert deities.” If she questions her own agency whether she is “wishing stones were standing” or just “pissing in the wind” it does not diminish the ineffable existential jolt of such signs and wonders. This abiding tension between belief and doubt, magic and pragmatism, self and other, sacred and profane, and even, arguably, paganism and monotheism, suffuses these ten songs, which limn an interior landscape shot through with sunstriped shadows of “multi-felt dimensions” both mystical and quotidian. The epic scale and transport of “Camelot,” with its swooning strings, gives way dramatically to “Some Friends,” an acoustic-guitar-and-vocals meditation in miniature on Janus-faced friends and the lunar and solar temperatures of their promises—“bright and beaming verses” versus hot curses which recalls her minimalist last album, 2020’s achingly intimate Monarch Season. (In a symmetrical sequencing gesture, the penultimate track, the incantatory “Earthsong,” bookends the central six with a similarly spare solo performance and coiled chord progression, this time an ambiguous appeal to … a wounded lover? a wounded saint? our wounded planet?). Those whom “Trust” accuses of treacherous oaths spit through “gilded and golden tooth” cynics, critics, hypocrites, gurus, scientists, doctors, lovers, government, the so-called entertainment industry sow uncertainty that can infect the artist, as in “Louis”: “What’s that dance / and can it be done? What’s that song / and can it be sung?” Answering affirmatively are “Lucky #8,” an irrepressible ode to dancing as a bulwark against the “tidal pools of pain” and the “theory of collapse,” and “Full Moon in Leo,” which finds the narrator dancing around the house with a broom, wearing nothing but her underwear and “big hair.” But the central question remains: who can we trust, and at what cost faith, in art or angels or otherwise? Castle’s confidence in her collaborators is the cornerstone of Camelot. Carl Didur (piano and keys), Evan Cartwright (drums and percussion), and steadfast sideman Mike Smith (bass) comprise a rhythm section of exquisite delicacy and depth. This fundamental trio anchors the airiness of regular backing vocalists Victoria Cheong and Isla Craig and frames the guitars of Castle, McMurrich, and Paul Mortimer (and on “Lucky #8,” special guest Cass McCombs). Reprising his decennial role on Castle’s beloved 2014 Pink City, Owen Pallett arranged the strings for Estonia’s FAMES Skopje Studio Orchestra. On the ravishing country-soul ballad “Blowing Kisses” Pallett’s crowning achievement here, which can be heard in its entirety in the penultimate episode of the third season of FX’s The Bear Jennifer contemplates time and presence, love and prayer and how songwriting and poetry both manifest and limit all four dimensions: “No words to fumble with / I’m not a beggar to language any longer.” Such rare moments of speechlessness “I’m so fucking honoured,” she bluntly proclaims suggest a state “only a god could come up with.” (If Camelot affirms Castle as one of the great song-poets of her generation, she is not immune to the despairing linguistic beggary that plagues all writers.) Camelot evinces a thoroughgoing faith not only in the natural world including human bodies, which can, miraculously, dance and swim and bleed and embrace and birth but also in our interpretations of and interventions in it: the “charts and diagrams” of “Lucky #8,” a daydreamt billboard on Fairfax Ave. in LA in “Full Moon in Leo,” the bloody invocations of the organ-stained “Mary Miracle,” and all manner of water worship, rivers in particular. (Notably, Jennifer has worked as a farmer and a doula.) The album ends with “Fractal Canyon”s repeated, exalted insistence that she’s “not alone here.” But where is here? The word “utopia” itself constitutes a pun, indicating in its ambiguous first syllable both the Greek “eutopia,” or “good-place” the facet most remembered today and “outopia,” or “no-place,” a negative, impossible geography of the mind. Utopia, like its metonym Camelot, is imaginary

"I wish I could turn or turn back" "Sometimes it’s hard to resist the feeling that there was a crucial turn in life out of which everything else flowed. Maybe in our more reasonable frames of mind we can dismiss that thought and take our plans and intentions very seriously. But, there’s often a lurking conviction that, like the oak from the acorn or the movie from its opening scene, it is already all there. In the first moment of Relics of Our Life, anything could happen, anything could come next. But as the suspense is broken with the first notes, the world of the record springs up as both an internal experience and a landscape of which we will learn something, but definitely not everything. The songs induce a swimming sense of cycling repetition and variation where shifting details tilt the ground under us. The round and round doesn’t make us dizzy; like breathing the right way, it makes us both heavier and higher. "Pawliczek’s songs can be located in the company of the greats of Flying Nun Records – maybe the delicacy of The Great Unwashed with the heavy heart of The Verlaines and smartness of The Chills. But, ultimately, his interests are elsewhere – a heart-break song over an earthly lover feels like only the tipping point for longing and devotion that outstrips the personal. In this sense, Popul Vuh for their hymnal geometry and switched-on Palestrina, and Terry Riley for cosmic elation come to mind. The songs have sweeping and cinematic proportions and depths of field constrained by a pop economy love of leanness. "But who’s supplicating whom here? The songs’ devotional quality is not upward to the sacred or even outward to the profane. It’s more like a magnetism between its elements – sounds, voices and rhythms. The track No Talk intones “why don’t you talk to me?” over a driving guitar and one feels visited by some kind of archaic god on whom the tables have been turned, finding himself jealous of our thousand little thoughts. The record finishes with his distorted lilting dance, trying to seduce us with some red red wine that is no one’s blood, but everyone’s favorite drug." -- Karina Gill (Cindy, Flowertown) 2024

Impressions cast from lyric and rhythm – desire in movement, now articulated and set forth. Meaning arises between attention and action. In darkness what is it?

Air is breath, like light through crystal; it’s truth and sacred geometry. A version like ancient stone - the sample shows in layers, solid time. Compressed life. Pages packed together and seen from the edge, razor sharp and two dimensional. We are the salt we become, our children and ancestors. All at once, being forever; a verse, then volume and tome.

But we slow, dragging like ploughs tilling clay. The physical is a language like memory – translated into real. Turn from backwards to parallel, watch it reduce; remember downstream. The rock, earth and salt, our real reconfigured.

Type peels away, turning to sand in the wash. Disordering disorder - now still. Translation becomes everything, set sequence and entropy. Whole, to node, to nothing, and all. Not new, just another.

Vector Trancer’s journey continues; re-emerging into the central stream, deep dub glows and woven polyrhythm conjure vital knowledge for protection and expression. Viridis Mantra and outer canopy steam, we’re brought tense rhythm experiments and biospheric reverb – see further excursions in atmos and shades from Touch, Fax, Geometrik, or Ed Handley on a dark one.

Exceptional recordings by this New age maestro. Only recently re-discovered by his friend JD emmanuel & the band Sun Araw. Originally released on cassette in 1983 and now for the first time vailable on 180g Vinyl. For fans of Joanna Brouk, JD Emmanuel and Pauline-Anna Strom.

Randall McClellan was a founding member of the electronic music studio at the Eastman School of Music in 1967 where he later received a Ph.D. in Composition, Theory and Musicology. A growing interest in North Indian music and vocal technique prompted him to develop his personal compositional practice into an active platform for inducing altered states of mind. He constructed his concerts to be spaces for harmonization of mind and body through a musical practice informed by his esoteric studies of ancient mystery schools and sacred geometry, believing these to be primarily teachings on intentional resonance.

These performances were given between 1977 and 1983 in semi-darkened spaces that allowed listeners to relax on carpeting while being enveloped by sound. Each improvisation lasts from twenty-five to forty-five minutes. An entire performance is up to three hours and is designed to provide an environment of meditative sound. They gained in popularity and were soon attended by larger audiences. His final live performance took place at New York City's Alternative Museum in October, 1983.

The “Music of Rana” Enviromental Series uses synthesizers, drone box, tamboura, voice and tape delay to create an environment of continuously evolving multi-layered melody. Described as subtle, graceful and of other worlds. The name RANA, meaning “Sunbreath”, has its origin in ancient philosophical concepts that recognized vibration as the fundamental creative force and central principle of the many esoteric mystery schools of the ancient world. It is now evident that the use of music for its ability to alter mind states and for its effectiveness as a therapeutic aid was music’s original purpose and an important concept of these mystery schools. In the broadest sense, the practice of music for its healing ability may well stand as our oldest continuous musical tradition.

This album is the first volume in the series, previously issued as a cassette in 1983, and part of the cassette box set published by Sun Ark in 2013. This music is based on principles outlined in Randall’s book, The Healing Forces of Music: History, Theory and Practice. These compositions are selected for their meditational and healing abilities. EQ settings of treble and bass levels determine the music's effect upon you. Please explore until the most comfortable settings are found.

FACT MAG: "These deeply meditative pieces are an expert take on how subtleties and concentrated listening go hand-in-hand. There is inherent beauty here, but it’s the deeper aspects that make the biggest impact."

Exceptional recordings by this New age maestro. Only recently re-discovered by his friend JD emmanuel & the band Sun Araw. Originally released on cassette in 1983 and now for the first time vailable on 180g Vinyl. For fans of Joanna Brouk, JD Emmanuel and Pauline-Anna Strom.

Randall McClellan was a founding member of the electronic music studio at the Eastman School of Music in 1967 where he later received a Ph.D. in Composition, Theory and Musicology. A growing interest in North Indian music and vocal technique prompted him to develop his personal compositional practice into an active platform for inducing altered states of mind. He constructed his concerts to be spaces for harmonization of mind and body through a musical practice informed by his esoteric studies of ancient mystery schools and sacred geometry, believing these to be primarily teachings on intentional resonance.

These performances were given between 1977 and 1983 in semi-darkened spaces that allowed listeners to relax on carpeting while being enveloped by sound. Each improvisation lasts from twenty-five to forty-five minutes. An entire performance is up to three hours and is designed to provide an environment of meditative sound. They gained in popularity and were soon attended by larger audiences. His final live performance took place at New York City's Alternative Museum in October, 1983.

The “Music of Rana” Enviromental Series uses synthesizers, drone box, tamboura, voice and tape delay to create an environment of continuously evolving multi-layered melody. Described as subtle, graceful and of other worlds. The name RANA, meaning “Sunbreath”, has its origin in ancient philosophical concepts that recognized vibration as the fundamental creative force and central principle of the many esoteric mystery schools of the ancient world. It is now evident that the use of music for its ability to alter mind states and for its effectiveness as a therapeutic aid was music’s original purpose and an important concept of these mystery schools. In the broadest sense, the practice of music for its healing ability may well stand as our oldest continuous musical tradition.

This album is the first volume in the series, previously issued as a cassette in 1983, and part of the cassette box set published by Sun Ark in 2013. This music is based on principles outlined in Randall’s book, The Healing Forces of Music: History, Theory and Practice. These compositions are selected for their meditational and healing abilities. EQ settings of treble and bass levels determine the music's effect upon you. Please explore until the most comfortable settings are found.

FACT MAG: "These deeply meditative pieces are an expert take on how subtleties and concentrated listening go hand-in-hand. There is inherent beauty here, but it’s the deeper aspects that make the biggest impact."

Repress!

Cutting edge innovators Rashad Becker and Mark Fell re-work material from Sote’s extraordinary ‘Parallel Persia’ album alongside a killer non-album track by Ata Ebtekar aka Sote himself. Highly recommended if yr into the complex tunings and arrhythmic geometry of Dariush Dolat-Shahi, Autechre, Xenakis...
Last year’s ‘Paralell Persia’ album took the trajectory of his preceding ‘Hardcore Sounds From Tehran’ (2016) and ‘Sacred Horror In Design’ (2017) to thrilling new heights for Diagonal. Turning traditional instrumental music inside-out with computers and modular synths, he arrived at a thrilling mix of sound that stood out as one of the year’s most original and striking releases.
Wrapped around the incendiary core of ‘Artificial Neutrality’ which features Pouya Damadi’s Tar and Arash Bolouri’s Santour sculpted into fiery folk futurism by Sote, the remixes by celebrated mastering engineer and improvising composer Rashad Becker and minimalist rhythmatist Mark Fell exert incredible new spins on Sote’s originals that remain faithful to the material in their inimitable styles.
Rashad Becker’s Dramatic Reenactment of ‘Pseudo Scholastic’ combs and curdles the original into 7 segmented minutes of squirming tones and melted rhythms that, through twists and turns, come to recall Korean classical court music and Florian Hecker as much as they recall the original.
Mark Fell, meanwhile, impresses with his quadruply extended 20 minute Parallel Yorkshire mutation of ‘Modality Transporter’, where he unravels its syncopated flex in endless permutations of laser-guided pulse drops, puckered strings and choral stabs that come to sound like Autechre letting off fireworks at a Dariush Dolat-Shahi show.

a 1. Pseudo Scholastic Dramatic Reenactment - Rashad Becker (06:59)

Parallel Yorkshire - Mark Fell (19:50)

For the first time, Len Faki decides to dish out a full foursome of his Deepspace-mixes, sharing one of the most profound entries into the series yet. Originally released within the last couple of years. The atmospheric and dubbed-out ’Biker Scene’ is one of riding blissfully under a sky illuminated by the milky way, followed by a streamlined update on the soaring metallic shuffle that is ’Depth Charge’, its tribal undertones prowling in the underbrush. The flip tucks NYC‘s Craft‘s wild synth work into a tight corset, channeling its lively energy even more effectively for the floor. Closing out with A Sacred Geometry, the Berlin/Rome-connection‘s finely plucked synths glide above elated pads and a skittering rhythm.

red & black marbled vinyl

Navigating between time and space, label head Foreign Material continues his historical journey with The Quest , a piece inspired by medieval legends.

Of Faith and Glory leads the way, an epic track which carries the knights' fervor and devotion through strong rhythmics and mystical eerie pads. American maestro Eric Cloutier provides a deep reverberating rework which brings us far underwater.

Of Flesh and Duty dives deeper into medieval madness with fierce rolling toms and hypnotic acid line. The track takes us along knights venturing deep into mysterious woods, accompanied by devastating celestial choirs into a glorious and deadly final. Deep techno craftsman A Sacred Geometry shares his vision with a strong remix that goes into battle frenzy with a powerful and mesmerizing reinterpretation.

At last, Of Fire and Fate (Digital Only Track) releases the rising tension and gives a relief after the storm with broken beats and shamanic vibes. This heroic conclusion underlines the impossibility of a far yet necessary goal leading only to death.

A bloody never-ending Quest...

The project named after his own label brand presents four cuts ranging from cosmic quantum nervous compulsion to introspection. Harmonious combination of complex percussive rhythms gives way to the already identifiable sonic universe of 30drop that turns into an effective formula at any club aimed at the forefront of the electronic dance music. Sacred geometry and style, concept and form, all to the service of the fundamental search. The roots are deep and horizon is vast. >Superconductivity EP< extends the scope of 30drop positioning on the edge of the sideral dance floor.

30drop deepens in the mystique of Sacred Geometry with its second release, Vortex Resonance EP. Based on the theoretical and intentional, but not formal, Techno foundational precepts, a deliberately contemporary stylistic overdevelopment is build. This time, we find four cuts that highlight the rhythm in view if the Space dance floor. Beating pulses are interwoven with cosmic atmospheres to travel beyond our planetary borders.