Cerca:architecture

Meteora - a chain of Greek-Byzantine monasteries was built around the 14th century on top of sandstone rock formations in the fading range of the Pindus Mountains, in the Thessalian lowlands of Greece At an over 600 meters high, some of them were only accessible by rope ladders or winches for hundreds of years. Makiko Hirabayashi learned of this place during a concert tour to Athens and was immediately captivated by its symbolic power: the isolated units which nevertheless exist in a larger context; fragile and floating, but at the same time firmly grounded. The opening title of the new, fifth album of her trio seems to have been perfectly chosen; "Warp", relating to the space above the early monasteries on the rock formations, as well as connecting the album to her previous release Weavers, in which much was woven with warp threads. A high-pitched bass, the subtle use of electronics, like everything else that follows, seem to emerge somehow from outer space. These are seemingly simple structures that only reveal themselves as complex architecture upon repeated listening - meditative and fleeting, but at the same time permanently carved into the rock. Minimalistic piano figures from which melodic fragments emerge, in their very clarity offer ample material for improvisation. With onomatopoeic percussion, an impressionistic and scenic painting is sketched in "Birds Ascending", whereas enthralling rhythms lead the way in "Chestnut Alley" or the sky-racing "Meteor". In between those, you find the improvised miniatures like "The Door" or "Slip", aspherical connections between worlds: imaginary doors, rope ladders or hinges. After the lockdown album Weavers, Makiko Hirabayashi is back in the piano trio setting with Klavs Hovman on bass and the legendary percussionist/ drummer Marilyn Mazur, reclaiming her space and time. Some of the material produced here has been part of their live repertoire for some years and gone through a maturing process, becoming an integral part of the whole album put together in the spirit of Meteora.

Marjaa: The Battle of the Hotels” is a concept album born of the idea of merging singer & songwriter Mayssa Jallad’s two vocations: music and urban research/architectural history. Written in collaboration with producer Fadi Tabbal, the music builds upon Tabbal’s spatial approach to sound and Jallad’s research on Beirut’s Hotel District. The album is a reference to Jallad’s Historic Preservation master's thesis, in which she detailed the history of the “Battle of the Hotels”, a 5-months battle that took place in Beirut at the beginning of the Lebanese Civil War, from October 22nd, 1975 to March 29th, 1976. Jallad saw architecture as a main protagonist of the battle, as she discovered it was the first high rise urban battle in the world. The close of the battle resulted in the 15-year Green Line, an urban rift which split Beirut into “East and West”, restricting movement and communication and creating a violent divide that still resonates today. The album comprises two parts. Part A: Dahaliz, is a stroll in the city, where Jallad tries (and fails) to follow an old map. Musician Youmna Saba is a companion in this journey of remembering the once winding corridors (“Dahaliz”) of the city, destroyed by new developments since the 1960s. Empty skyscrapers propel her onto a past filled with the violence of snipers, and a present filled with the glamorous injustice of empty luxury real estate endorsed by powerful warlords-turned-politicians. In Part B: Maaraka, Jallad inhabits the building of the Battle of the Hotels, as its events unfold. She calls the fighting militias the Blues and Reds, respectively the Lebanese Front (Christian Nationalists) and the Lebanese National Movement (Pro-Palestinian leftists), leveling the playing field, and drawing a map of the battle through songwriting. Sary Moussa produces the conclusion of the battle in “Holiday Inn (March 21 to 29)”, which ends with the ultimate severance of the city of Beirut. The music caters to post-war youth who have never been taught this difficult history. Once we consider the “Battle of the Hotels” as our common heritage, it provides an opportunity to teach the value of civil peace. It is also a call to protest for the renewal, rather than the recycling of the political class that has once destroyed the country and holds us, to this day, hostage of its violence. Limited edition of 300 copies. 140gsm vinyl pressed at Microforum (Canada).

The visionary French musician stays true, in this third compendium too, to his path of planetary asceticism. A new treasure chest of secrets reveals to us the same spirituality of total experimentation, by balancing the universe and the inner soul. In Taste The Fullness Of Life Ariel builds his symphonic pillars toward the cosmos, eternal architectures that always smell of Indian fragrances. The music always communicates a state of full grace, spreading balms of bliss. An unprecedented whispered narrating voice, evident especially in Spiritual Chanson D'Esprit, is embellished with textures of harmonic bells, tropical flutes, spacey harmoniums and drones of mystical light. In the recordings of Going Inward, also made on the occasion of a Tantric workshop, Kalma oscillates between tribal electronic dances, metalic almost industrial rhythms, but then always falls back in a comfort zone made of desert carpets of synths and baths of sound (gong/bells). Harmonica Galactica crowns interestellar dreams with unscrupulous drum-machine gears and pulsing saxes, superb use of VCS3 with arabesque and Schulzian overtones, and suave touches of fingerpicking guitar with freak vibes typical of psych-folk.

Bill Seaman is a musician, media artist and media researcher int the field of interactive and generative music (he calls this recombinant music). He has been working on a series of works that combine elements of ambient, noise, experimental, new classical and more. He describes these works as being alt.genre. He has recorded five solo albums (on Eilean Rec. and Fluid Audio) and a numerous of collaborative albums with some music artists such as Craig Tattersall, John Supko, Offthesky, Rutger Zuydervelt, Stephen Vitiello, between others. Seaman has also often created video works to accompany a number of his solo and collaborative pieces. Seaman is self-taught as a musician and composer, and is a Professor in the Music Department at Duke as well as Art, Arth History & Visual Studies.

Since releasing a track on the RND034873349921 compilation on the Pause_2 label in 2001, Tim Diagram has released over thirty-five albums as a solo artist or as part of collaboration projects. he has appeared on many well-respected labels, such as; False Industries, Static Caravan, Nomadic Kids Republic, Fluid Audio, Time Released Sound, Chemical Tapes – to name but a few. Tim runs the Handstitched* label in the UK which specialises in bespoke, handmade packaging for the more electro-acoustic and drone-like elements of his and other artists work, and he is involved in audio-visual commissions, including art gallery installations and music videos for a global clothing brand. As well as Maps and Diagrams, Tim also records music under the Atlantis name and works in collaboration with Genoveva Kachurkova as Bluhm, with Charles Sage as Hessien, alongside Rob Lyon as Somme & with Arbee under the name Emba.

Stephen Spera is a New York based artist working in sound, photography, and plastic arts. His works have been released on some labels such as Handstitched, Tesselate, and Editions Vaché. In 2020 he began a series of collaborations with Bill Seaman, as the two artists admired each other’s work and found much in common. Their work together was graced with an ease which kept them composing an album- “Architectures of Light” -which was released on Britain’s Handstitched label. The project was very well-received. The two stay in touch and kept working, joined now by Tim Martin whose work as Maps and Diagrams was long-admired by Stephen and Bill. They too found instant understanding of each other’s work, and “ The World was turning Before” is the result of their collaboration. The three artists possess an almost uncanny communication that enables them to work whilst still enjoying each other’s individual voice, and this trio has come together so well that, in Spera’s words, “We no longer know who played what…”

Named for the rewind mechanism on the reel to reel tape machine on which the band tracked the album, Auto Locator coils up the chemical trails of ribbon binding old places and head spaces to our consciousness. Static and hiss leach between analog track layers, blurring the normal and paranormal to remind us that no memory is totally separate from a fiction - just like no drum track is totally separate from bass.

Over Auto Locator's ten songs, Del Paxton rip shit like a band entering their second decade of existence. On-the-nose opener "Freight Train Metaphor" throws listeners face first into the band's first album since 2017, with a syncopated pulse and arpeggiating guitar foreshadowing a record replete with punkish, serpentine composition. "Up With a Twist," the album's lead track, deals in Del Paxton's crashing punk vibrance, through which the band explores and laments the uninspired architecture of American sprawl.

Second single "Chart Reader", whose origins trace back to a psychedelic dream inspired by Wayfaring Strangers: Cosmic American Music, sees the trio dabbling in emo Americana, even featuring a nod to John Denver's "Take Me Home, Country Roads." Such unashamed references abound throughout Auto Locator, which takes further inspiration from bands like Mock Orange, Third Eye Blind, and Jimmy Eat World, all of whose influence can be heard on "Palpitations" and third single "Spiritual Gymnastics."

The debut recording by Setting, a trio comprising Nathan Bowles (solo/trio, Pelt, Black Twig Pickers); Jaime Fennelly (Mind Over Mirrors, Peeesseye); and Joe Westerlund (solo, Califone, Sylvan Esso, Jake Xerxes Fussell). Deluxe LP edition features 140g black virgin vinyl and a reverse board jacket with art by Timothy Breen. Deluxe CD edition features a gatefold jacket with art by Timothy Breen. RIYL: Popol Vuh, Brian Eno’s Ambient 4, Harmonia, The Necks. Setting, befitting its name which can be read as noun or verb, and simultaneously suggests the sun, or any star in the firmament from our earthbound perspective; a story and its surroundings, its scenic context or mise en scène; or a psychedelic experience, as in the prescription to mind one’s “set and setting” arose outdoors, uncontained and unconstrained by architecture. The group’s debut recording Shone a Rainbow Light On traverses textural, phosphorescent topography with a certified organic folk-engine. Kosmische correspondences are inevitable and valid, but also somewhat deceptive, given this meditative music’s terrestrial rootedness in the familiar natural world, more in native humus and humidity than in outer space. Fuelled by a vibratory hybrid of acoustic and electronic instrumentation, these four stately longform pieces sound like a UFO slowly sinking into a peat bog (or, as we call it in North Carolina, a pocosin). An instrumental trio comprising Nathan Bowles (solo/trio, Pelt, Black Twig Pickers) on strings, keys, and percussion; Jaime Fennelly (Mind Over Mirrors, Peeesseye) on harmoniums, synthesizers, and piano zither; and Joe Westerlund (solo, Califone, Sylvan Esso, Jake Xerxes Fussell) on drums, percussion, and metallophones, Setting established its own setting and found its footing in regularly scheduled improvisational sessions outside Westerlund’s home in Durham, North Carolina, beginning in 2021. The three players began as two, in the context of occasional Bowles and Westerlund percussion duo performances dating back to 2018. Fennelly provided the initial impetus to gather and play together with intentionality and discipline, as well as an harmonic adhesive and thickening agent in the grain and gravity of his harmonium and synthesizer. As always, Bowles’s background as a pianist and drummer informs his approach to banjo, imparting a woodiness, a piney verticality and resinous tang. Westerlund’s training with Milford Graves is apparent in his polyrhythmic flow and its correspondences to human circulatory and corporeal rhythms. They recorded their collective discoveries with engineer Nick Broste in the spring of 2022.The record begins, like the group’s name, and like the language of its unique instrumental interplay, with ambiguous grammar: “We Center,” the first and longest track at thirteen and a half minutes, builds patiently to a percolating climax of tidal heaving, with ceremonial connotations. “Zoetropics,” the shortest piece, follows, offering a more diaphanous counterpoint to the density of its predecessor. The zithery, shivering “A Sun Harp,” its title redolent of Sun Ra, showcases Westerlund’s unfettered drumming, which skitters restlessly until anchored, at its conclusion, by a minor bass progression. Finally, “Fog Glossaries” exhales through the maritime and meteorological evocations of its title, distant buoys clanging. Although certainly elements and strategies of so-called ambient and drone musical traditions are invoked and deployed, those diffuse terms feel inadequate to describe everything else happening here: the devotional valences, the minimalist rigor, and even submarine jazz inclinations perceptible beneath the surface. Throughout this four-movement program, which invites deep listening, it is often difficult to differentiate individual instruments from the massed choir of the group’s unified sonic presence. At times what sound like field recordings cicadas, birds, wind, water splash out of this slow but powerful current, only to be revealed as overtones produced by harmonium, banjo, or cymbals. Setting’s sound is fundamentally synthetic in the sense of synthesis, not artifice—in a manner remarkable for its almost entirely acoustic arsenal of instrumentation, often registering as the product of a single alien technology, perhaps the rainbow lights of that bog-marooned UFO. (“Setting,” of course, can also refer to a machine’s variable operational amplitude its temperature, volume, speed, elevation, etc.) Sometimes the most seemingly extraterrestrial lifeforms are in fact our unfamiliar earthbound neighbors. Despite the destruction of many such habitats, the coastal plains of eastern, tidewater North Carolina is home to more pocosins freshwater, evergreen wetlands with deep, acidic, sandy, peat soils than anywhere else in the world. These threatened peat-bog ecosystems are the only native environment to sustain the carnivorous Venus flytrap, among other oddities. The sonic ecosystem of Setting similarly deep, acidic, and boggy contains equivalent wonders, savage and delicate, for listeners willing to take the time to sink.

New Shadows peaks into corners where interior and exterior worlds collide, where miniscule revelations can be found in the darkness of ourselves and our community: lost children, unheard prayers, bugs, money, depression, romantic relationships, regret, and Zoom funerals, all become a lens for self-reflection.

The production (by Don Cento and JDD) is modeled after DeCicca's favorite early 80's albums (Lindsey Buckingham's Law & Order, ZZ Top's Afterburner, Robert Palmer's Clues, Lou Reed's New Sensations,) while the songs' architectures and pathos lean more towards Warren Zevon, Townes Van Zandt, and John Prine - all these record- makers and songwriters are embedded in DeCicca's DNA, having seen them, and in some cases met them after gigs, when his brain was still developing between the ages of 13-19 years old.

The virtual collaborators are the musicians whose kept him company while isolated in his rural town, Bulverde, TX: Brian Harnetty's Many Hands, Rosali's No Medium, Irreversible Entanglements' Who Sent You?, James Brandon Lewis's Jessup Wagon, Jeff Parker's JP's Myspace Beats and Suite for Max Brown, and the Los Lobos discography.

New Shadows isn't so much about DeCicca's new discoveries, as it is the penumbrous reminder of what's always been there.

Faitiche welcomes Andrew Black aka blackbody_radiation. His debut album Ultra Materials gathers six ghostly drones, created with the help of sound masking.

Andrew Black, who hails from one of the UK's post industrial North West Milltowns has a sensitive feeling for space and its acoustics. Having trained as a designer and operated within the realms of architecture and public space, it was only natural to extend his interest to manipulating field recordings.

The six pieces collected on Ultra-Materials provide an insight into Black's highly sensitive minimalism: they stand for a subtly meandering mediation on room acoustics and place, which are manipulated with the help of sound masking, among other things - that is, the addition and superimposition of artificially generated frequencies to mask unwanted sounds.

Sometimes the pieces are reminiscent of warm engine noise, sometimes one thinks of carefully captured natural phenomena. Their strength lies in their elusiveness: free of concrete attributions or musical location, they can unfold their hypnotic pull without revealing anything about their origins. Harmonics at times shimmer, at times warble and at times coexist. It is an attempt to get in touch with our listening abilities.

Reissue of Veik's `From Madness To Nomadness' EP out now. Limited to 300 copies on 10" black in clear vinyl. Originally released on cassette in 2016, `From Madness to Nomadness' is the debut EP from Caen, France-based group Veik and is now being reissued on vinyl for the first time, with a limited 10" release courtesy of Fuzz Club Records. Introducing listeners to the trio's motorik, synthesised post-punk, the EP is a compilation of four tracks taken from a two-day recording session in the summer of 2016, recorded and mixed by Hugo Lamy of fellow Caen experimental duo Glass. The cover and the title of the EP are openly inspired by the `Telepathic Music' works by the French conceptual artist Robert Filiou, outlining the band's multi-disciplinary approach to music from the off. At the time drummer/vocalist Boris Collet told a local media outlet that "we wish to assume links with other artistic disciplines like photography". Concerning the reference to Robert Filiou, he added: "It is not so much the visual aspect that is important as the philosophy and the vision of the economy that he develops. The result should not be pompous or falsely intellectualizing. It is just that it seems relevant to build bridges between different fields (artistic or not). Bringing a bit of philosophy, architecture, images, sociology or geography into music can't hurt. It's not pretending to be anything else than what it is, it's still music, but I think there is a gesture and an intention to assume, no matter how you qualify it (creative, political, reflective). You have to allow yourself to do it."

Bob Dylan was at several crossroads in the mid-1970s. Artistically, he was largely written off as being past his prime. Emotionally, he was suffering through a painful divorce from his then-wife Sara Lowndes. Creatively, he appeared at a stalemate, his previous decade's unprecedented run of transformational brilliance finished. Then came Blood on the Tracks.

A start-to-finish cycle that documents a lover's pursuit of, entanglement with, and loss of a woman, the bracingly intimate 1975 effort remains one of the most encompassing break-up albums ever made and ranks as the most personal statement of the Bard's career. To hear it is to experience the agony, frustration, trauma, highs, lows, confusion, sadness, and, ultimately, requisite redemption associated with intimate relationships gone astray. Dylan maintains it's a work of fiction, but it's evident close-vested autobiographical premise is what helps make it universal: It's the icon singing through tears, going out of his mind, battling hallowing emptiness, firing shots across the bow, and accepting culpability. It is, in short, a consummate expression of love's darker sides and the consequences of what happens when dreams unravel.

As part of its Bob Dylan catalogue restoration series, Mobile Fidelity is thoroughly humbled to have the privilege of mastering the iconic LP from the original master tapes and pressing it on dead-quiet LP at RTI. The end result is the very finest, most transparent analogue edition of Blood on the Tracks ever produced – and the first-ever proper analog reissue. Fantastically presenting both the solo acoustic and band-supported songs with the utmost clarity, dynamics, presence, immediacy, spaciousness, imaging, and balance, this version shines a high-powered light on the fluid vocal phrasing, timbral shifts, functional rhythms, and inward-looking strumming that contribute to every song here serving as a wound-exposing confessional.

For all the melancholic pain, unresolved questions, shattered memories, wasted times, unrequited dialogues, and weary regret within, Blood on the Tracks remains as daring as it is reflective. Rather than follow for a monotone caustic vibe, Dylan's songs burrow into the subconscious for the manners in which they are even-keeled, mellow, and occasionally, even peaceful. Dignity, honour, poignancy, and fairness – all traits uncommon in any situation in which partners dissolve histories, change hearts, and attribute blame – instil the record with equilibrium on par with the consistency of the flowing melodies.

Throughout, tunes come on and proceed as if they could continue forever, Dylan spinning poetic verses and conversations amidst finely tied knots of acoustic notes, chords, and fills, the deceivingly simple architecture conjuring the intertwined refractions of a bezeled jewel, various angles, colours, and textures conjoining into a gorgeously inseparable whole. Backed by Tony Brown's flexible albeit subtle bass, Buddy Cage's country-streaked pedal-steel guitar, and Paul Griffin's soul-baring organ – an instrument used to shadow, tuck-point, and illuminate here as effectively as any time in rock history – Dylan pours soulful emotion, open his veins, and bleeds.

Ranked 16 on Rolling Stone's list of the 500 Greatest Albums of All Time, and replete with existential thought, piercing directness, raw singing, and majestic arrangements,

Given the sonic and artistic merit of this album, we anticipate huge demand.

Icelandic composer Högni"s score for the much-acclaimed Netflix"s series Katla will see its full release on July 28. The series takes place in Iceland, after the subglacial volcano Katla has been erupting constantly for a whole year, Gríma is still looking for her missing sister who disappeared the day the eruption started. As her hope of ever finding her body is fading, the residents of the surrounding area start to have visits from unexpected guests. There might be something hidden under the glacier no one could ever have foreseen. Speaking about the score, Högni says: "when I was asked by Baltasar Kormákur - the director and show creator - I started writing so when the filming was finished, I had already written a number of pieces for the show. As relatively in-experienced in the field I imagined that my work was finished and the rest was a matter of post-production and music editing. However it immediately became clear that my ambitions and the nature of the project called for second, third and fourth wind in order to fulfil the auditory architecture that needed to be built". Realising it was a monumental task, Högni kept a strict schedule every day, starting by writing and arranging in the morning, recording and mixing in the afternoon and presenting to the producer each evening. The score was recorded in Högni"s own studio, where him and his collaborators consisting of Tóti Gudnason, Inga Magnes, Petter Ekman, _órunn Osk and Sigurgeir found themselves working in a completely different way than they"ve done before, due to the nature of the project - "we worked the music out of my studio in Reykjavik, where a healthy number of musicians rotated through at the pace of an average ice cream parlour on a long summers evening in Reykjavik. The urgency of delivering cues and material left one in the state of instinctual execution at all hours without hesitation".

Icelandic composer Högni"s score for the much-acclaimed Netflix"s series Katla will see its full release on July 28. The series takes place in Iceland, after the subglacial volcano Katla has been erupting constantly for a whole year, Gríma is still looking for her missing sister who disappeared the day the eruption started. As her hope of ever finding her body is fading, the residents of the surrounding area start to have visits from unexpected guests. There might be something hidden under the glacier no one could ever have foreseen. Speaking about the score, Högni says: "when I was asked by Baltasar Kormákur - the director and show creator - I started writing so when the filming was finished, I had already written a number of pieces for the show. As relatively in-experienced in the field I imagined that my work was finished and the rest was a matter of post-production and music editing. However it immediately became clear that my ambitions and the nature of the project called for second, third and fourth wind in order to fulfil the auditory architecture that needed to be built". Realising it was a monumental task, Högni kept a strict schedule every day, starting by writing and arranging in the morning, recording and mixing in the afternoon and presenting to the producer each evening. The score was recorded in Högni"s own studio, where him and his collaborators consisting of Tóti Gudnason, Inga Magnes, Petter Ekman, _órunn Osk and Sigurgeir found themselves working in a completely different way than they"ve done before, due to the nature of the project - "we worked the music out of my studio in Reykjavik, where a healthy number of musicians rotated through at the pace of an average ice cream parlour on a long summers evening in Reykjavik. The urgency of delivering cues and material left one in the state of instinctual execution at all hours without hesitation".

Portland, OR-based multimedia artist William Selman returns to Mysteries of the Deep with his third album for the label. Drawing on influences such as David Toop, Beatriz Ferreyra, Elizabeth Waldo, and David Behrman, “The Weather Indoors” melds live and synthesized instrumentation, field recordings, and digital processing techniques in a new, more melodic and approachable direction.

Immersive site recordings open into melodic woodwinds, orchestral instrumentation, bass guitar, gongs, and vibraphone. Borrowing from the anthropologist Tim Ingold’s concept of “inversion,” this widescreen staging cuts immediately to the core of the project: the way human beings use the faculty of imagination to aestheticize their built surroundings with architecture, images of distant locales, and domesticated flora and fauna to contain the anxiety for the natural world that surrounds human life.

A clear peak in Selman's extensive catalog, “The Weather Indoors” captures his work at a moment expanding his musical and aesthetic project: Neither genre ambient nor musique concrète, but a unique sound world dense with conceptual play and moments of more traditional harmonic beauty.

“We are contaminated by our encounters: they change who we are as we make way for others. As contamination changes world-making projects, mutual worlds—and new directions—may emerge. Everyone carries a history of contamination; purity is not an option.” —Anne Lowenhaupt-Tsing, The Mushroom at the End of the World

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'A Soft Degeneration' was featured in a mix from Mysteries label boss, Grant Aaron, entitled 'Sundays are for' – hosted by Delayed.

William Selman has releases on Mysteries of the Deep, Critique of Everyday Life, Going In, Hausu Mountain.

"Bastian Epple makes an eagerly anticipated return to marionette under his elusive MinaeMinae guise that imagines rich sonic architectures for the journeying spirit to voyage to. Räumlichkeit is Epple’s debut album and third release to date following Gestrüpp from 2020, venturing further into melodic electronic nostalgia and percussive beat oriented soundscapes.

Growing up in a small village in southern Germany, Bastian Epple was never interested in kitschy folk sounds, rather he took solace in the time he would spend meditating to repetitive and hypnotic patterns. His guitar strumming and what sounded to his mother like a young Philip Glass on a cheap Casio keyboard encouraged little Epple to tread on this self-taught path of developing his own musical language. This led him to start experimenting with a tape recorder and layering sounds with non-musical samples to eventually working with a DAW.

Bastian went on to study Media Art at the Center for Art and Media (ZKM) in Karlsruhe and graduated with a diploma in film and documentary media - where he now works as a freelance filmmaker and lecturer at Stuttgart Media University. However, this never stopped him from creating and playing with wide-eyed sounds, eventually amassing a vast collection of tunes and finally emerging from this anonymity.

Utilizing modular synth, self made tape echos, synthetic sounds, recordings of ethnic percussion and guitar, MinaeMinae understands musical material similar to documentary footage which he would splice, repitch, and rearrange intuitively into captivating worlds."

Tucked in the heart of Koreatown, Los Angeles, lies The Libra Hotel—the titular architecture of Nick Malkin's new album and site of his musical and psychogeographic exploration. Unlike most musical "site-specific" studies, Malkin remains wholly ambivalent to the documentarian approach, instead sharpening an auteur-like focus on the site as a conceptual and highly expressive backdrop. The Libra is musically explored as a space that houses a noir fragmentation of identity—the exhausted trope of a complicated protagonist walking through rain-soaked street corners and fumy neon lights—where an inner monologue is rendered in both miniature and at a cosmic scale. Casting aside stifling tropes around field recording, ambient, and improvised music, Malkin's work finds its own unique fidelity and emotional core through the assembly and reassembly of memory. Nearly every sound on the album—from frayed saxophones, lambent pianos, and dissected jazz drum kits—are multiplied, shattered, and reconstituted into shapes that adorn The Libra in a motion-blurred fog. The narrative of the Hotel suddenly appears as if out of the mist, with intersecting characters interacting within its walls by happenstance. Adminst the languid set pieces, wraith-like sonic grains gravitate around wide subbass beams that give structural form to The Libra, a narrative tension like when a scene is shot from hundreds of different perspectives: an image both luminous and veiled.

Much like Frank Sinatra's own spatial residency immortalized on "Live at The Sands," "At The Libra Hotel" showcases an exuberant view of entertainment, hospitality, and a form of masculinity, one that can quickly detourn into darkness. Knowing this, Malkin extracts a melancholic core out of The Libra locale. The flickering shadows of American decadence are shown in their ephemeral honesty, lines that trace how even in everyday life virtue is tested, sanity is tested, even reality is tested within the confines of desire, within the night. The album is draped in fleeting textures, carefully arranged with a trance-like microtonality, the faint inflections and articulations of a jazz band cascading into dissipated stillness. Voicemails about changed locations and covert eavesdropping on guests' whispered conversations provide an atmosphere of missed connection and voyeurism—a purloined letter of desire receding into a vanishing point. Like the music itself, The Hotel, a chapel perilous at the intersection of desolation row, the center of it all, yet simultaneously at the edge of town, becomes a structure between libidinous virtuality and actuality—our inevitable half-light.

Ultimately, the pensive atmosphere of "At The Libra Hotel," powerfully asserts a plea for the kinds of intimacy only possible in transient spaces. Here, memory cascades into a force that feels like something supernatural, perhaps even religious, yet always subject to the infidelity of our imagination. Here, the album opens into its primary psychodrama, the transient nature of subjectivity itself and how this becomes fractured in the tumult between our commitments and desires. Within this nocturnal space, to quote Louise Bourgeois, "you pile up associations the way you pile up bricks. Memory itself is a form of architecture."

Cory Hanson"s third solo LP follows upon 2020"s luminescent Pale Horse Rider, upping the heat to molten levels, six strings at a time. In search of further adventures, Cory draws with vampiric glee from the madness coursing through the world outside; a spiraling shitshow that"s reawakened a compulsion in him - an old ambition, even! - to crush brutality and elegance together into a fresh set of rocks to hail down upon us. Western Cum is a high-stepping, hard-dancing, first love/heartbreak, tonight"s-the-night, future nostalgia kind of good time - the sound of guitars through the speakers of luxury cars. Like the dream you had once, alone, asleep in an amplifier, blasting Guns N" Roses through every last orifice in your body. And it"s coming through! Western Cum"s map to the treasure is less about pastiche, though; more toward executing the songs by executioner"s axe, rolling their decapitated rhythm heads and soaring melodies, the panoply of Cory"s melodic impulses with guitars, guitars, guitars. Harmony leads are just the tip of the iceberg, but be quick - the guitars like to melt everything in their path! The eight songs of Western Cum are driven by the stalwart bass of brother Casey Hanson and the drums of Evan Backer with a few passing acoustics from Cory and the intermittent spirit-moans of Tyler Nuffer"s steel guitar. The quartet sound - two guitars, bass and drums - acts as beat-making principle/phrasing device, as well as template for Cory"s layers of six-string and vocal textures. From the rooftop of their musical safe house - the band in their makeshift hut and Cory ensconced in an outhouse - they let loose with a blast both face-melting and mind-blowing: a social service that gives constipation a good name.

Abstrakce recover this lost gem recorded in 1999 and published by Keliehor himself in a very short-run CD named "Create Music", which had almost no diffusion.

An outstanding collection of exotic tracks with a wide range of influences from primitive cultures all over the world. An unexplored region where the Minimalism concepts developed by Steve Reich, La Monte Young, or Terry Riley and renewed by Midori Takada meet Jon Hassell's 4th world ideas.

You will find here repetitive patterns that evolve and transform the sound space, unlikely instruments gathered together in a perfectly harmonic way, making flow an unusual melodic sense when the uncommon combinations of these instruments interact with one another. Simple instruments, yet exotic, primitive sound makers with complex personalities, timeless sound treasures unchanging a hundred years. Crude or sophisticated, most of the instruments, compel us to listen to them. A more flexible and wider range of tonality is discovered by limiting the number of instruments that play together and choosing those whose tones and harmonics resonate together.

The record results from a didactic project for nursery and primary school environments while searching for ideas to guide children in following the details of music. The music architectures are often transparent, even repetitive, but the culminative effect soon becomes more than that. These pieces are aural landscapes for dreams and adventures, doorways to imaginative worlds.

The Artists:

Jon Keliehor and Signy Jakobsdottir performed together in Seattle, Venezuela, and Scotland. During their stay in Seattle, both had studied gamelan music with Gamelan Pacifica under the direction of Jarrad Powell. After returning to Scotland, they continued to study and perform with Gamelan Naga Mas, in Glasgow, in projects directed by dhalang Joko Susilo, dancer/director Nyoman Wenten, and Professor Matthew Issac Cohen.

In Scotland, they created adult and children's workshops under the banner of Luminous Music. Preceding the formation of Luminous Music, Keliehor had worked as percussionist and composer with contemporary dance companies, both in London and Seattle. Following on studies in percussion music at Dartington College of the Arts, Signy moved to Seattle to begin work with Jon. The partnership that ensued brought them to Caracas, Costa Rica, Brazil and Spain to create music for the dance company DanzaHoy. In 1996, they returned to Glasgow, and continued to work together at the newly created Luminous Music Studios. Signy's involvement with musicians/groups has continued beyond this to include genres in Scottish/Celtic traditions, in Jazz, as well as music innovations of her own design.

French electronic post-punk/krautrock trio Veik recruit Sonic Boom and Vanishing Twin to reimagine tracks from their 2021 debut album, 'Surrounding Structures'. Both remixes have been pressed to wax by Fuzz Club, due out June 9 2023 on a heavy clear-blue 7" limited to 250 copies. On the A-side Sonic Boom (aka Pete Kember of Spacemen 3 and Spectrum) takes album-opener 'Difficult Machinery' and deconstructs it into a spaced-out, oscillating drone. Shifting gear on the B-side, 'Honesty (I Don't Wanna Know)' was already a piece of throbbing and discordant proto-punk and on this remix London psych-pop experimentalists Vanishing Twin turn it into an even more abrasive and unpredictable beast. Now being revisited via these remixes, Veik's 'Surrounding Structures' album was rooted in avant-garde krautrock and 70s no wave and inspired by brutalist and modernist architecture. It came highly praised by the likes of Loud & Quiet, Line of Best Fit, Louder Than War, BBC 6 Music, KEXP, France24, France Inter and more.

Night shifting patiently, slowly drifting in constant flux. Where Ancient Plastix’ debut used rhythm to create geometrical sound architectures and craft elaborate mazes, his new offering ‘II’ glides effortlessly, combining incredibly rich textures with soft swan-like strokes, oscillating gently, an unhurried pace that combines the depth of Japanese ambient maestros and the choppy British mist.

Liverpool producer Paul Rafferty aka Ancient Plastix, recorded ‘II’ straight to cassette with a number of different synths (Yamaha Reface, Korg MS20) and keyboards (90s casio and 70s Gem organ) via a collection of guitar pedals, outboard (Roland Space Echo, Melos delay, spring reverb). His tape machine this time was a Japanese Sansui from the 90s, a strange 6 track machine with a pleasing fidelity bought off from an old rave dad who was finally giving up the ghost.

“Musically, this album is more patient in its approach to the predecessor. Recorded towards the end of lockdown in my highstreet basement below a used record shop, the arrangements reflect the personal era. No responsibility, no reasons to adhere to the previous patterns in my music making. As a result the album is a patient trawl through new discoveries and possibilities presented by improvising with old technology.”

There is a widescreen grandeur that permeates Ancient Plastix’ production, a cinematic instinct that steers clear of crescendos by creating paths that revel in warmth and emotion. Flotsam & jetsam, instinct, burnout, heartbreak.