Cerca:auditory response

Rebecca Goldberg wrote TROIS CENT TROIS as an auditory postcard with musings from a late-summer road trip across France in 2021. On TCT Rebecca sonically guides us through the emotion of new adventure and the risks involved during a time of global uncertainty.

The first single, TROIT CENT TROIS, is a play of the French way to say Detroit and 3-0-3. Like Rebecca's previous work on Detroit Underground, acid is the EP’s predominant sound. The next stop, A2 track Le Détroits, is an acidic metaphor for the celestial beauty of the French countryside. Face A ends with The Perception of our Power, a Ghettotech cut that's full of Detroit-funky/beloved-in-Paris bounce.

Flip to Face B and bathe in the acid arpeggiation of the lead-off track Paradoxe du Plaisir (Pleasure Paradox in English), referring to the practical difficulties encountered in the pursuit of pleasure. The destination B2 track, What It Means (To Start Over in a Ruined World), waxes poetic on the explanation with throbbing percussion and call and response rhythms.

According to Viktor Frankl in Man's Search for Meaning, "Happiness cannot be pursued; it must ensued and it only does so as the unintended side effect of one's personal dedication to a cause greater than oneself or as the by-product of one's surrender to a person other than oneself."

TROIS CENT TROIS was featured on Bandcamp’s “New and Notable” releases list and was highly regarded in The Wire magazine.

For the vinyl release, Rebecca designed a minimal black and white package with slanted black text reminiscent of France's directional local road signs. The vinyl is limited to 303 copies and each one is hand-signed and numbered.

With the collective generosity of all those involved along the way, from mastering, manufacturing, affiliated record stores and PR to the artists themselves and PDD, all profits from this special one-sided Artwork remix of Mildlife ‘Zwango Zop’ will be donated to two charities combatting the bushfire emergency in Australia via Prime Direct Distribution; Wildlife Victoria and the Australian Red Cross.

Their indispensable efforts continue to assist the emergency response, rebuilding homes and habitats, supporting rescued animals and the shelters that house them, alongside aiding the evacuation centres and recovery hubs created in many communities and implementing recovery plans for those who have been devastatingly affected by the bushfires.

Certified man of the people, king of the content and all-round good guy Artwork has been there, everywhere, and done it all - in more guises than many would even know about. From Magnetic Man to Grain, D’N’D to Artwork he’s a master producer, well versed at knowing what dancefloors want and more importantly need.

Now take Mildlife, the boundary pushing, critically acclaimed Melbourne-based space jazz four-piece, who’ve managed to seamlessly blend jazz, funk and disco into one multi-coloured, multi-layered melting pot of auditory excitement. A band whose hype is certainly lived up to, with the likes of DJ Harvey heavily championing them to the point of including ‘Magnificent Moon’ on his ‘The Sound Of Mercury Rising’ VA LP.

A wash with improvisation, soaring synths, stratospheric bass riffs, and a fluidity of grooves, ‘Zwango Zop’, taken from Midlife’s debut album ‘Phase’, is kaleidoscopic cosmic gold. For this special non-profit release, Artwork extracts that undeniable funk energy and turns into a 10-and-a-half-minute, highly hypnotic, instantly addictive creation that it is as psychedelic as it is slamming.

Just one of many examples of the dance music community coming together as a power of good to raise funds for those affected by the emergency in Australia. Support the cause, through the medium of music.

With The Object Isn't There UK guitar player and producer Jack Allett has made a deeply personal masterpiece based around cyclical guitar parts and electronic percussion. Playing like a half remembered fever dream with an aesthetic that is ragged, hypnotic and spacey, its two side-long pieces touch on minimalism, kraut-infused dub and euphoric dance floor optimism. As comfortable being played after Manuel Göttschings E2-E4 as right before a Terekke lo-fi house anthem, it is laced with the melancholy of an early morning post-rave comedown. Yet for all the references and name-checking, it's a record that is hard to compare to anything else, past or present.



BIOGRAPHY



Jack Allett works as a producer in London and has been active for many years as an experimental guitar player, releasing a solo record on Blackest Rainbow and collaborating with UK avant-guitar player Cam Deas. The Object Isn't There was written, recorded, and mixed in Camberwell and Camden, London, UK. 2012-2016.



INFO



This record is about - insofar as instrumental music need be about anything - hallucinations. The title The Object Isn't There serves as a concise definition, derived from the quote 'An hallucination is a strictly sensational form of consciousness, as good and true a sensation as if there were a real object there. The object happens to be not there, that is all.' (William James, The Principles Of Psychology, 1890)



Having experienced constant tinnitus - a form of auditory hallucination - for the last 13 years, Jack has long questioned the distinction of something experienced as being either there or not-there. Even if, strictly speaking, an hallucination is something that's not there, if the reality of how it affects day-to-day existence is undeniable then to any extent that matters, it is there. But The Object Isn't There is no tale of woe, nor simply a response to this one condition, and tinnitus need not be considered only as distressing or distracting. Allett sees it merely as one example of many things in life that cross this uncertain terrain:



There are obvious parallels here with the notion of active listening. There is room for emotion too, particularly the kind of overwhelming, -all-consuming emotion that, once it fades, is hard to believe was actually how you felt. Essentially the music here is concerned with being overwhelmed by a sensation, never really being sure to what extent you are conjuring it up yourself, to what extent it exists independently of you, but ultimately deciding that it doesn't much matter; the sensation itself was undeniable.

— Jack Allett

A swirling haze with a plenitude of sounds bobbing to it's surface it's a heartfelt