Suche:concret

Circular patterns morphing through time, loop and ritual form the fabric of Proserpine, the latest work by Leeds-based musician, Teresa Winter. Recorded from a summer to a winter through 2021 and 2022, Proserpine is Winter's most cohesive, focused music to date: confidently revelling in space, fixating on isolated sounds and giving way to satisfying, swirling waves of vocal and electronic buzz. Proserpine is Teresa Winter's debut recording for Glasgow-based label, Night School.

On Proserpine, musical patterns revolve and intersect with each other, transmogrifying the music's narrative. Over-arching themes emerge: continual change, elusiveness. Insubstantiality emerges into concrete reality in the form of recognisable field recordings: the purring of a pet cat, the hum of a live cable. The loops and patterns are sometimes just out of sight, the click and whirl on Child Of Nature is the backdrop to hymnal vocalisations by Winter, who intones spell-like text in conversation with herself. On opener Circles, Winter's vocal is pre-linguistic, detached syllables falling into flowing streams, before Plume's field recordings seem to juxtapose nocturnal and diurnal wildlife. "You said I was a Flower Of The Mountain" sings Winter, as James Joyce's Molly Bloom does but the carpe diem desire in Ulysses is dissipated here, spread out by gauzy, droning organs. Here desire is blown up and out, changed into something undefinable but no less powerful.

Change is at the heart of the album. The Roman goddess Proserpine, herself a reimagined version of the earlier Greek goddess Persephone, is always between: between summer and winter, the land of the living and the underworld, constantly emerging into new states of being. It's a fitting metaphor for Winter's work. Like an Apple feels like it soundtracks this in-between state, long, trailing reverb smudging synth keys and Winter's achingly beautiful vocal performance. The effect is stirring but flitting in and out of perception, sometimes Winter's presence feels of this world, of musical instruments and practises and at others it feels like the music is about to phase into a different plane, a different universe.

While Proserpine references the myths and cults of the classical, pre-Christian era, Winter's restless preoccupation with the mechanics of religion informs the album in other ways. Ritual is present through out, either in the mantra-like vocalisations or even the private rituals we are invited to witness: on Fireworks the listener eave drops into the protagonist's private bonfire. On the stunning Lamento, layers of Choral vocal interlock in celestial patterns that recall catholic mass: it's an overt effect that simulates the ecstasy of religious fervour and also reminds the listener of the use of vocal that runs through Proserpine. Winter's vocals often echo with the euphoria of obliteration, of disintegrating in an awful bliss. It's an effect achieved with finality by the closer New Water as the piece begins with voice before burning up in the atmosphere of elegiac violins and enveloping undertows of whirring synth patterns and ghostly pads. Proserpine is forever turning, changing, always elusive and quietly revelatory.

Scandinavian jawbreakers Harmagedon offer up a nightmare future on their debut album Dystopian Dreams, with a refreshingly modern concoction of melodic death metal and crust punk. Three piece riff machine from Stockholm Sweden, Harmagedon is a raw festering carcass of dynamic grind and roll. Featuring members of Martyrdöd and Freedom raising hell once again, Harmagedon’s debut record Dystopian Dreams is a fusion of heaviness that is difficult to pin down but makes all the damn sense in the world! With focus on primal minimalism but maximum animalism, Dystopian Dreams is the ground zero of an explosive power trio summoning raw energy into being. With no frills and no gimmicks, just relentless heaviness, Harmagedon is a matured brew of “crust punk” or “d-beat” (“kängpunk” for the diehards) infused with ravishing death-metal. Dystopian Dreams is made by adepts of distortion and grime to be imbibed by connoisseurs of rage and chord-fury. Recorded live at their own studio, Dystopian Dreams was conjured with the help of Fred Forsberg of Mass Worship at the controls, capturing Harmagedon’s wildfire and blending this dense stew together. With the addition of Magnus Lindberg of Cult of Luna mastering it, Dystopian Dreams has that exceptional flavour of a future classic, where all the cogs and wheels of this merciless weapon fire on all cylinders. Black Sabbath, Entombed, Neurosis & High on Fire spring to mind, as the calibre of Harmadgedon’s riff whirlwind is of the finest quality, the antithesis of royalty but epic and majestic in delivery. Dystopian Dreams’ hulking magnetism leads you expertly to headbang and worship at the altar of timeless metal, without the slightest remnant of doubt. Songs like Reptilian and Controlled Chaos groove and churn, but pack a hell of a concrete punch, with nihilistic, gravelled guitars and spewing vocals of molten brimstone. Guitarist and vocalist Tim Rosenquist says: “Controlled Chaos is about propaganda actions and distractions but Reptilian is about how hard work makes you into this emotionless beast of a being. That song is best served blasting on the factory floor or in the car on your way to the office! Reptilian’s themes are at the core of what Harmagedon is about”. Look to the masters to deliver true heavyweight metal when the current scene lacks enough muscle and teeth. From a band made up of underground titans, Harmagedon is drawn from the well of eternal heaviness, living in death forever, what nightmares are made of. Harmagedon is: Tim Rosenquist - Guitars & Vocals Magnus Berglund - Bass Jens Bäckelin - Drums

Scandinavian jawbreakers Harmagedon offer up a nightmare future on their debut album Dystopian Dreams, with a refreshingly modern concoction of melodic death metal and crust punk. Three piece riff machine from Stockholm Sweden, Harmagedon is a raw festering carcass of dynamic grind and roll. Featuring members of Martyrdöd and Freedom raising hell once again, Harmagedon’s debut record Dystopian Dreams is a fusion of heaviness that is difficult to pin down but makes all the damn sense in the world! With focus on primal minimalism but maximum animalism, Dystopian Dreams is the ground zero of an explosive power trio summoning raw energy into being. With no frills and no gimmicks, just relentless heaviness, Harmagedon is a matured brew of “crust punk” or “d-beat” (“kängpunk” for the diehards) infused with ravishing death-metal. Dystopian Dreams is made by adepts of distortion and grime to be imbibed by connoisseurs of rage and chord-fury. Recorded live at their own studio, Dystopian Dreams was conjured with the help of Fred Forsberg of Mass Worship at the controls, capturing Harmagedon’s wildfire and blending this dense stew together. With the addition of Magnus Lindberg of Cult of Luna mastering it, Dystopian Dreams has that exceptional flavour of a future classic, where all the cogs and wheels of this merciless weapon fire on all cylinders. Black Sabbath, Entombed, Neurosis & High on Fire spring to mind, as the calibre of Harmadgedon’s riff whirlwind is of the finest quality, the antithesis of royalty but epic and majestic in delivery. Dystopian Dreams’ hulking magnetism leads you expertly to headbang and worship at the altar of timeless metal, without the slightest remnant of doubt. Songs like Reptilian and Controlled Chaos groove and churn, but pack a hell of a concrete punch, with nihilistic, gravelled guitars and spewing vocals of molten brimstone. Guitarist and vocalist Tim Rosenquist says: “Controlled Chaos is about propaganda actions and distractions but Reptilian is about how hard work makes you into this emotionless beast of a being. That song is best served blasting on the factory floor or in the car on your way to the office! Reptilian’s themes are at the core of what Harmagedon is about”. Look to the masters to deliver true heavyweight metal when the current scene lacks enough muscle and teeth. From a band made up of underground titans, Harmagedon is drawn from the well of eternal heaviness, living in death forever, what nightmares are made of. Harmagedon is: Tim Rosenquist - Guitars & Vocals Magnus Berglund - Bass Jens Bäckelin - Drums

Following on from recent works for 12k, The Trilogy Tapes, and Important, Far More Decentralized is a new collection of subtle, enchanting pieces from Tokyo-based sound and visual artist Akhira Sano. Working with electronic, instrumental, and concrete sounds, he crafts immersive assemblages of long overlapping tones and blurred resonance, cut through with textural crunch and hiss. The resonant bell-like tones of opener ‘Kouai’ invite the listener in, calling up the warm sound palette of ambient classics like Hiroshi Yoshimura’s Music for Nine Postcards, but leaving any sense of compositional anchor behind for a free-floating harmonic drift. Woven through this seductive tonal cloud is a wavering stream of white noise and tactile pops, its textural grit threatening to derail the calmly reflective pool of pitched sounds, but never quite doing so. Each of these seven pieces occupies a similarly ruminative harmonic space while possessing its own identity. On ‘Neow’, lush tonal swells form around fragmented samples, touching on the techniques of early 2000s glitch artists like Ekkehard Ehlers. ‘Orbv’ is particularly subtle in its combination of rippling back-masked tonal wash, almost subliminal suggestions of field recordings, and distant traces of raw electronic interference, as if a Toshimaru Nakamura recording is playing through an open window across the road. ‘Margin’ weaves together a skein of wistful slow-motion melodies while untraceable, resonant clinks and ambiguous static washes rise gradually to the surface. In comparison to his recent Phase Contrast for Recollection on 12k, recognisable instrumental sounds are a rarity here, yet a hand-played feeling is present throughout. On ‘Teens’, filtered electric guitar tones reminiscent of the melancholic miniatures of Andrew Chalk float over aqueous burbles, bringing the album to a magisterial close. In the crowded field of contemporary electronic music tending toward ambience, Sano is a distinctive voice. Like his elegant abstract paintings, here seemingly static surfaces of unhurried calm reveal rich interior worlds of subtle activity and gentle chaos. Where much contemporary ambient music aims for an almost stifling cleanliness of tone, Sano breathes life into Far More Decentralized through the acceptance of imperfection, accident, and rough edges. As the artist himself says, ‘In a world where everything can be made perfectly, I think it’s a beautiful and primal act to touch the fragile and imperfect’

Following on from the psychoacoustic concrète of Outside Ludlow / Desert Disco LP (BT075), Sam Dunscombe returns to Black Truffle with Two Forests / Oceanic. Dunscombe has been active in recent years on multiple fronts, including as a key member of the Berlin community of Just Intonation researchers and practitioners; working with composers like Taku Sugimoto, Mary Jane Leach, and Anthony Pateras; and the release of Horatiu Radulescu - Plasmatic Music vol. 1 (the result of many years performance research into the thought and music of this seminal Romanian spectralist). In parallel with these activities, Dunscombe has been deeply involved in research on the role of music in psychedelic-assisted psychotherapy, prompting these two side long pieces, composed using field recordings and digital synthesis. As Dunscombe explains in the accompanying liner notes, music plays a key role in psychedelic-assisted therapy, yet it is often restricted to stock forms of New Age, ambient and electronica. Taking seriously the potential for spatio-environmental sonic experiences to add to the therapeutic process, these two pieces are intended to suggest how ‘a music-as-environment approach may help to add options to the therapist’s toolbox’. ‘Two Forests’ begins in a central Californian sequoia grove. Bird songs and buzzing insect life are treated with a variety of time-based processing methods (slicing and recombination, primitive granular synthesis, delay, and so on), which strip the field recordings of their linear, documentary character, reframing them in an enchanted web of traces and echoes. Analysing the pitches found in the original recordings, Dunscombe used them to generate a large Just Intonation pitch set. These tones are woven slowly into the field recordings, gradually building in density and complexity until the forest has been transformed into an unreal space of infinite proportions. Emerging from this cosmic expanse in the final minutes of the piece, we find ourselves in the Amazon rainforest outside Manaus, Brazil. As Dunscombe writes, the piece creates ‘a sense of place-gone-strange, of space and time simultaneously expanding and contracting across octaves, miles, and minutes’. On ‘Oceanic’, several recordings of different beaches fade in and out to create a texture both homogenous and constantly shifting in both the rhythm of the waves and each recording's sense of depth and distance. Tones relating in simple ratios to the average rhythm of each beach float over each other, colouring the white noise texture of the field recordings with shifting hues. In both pieces, Dunscombe forgoes the easy consonance that bogs down much contemporary ambient music for a richer harmonic array informed by extended tuning practices and spectralism. The end results suggest a hitherto undreamt-of meeting of Radulescu’s undulating sonic masses and the discreetly processed location recordings of Irv Teibel’s ‘psychologically ultimate’ Environments. Looking beyond the insularity that can afflict experimental music culture, Dunscombe’s work is a moving argument for the healing power of expanded approaches to sound and music. Even outside of a psychedelics-assisted therapy, frequent immersion in Two Forests / Oceanic is almost guaranteed to produce beneficial psychological results.

»Tropic of Capricorn« is the second album by Lawrence English and Werner Dafeldecker. Based on field recordings made by the prolific Room40 owner that were subtly but decisively altered with electroacoustic techniques through the German improv legend, these two long-form pieces blur the lines between acoustic ecology and aesthetic interventions, concrete local sound worlds and boundary-defying art. They put a focus on our relationship with nature as listeners as much as they call into question where nature ends and human perception begins. They are deeply confusing, disorienting perhaps, in the most beautiful ways.

English recorded the material that form the basis of the duo’s Hallow Ground debut on two different field trips. One led him from the Western coast to the Pilbara region in the North of the country called Australia, the other to the central desert into the lands of the Arrernte people. »These are vast spaces, and in some respects they shun contemporary ideas of civilisation which seek not to listen to the country,« says English. When recording the soundscapes, the artist put a focus on the residues of failed colonial aspirations. »The buildings and objects that remain from the failed cattle pastures and other endeavours create uneasy sound worlds of their own,« he says of the regions that are also places of extraction, especially the heavily mined Pilbara. »There is a distant drone of industry in even the most remote of places; an unsettled sense of heavy breath on the land.« He brought home a document of natural reclamation in time.

The rich source material was then given to Dafeldecker. Spatialising the recordings with transducers applied to different surfaces such as wood, stretched animal skin, glass, or metal surfaces and also re-recording parts of the recordings, he created discrete events that were inserted into, or rather enmeshed with English’s recordings. You’ll hear plenty of birdsong, insect noises and the sound of rain during these 39 minutes; the sounds of a life you can tap into if you tune into your environment. But there are also other things, things that are impossible to categorise even after repeated listens and that call into question whether or not those were really birds, insects, or the sound of rain in the first place. What »Tropic of Capricorn« invites its listeners to listen beyond the preconceived notions of how nature is supposed to be represented in sound and to instead embrace the immediacy of the sensation.

Fully remastered edition of the classic rarities collection from The Obsessed, plus new tracks and new liner notes! A historic document of the stoner/doom godfather's original and best-known band. This new version is Black.Blues Swirl Vinyl! 2020 is the 40th anniversary of the formation of The Obsessed, one of the preeminent bands in the worldwide stoner/doom scene. Led by Scott "Wino" Weinrich, a heavy music lifer admired and acclaimed by the likes of Dave Grohl, Pepper Keenan, Henry Rollins and Phil Anselmo, The Obsessed has been releasing milestone albums for decades on labels like Hellhound, Columbia and Relapse, with Wino himself playing and performing with members of Sleep, Neurosis, Foo Fighters, Judas Priest, Black Sabbath and more. Since their earliest days, The Obsessed accumulated dozens of demos, b-sides, covers and alternate recordings, many of which were issued in various limited releases and an early-2000s collection called Incarnate. Long out of print, Blues Funeral Recordings' new ultimate edition of The Obsessed 'Incarnate' is completely remastered, features the addition of 4 new tracks, and is packaged with all new artwork, photos, and extensive new liner notes with Wino himself telling stories behind each long-lost gem. Fully remastered, new tracks, new artwork, new photos, new liner notes! Press Quotes: 'The career of Wino is a rich and fabled one, and his tentacles of influence weave throughout the arenas of rock, punk and metal.' _Alternative Press 'Wino, what a fucking guitar player, and one of my favorite singers, nothing to prove, just soul-felt vocals.' _Phil Anselmo (Down, Pantera) 'Wino's music has always been so serious, that's the only thing he knows, and he's gonna do it whether or not he makes a million dollars or ten bucks... he means it.' _Pepper Keenan (Corrosion of Conformity) 2020 is the 40th anniversary of the formation of The Obsessed, one of the preeminent bands in the stoner/doom scene worldwide for nearly 40 years. Led by Scott ""Wino"" Weinrich, a heavy music lifer admired and acclaimed by the likes of Dave Grohl, Pepper Keenan, Henry Rollins and Phil Anselmo, The Obsessed has been releasing milestone albums for decades on labels like Hellhound, Columbia and Relapse, as well as Wino himself playing and performing in bands with members of Sleep, Neurosis, Judas Priest, Black Sabbath and more. Since The Obsessed's earliest days, the band accumulated dozens of b-sides, covers, alternate takes and demos, many of which were issued on a variety of compilations and an early-2000s collection called Incarnate. Long out of print, Blues Funeral Recordings' new ultimate edition of The Obsessed 'Incarnate' is completely remastered, features the addition of new tracks, and is packaged with all new artwork, photos, and all-new extensive liner notes written by Wino himself to tell the stories behind each long-lost gem.

Will Anderson believes in true love—as both concept and catalyst, aspiration and inspiration. During his 34 years, the Hotline TNT founder and architect has found such love perhaps half-a-dozen times. Each instance has prompted some enormous swing of commitment, like a cross-country move or simply being honest about his budding attraction. It is a hopeful and vulnerable way to exist, a way to ensure maximum bruising during the fall of the breakup. And so far for Anderson, that is how it has always ended, whether the air has slowly seeped out of some once-full balloon or whether it has simply popped, those expanded feelings expelled in an instant. This tension is the brain, blood, and beating heart of Cartwheel, Hotline TNT’s second LP and an endlessly romantic testament to reaching for something that slips forever out of grasp. The byproduct of Anderson’s decades-long quest to pin down the surging sound long in his head, Hotline TNT has come to notice in the last four years through loose association with a feverish surge of shoegaze revivalism. And Hotline TNT indeed trucks in the touchstones you might expect: skywriting guitars that bathe in fluorescent hazes of distortion, blown-out drums that pound as though they’re trying to escape a concrete box, and honeyed vocals that try to rise above the chaotic mess in true-to-life mimesis.

‘A Concrete Pasture’ by Coen Oscar Polack is the follow-up to ‘Haarlemmerhout’ (2020), an album named after a park close to his home in Haarlem in the Netherlands. ‘A Concrete Pasture’ brings Polack’s interest in exploring the larger world around him back into his music. Polack is a magician in combining field recordings from all over the world, be it a temple in Bangkok, the Dutch Wadden Islands or a the percussive Gamelan instruments, and electronic processing of these recordings. With all these ingredients he creates a vivid, nostalgic, futuristic but familiar world of sounds and emotions.

At first, the colors of the recordings seem scattered, the sounds unrelated, but there is a deeper train of thought running through the music. It is the persistent impression of a travelogue; of places, family and friends, helping Polack in co-creating his music. In ‘Cuore Nero’, nostalgic powerchords are composed into tapestries of ambient-noise, ‘Unseen Shores’ uses a recomposed recording of Polack’s children on the Dutch island of Schiermonnikoog and develops into visceral, almost spiritual music, and a field recording of Wat Po in Bangkok in ‘Phra Buddhasaiyas’ becomes a luminous homage that the incorporated guitar sound burns into your skull.

While listening, it becomes evident that Polack is being reflective in auditive images and memory, giving a meaning to a music that is liberated of its formalities and charged with a poignant imagery by transformation, one that is bright and lucid and respects the process from recording until ornamentation.

The longest piece of the album ‘Kraaiennest’, starts with the recording of a Hong Kong traffic light, later to be cut up and transformed into a technoid Musique Concrète piece, with a slow progression into a warm crescendo-decrescendo themed electroacoustic piece, which takes on a life on its own. The finale is Polack on this tenor saxophone putting a stamp on the completion of his work, a performance reminiscing of the raw expressiveness of Albert Ayler.

‘A Concrete Pasture’ points to a landscape, or to a person’s current situation in life. Coen Oscar Polack did himself justice by writing an elegant, vibrant album, a tribute to his reflection of reality, his aesthetics, and with raw authenticity and skill, leaving a great space for the audience’s imagination.

Eight decades in and Charles Hayward (This Heat, Camberwell Now) isn’t slowing down, he’s picking up the pace. Following on from a sensational string of gigs and festival performances, his latest endeavour - Abstract Concrete - is now primed to release this astounding self-titled debut via state51 Conspiracy.

The band features the luminous cast of Agathe Max (Mésange, UKAEA) on viola, Otto Willberg (Yes Indeed, Historically Fucked) on bass, Roberto Sassi (Snorkel, Glenn Branca) on guitar, Yoni Silver (Hyperion Ensemble, Steve Noble) on keyboards and, of course, Charles himself on drums and vocals. With this undeniable experimental pedigree, it’ll likely come as one hell of a surprise that this group are now responsible for one of the most persuasive and hook-laden avant pop albums of the year.

The earth rotates, seasons change_there is but one long day_ Time is a beguiling, indistinct entity_sometimes standing still, sometimes bending back upon itself with premonitions or memories of the future. Growing out of a pen pal style correspondence that took place over the course of a year, separated by the Atlantic Ocean, Gloria de Oliveira and Dean Hurley passed thoughts and music back and forth that would eventually form their collaborative album, Oceans of Time. The result is an aural tapestry of that exchange: woven from conceptual threads of the celestial within, mortality and the realm beyond stars. The duo's partnership is an effortless merge, yet it's the steady presence of de Oliveira's vocals that endows the record with its sense of potency. Throughout the album, there is an innate understanding of how a lyric across a chordal color can sharpen an emotional truth. Much like a sunbeam that pierces a spiderweb to reveal its intricacy, her lyric and melody are purposely aimed in order to illuminate the truths deep within oneself_a process that ties us all to the universal. The Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard, a professed influence, wrote about the truth as something that was inherently subjective, less about the concrete reality of what is believed and more about how it is experienced by the believer. Frequent David Lynch collaborator Dean Hurley sets the tonal and sonic landscape of each track on the album, lending a layered ether that envelops, frames and holds de Oliveira's vocals. With its impressionistic synths, shimmering guitars, and ethereal sonics, Oceans of Time at moments recalls the foundational dreampop of 4AD acts like Cocteau Twins and Lush. The album feels especially attuned to the connections between the physical and transcendental realms, and the best dreampop has a way of making the veil between two worlds feel just a little bit thinner. Oceans of Time is a key that has the power to release its listener from the handcuffs of reality, however briefly_

The earth rotates, seasons change_there is but one long day_ Time is a beguiling, indistinct entity_sometimes standing still, sometimes bending back upon itself with premonitions or memories of the future. Growing out of a pen pal style correspondence that took place over the course of a year, separated by the Atlantic Ocean, Gloria de Oliveira and Dean Hurley passed thoughts and music back and forth that would eventually form their collaborative album, Oceans of Time. The result is an aural tapestry of that exchange: woven from conceptual threads of the celestial within, mortality and the realm beyond stars. The duo's partnership is an effortless merge, yet it's the steady presence of de Oliveira's vocals that endows the record with its sense of potency. Throughout the album, there is an innate understanding of how a lyric across a chordal color can sharpen an emotional truth. Much like a sunbeam that pierces a spiderweb to reveal its intricacy, her lyric and melody are purposely aimed in order to illuminate the truths deep within oneself_a process that ties us all to the universal. The Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard, a professed influence, wrote about the truth as something that was inherently subjective, less about the concrete reality of what is believed and more about how it is experienced by the believer. Frequent David Lynch collaborator Dean Hurley sets the tonal and sonic landscape of each track on the album, lending a layered ether that envelops, frames and holds de Oliveira's vocals. With its impressionistic synths, shimmering guitars, and ethereal sonics, Oceans of Time at moments recalls the foundational dreampop of 4AD acts like Cocteau Twins and Lush. The album feels especially attuned to the connections between the physical and transcendental realms, and the best dreampop has a way of making the veil between two worlds feel just a little bit thinner. Oceans of Time is a key that has the power to release its listener from the handcuffs of reality, however briefly_

Repress!

Drum & Bass duo Dogger & Mindstate announce their concept EP 'Different Roads', which is due to be released on Amsterdam-based boutique label The North Quarter on September 24th. First linking on the skateboarding circuit, Dogger & Mindstate have become a household name in the Drum & Bass scene with a reputation for soulful, vocal lead tracks.

You gotta listen this ! Tribecore is not dead... It's reniewing here with a weird sound. Notice that B2 track melting some wobble to the beat. That's something musicians should dig : it brings the bass more concrete. Autoproduction is the authentic independant way.

Flora Yin Wong’s ravishing interiority finds lucid expression on an absorbing second album for Modern Love, manifesting her instrumental storytelling in a syncretic bind of supernatural themes with hyperrealist, concrète sound design.

Through ten parts, Flora crystallises the ennui that followed an uncanny, disorienting trip to East and Southeast Asia. “On an unexpected stopover in Hong Kong after five years away, my friends took me to a Bazi reader one night - something I was curious about, but much of a ritual for them - ” Flora recalls. “My father told me that when I was born, he had obtained an auspicious reading that since stayed like a guiding talisman with me. It was almost past midnight but people were still lined up, rather shaken and visibly upset, to see the old man. He had kind eyes and asked me why I was there and I said I was at a crossroads. He asked me my time and date of birth, and told me to pick one of his four little white canary birds as a vessel for divination.”

This was the final stretch of an ultimately aimless few months across the continent, including a 20 year overdue return with her father to his adoptive family in his hometown Kuala Lumpur - for many reasons, ended up as a strange and uncanny trip. She spent solitude in a haunted house during the quiet snowfall of Kyoto, where she might have offended some spirit... and nights in mountain temples with South Korean monks, and an equally strange feeling return to the Island of the Gods.

“It culminated in what felt like a final disillusionment with Asia - sudden deaths and a breakdown in beliefs - somewhere I never really have or will be able to connect with. The process of the reading summoned a final blow to my gut - an overwhelming sense of rootlessness, and understanding that all there is is emptiness and entropy. No birth-divined protection, just a measurement of the night sky based off nothing and everything.”

Heavy with a sense of nightmarish dissociation and grief, Flora read about Giuseppe Tartini’s ‘Violin Sonata in G Minor’, aka the Devil’s Trill Sonata, a notoriously tricky c.18th composition which attempted to transcribe music heard in a dream, which the composer felt he could never fully bring into reality. It’s this soporific motif that binds and underpins ’Cold Reading’, finding Flora chasing the dragon of fleeting fantasy through passages of etched melancholy, pinched with hypnagogic jerks that linger in the memory.

From her use of the ‘Devil’s Trill’ Sonata in ‘All My Dreams are Nightmares’ through evocations of subtropical humidity in the Bryn Jones-esque, resonant hand-played percussion of ‘Konna’ and ‘Banjar’, to a breathtaking dreampop denouement ‘Nectar Dripping’ and the Enya-like lush of ‘Beautiful Crisis’, Flora blooms her ideas with an openended ambiguity so often missing from so called Ambient music, ushering the listener into a soundworld that disturbs and displaces, just as much as it calms.

John Devecchis AKA The Owl takes flight once again here on his self titled label's 10th outing. Once again it is a head turning mix of disco and funk that carries on where his superb Concrete Funk album from 20121 left off. These are beefy cuts with authentic grooves, starting with the loose limbed playfulness of 'Shake It'. There is a more heavy, purposeful chug to 'Follow Me' which comes alive with lush strings and perfect soul vocals. 'Always Be There' leans into a house groove with noodling guitar riffs a la Chic and 'The Way' is a nice leggy and elastic pumper with expressive diva wails. Super stuff.

Long regarded as one of the OG Heavyweights of the SBDM scene, KRAANIUM are the epitome of what Slamming Brutal Death Metal is supposed to be. Abhorrent lyrics, disgusting vocals and brutal cacophony... Coming out of Norway, but with members from across Europe, KRAANIUM mix a putrid blend of acid gargling gutterals, concrete heavy slams and machine gun blastbeats into what can only be described as one of the heaviest bands Europe has to offer. 'Scriptures of Vicennial Defilement' bludgeons the listener in the most barbaric way possible and does not let up for a second. A future genre classic.

Jake Muir's latest set of soft-focus, sensual electro-concrète, dissolves X-rated gay sleaze flick soundtracks into a shimmering suite of subdued orchestral flourishes and surreal cosmic psychedelia.

Back in 2020, Muir put together a 90-minute mix for Honey Soundsystem, blending tracks from Kelman Duran, DJ Olive, Daniel Lanois and Terre Thaemlitz with obliquely camp dialog samples from vintage gay porn. The idea was to represent queer sexuality in a looser, more experimental manner, grazing the super-sensory pleasure of the bathhouse experience and the illicit joy of cruising without getting too self-serious while doing it. The mix was so popular that Muir followed it up with a weightless sequel two years later, and began developing the concept into a proper album, using more samples of music and dialogue, eventually performing the piece at the esteemed GRM as part of their FOCUS #4 concerts alongside work by Eliane Radigue, Folke Rabe and Chris Watson.

Bathhouse Blues is split into two side-long pieces that wash and ripple with nervous tension and discreet salaciousness. Opening with a familiar theatre sting, there are echoes here of kosmische and experimental electronics on 'Cruisin’ 87', fashioned into puddles of syrupy, back-room ambience. Occasionally we hear lascivious words thru the fog, men mumbling to each other before sex. "That's beautiful," a voice mutters over a dusky cricket chirp on 'Pipe Dream'. "It is," another replies.

Muir's sonic treatment is suitably explicit, like a 1950s Hollywood jump-cut to a train going into a tunnel; he takes the whole-body, mutual release of queer sex and interprets it with heady gestures, peppering jazzy rhythmic frostings into basins of skewered drone and gurgling synths. His sound is coloured by the pleasure of physical touch, a mussy flux of high frequency scrapes and caresses juxtaposed with woozy, dubbed-out fondles and thrusts. Who said the GRM was buttoned up?