Suche:eliane radigue

Sounds While Waiting documents the latest organ works by composer and musician Ellen Arkbro – following her phenomenal debut, 2017's For Organ And Brass, and the more recent CHORDS. Recorded at a centuries-old church in Unnaryd, Sweden in June 2020, these pieces reveal the enchanting qualities of sustained harmonic sound, how patterns of listening dissolve and emerge as textured space. On opening track "Changes," long radiant tones ebb and flow like divine breaths, while "Leaving Dreaming" builds with dynamic tension to unlock a subtle, otherworldly ambience.

As the composer states in the sleeve notes, "These recordings are traces of something I have come to love to do in large resonant spaces, which is to set up sustained chords on multiple organs and then move slowly through the sound. The instruments are usually far apart, which makes for the emergence of large fields of continuous change, spaces of harmonicity that can be passed through layer by layer and which contain within them points of both clarity and overwhelming complexity. The organ pipes are tuned and retuned, though sometimes I leave them just as they are. What I'm searching for is the moment when a particular kind of sounding texturality is revealed – it is rough, focused and yet strangely transparent."

Arkbro composes for acoustic instruments, for synthetic sound and for combinations of both, including music for orchestra and smaller chamber ensembles and large scale installation works. She currently performs in Catherine Christer Hennix's Kamigaku ensemble, and she previously studied with La Monte Young and Marian Zazeela. Recommended for fans of Sarah Davachi, Eliane Radigue and Charlemagne Palestine.

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?

Brazilian experimental multi-instrumentalist Carla Boregas follows plates for Bokeh Versions and Hive Mind with a ghostly set of deep listening electronics that plays like a symphony for an imagined woodwind orchestra.

Carla Boregas is best known from her tenure in São Paulo's genre-bending experimental post-punk scene, playing in long-running outfit Rakta as well as other related offshoots. Her solo material has been knottier to unpick, here developing ideas from a collection of unfinished fragments and notebook scribbles exploring the possibility of finding a wind instrument that could be played collectively by several musicians. Coinciding with the pandemic, however, she soon realised the inherent risks involved with sharing breath and so the concept took a different direction, with added resonance.

Boregas developed a synthetic alternative, layering vocals and environmental recordings to suggest wind instrumentation without attempting to mimic it. The sounds here are airy, but rarely diegetic - on the title track, Boregas uses analog arpeggios and plucked, sustained tones to approximate the kosmische world of Ash Ra Tempel or more recently Emeralds, as if trapped in a wind tunnel, moved forward by an unseen force.

There's a whisper of the ancient past that harmonises with Wojciech Rusin's speculative medieval gasps, and Bloedneus & de Snuitkever's severely underheard ‘Milli Mille’, an examination of the ancient Greek aulos. On ’Grafia Do Invisível' the sound is completely different again, but the concept remains, using precise analog drones and minuscule timbral shifts to imitate the character of a wind instrument and simultaneously harmonise with the deep listening meditations of Éliane Radigue and Kali Malone.

A voice enters the frame on 'Sopro’, chopped into deviated gulps and syllables, creating a language that's unfamiliar and percussive. The use of breath is subtle, and vocalisations criss-cross between synths and faint whistles, forming an expression that's different from its predecessors but intrinsically interlinked. This is where ‘Pena Ao Mar’ excels, by viewing breath and its application in electronic music from multiple angles simultaneously. Fans of Lucy Duncombe, Lucrecia Dalt, or Sarah Davachi - don't miss this one.

Truly intrigued as a kid by the weird sounds his DIY electronica building kit could make, Mich L. (aka Mich Leemans of Paper Hats and curator of AB Salon) never stopped his quest for more beauty in hidden frequencies and harmonics of modular synths and old tape recorders.

His search into the deep mysterious sound spectrum unexpectedly made a surprising u-turn after a seizure of increasing tinnitus and enduring nausea.

The concept of listening, as stated by Pauline Oliveiros as 'the involuntary nature of hearing and the voluntary, selective nature of listening' took focus in his being.

These new insights, together with a studio rearrangement and the purchase of the EMS Synthi A are the keystones which shaped the contours of his debut solo album 'air near silence'

A precious, fragile and ultra personal sonic exploration of the inner self translated in carefully constructed synth and tape compositions : a microscopic auditive dissection of time and soul.

Slow burning stripped down shifting patterns, patched and wired straight from the heart, crawling steadily under your skin, with no plans to leave.

Hushed analogue splendor for patient music lovers who dare to be surprised.

File under:
deep immersive and profound listening, (dark) ambient, electronica, analogue synths, tape compositions

Recommended if you like:
Eliane Radigue, Coil, Kali Malone, Lucy Railton, The Caretaker, Pauline Oliveiros, BBC Radiophonic Workshop, Throbbing Ghristle, early electronics, DEATHPROD...

South-east Turkey born DJ, sound artist and producer Banu uses music as a political tool. For her, the strong message carried through sound is a vehicle to express emotions as well as a means of fighting against oppression. Using participation, social design, ecology, feminist and queer theory to create multimedia installations with sound as a main element, Banu‘s practice is closer to contemporary art and activist spaces than the club realm.

Banu‘s debut album TransSoundScapes is an exercise in female solidarity between her as a migrant woman and her sisters from the trans community, where an artist from one marginalised group is showing support towards her trans sisters, using her platform to help them amplify their voices and building a bridge towards a mutual understanding of femininity.

Conceptually, TransSoundScapes comes in continuation of Banu‘s previous research-based work, using music as a positive tool for change while working with various marginalised communities. The album originated from the very real experience of being confronted with verbal harassment in Berlin on a daily basis, particularly aimed at her transfeminine friends and companions. As a queer woman of Turkish and Kurdish origin, Banu did not only observe the verbal aggression directed at her friends, but also understood most of the insults shouted in languages such as Arabic. Seeing how she got signifi cantly more verbal violence directed at them when in company of trans people made a lasting impression on her, so she wanted to try and use her relative privilege to amplify transfeminine voices through her music.

Coming from a very conservative family, making music has been her lifelong dream. It was the moment she had the opportunity to work with the iconic Arp 2600 synthesiser (a younger sibling to Eliane Radigue‘s infamous 2500 machine) that all her disparate interests came into place to create an empowering soundscape with the aid of analogue drum machines. TransSoundScapes has a very full, porous sound, where every element that comes into play sounds soft yet clear. Across the 7 tracks, Banu conjures pounding subterraneous bassy techno („Surgery“), slithering tentacular EBM („First Time“) and pulsating cavernous soundscapes („Harem“), where oversized dancefl oor elements are woven with poetic spoken word passages, resulting in sensusous yet political anthems. Banu artfully merges loosely related genres such as techno, electro, dub and sound poems into a sound that is at once deeply personal and extremely compelling.

All of the tracks are collaborative efforts, Banu seeing the process as an exchange of care and shared experiences, while integrating research into her writing process. The lyrics in „Transition (part 1+2)‘‘ are an adaptation of Sara Ahmed’s “Living a Feminist Life”, while „Surgery“ was born out of series of interviews with trans people, channeling the metallic sounds of a surgery room to refer to society‘s perception of transness as a medical condition. Tracks like „First Time feat. Patricia“, „Harem feat. Prince Emrah“ or „We feat. Aérea Negrot“ document her encounters with various trans women, centering their life experiences while also developing a deep dialogue through the process of making music together.

The darkest and perhaps the most emblematic track is ‚‘Bianka (In Memory Of)‘‘, dedicated to the late Bianka Shigurova, a 22-year old Georgian actress found dead in her apartment. It was her Tbilisi photographer friend George Nebriedze who told her Bianka‘s tragic story, whose death is suspected to be an assasination due to transphobia. Banu chose one of Nebriedze‘s analogue photos of Bianka as the album‘s cover art.

The seductive first full-length from electronic composer and multi-disciplinary visual artist Amosphère. Born in China, partly educated in Japan and now residing in Paris, her work came to the attention of a wider circle of listeners when she was invited by Laurel Halo to perform as part of a 10-hour durational ambient concert at London's Mode Exchange in 2019. Amosphère uses a careful selection of vintage electronics, sophisticated harmonic sense, and keen compositional intelligence to invite listeners into a meditative sonic space. Time expands and contracts, simplicity reveals complexity, and repetition becomes patient transformation. Spreading out over six expansive yet self-contained tracks, more die of heartbreak serves as a perfect introduction to Amosphère's warmly enveloping approach to analogue sound. Developed from scores (contained in the accompanying booklet) using techniques from concrete poetry and graphic notation as well as fragments of traditionally notated material, these six pieces take in a broad sweep of moods and approaches, from the gently burbling layered monophonic patterns of the opening 'circuit of unconsciousness', reminiscent of the sun-drenched synth figures of 70s Alvin Curran, to the haunted gliding tones and reverberating pops of the closing 'melting a piece of cadmium'. At times starkly minimal and making bold use of the stereo field, Amosphère's production approach keeps the grit and grain of her analogue gear intact, at times calling to mind the work of pioneers like Delia Derbyshire and Eliane Radigue.

After moving to California, he was introduced to the Serge Modular Synthesizer through Eliane Radigue and registered for classes in all the colleges of the Bay where there was an Electronic Music Department so that he could use their various electronic instruments. At first, he often plugged in his electric guitar into these monsters rather than use the rather rigid sequencers, but through tape recorders and the delay techniques used by Terry Riley, he was able to quickly combine these “sound producing devices” to create his own music.

He eventually released his first “official” album named simply Music by Xolotl in 1977. Originally issued only in cassette, Wah Wah offers the chance of listening to these works on vinyl format for the first time ever on an LP + bonus 7" edition to fit all the sounds from the cassette.

A strictly limited edition of only 500 and with new artwork featuring one of Xolotl's cosmic paintings and an insert with photos and liner notes.

Whereas many electronic producers aim at being the most prolific in their genre, or the most extreme, Lucy and Rrose have wisely chosen to be the most consistently curiosity-provoking representatives of their craft.


Whereas many electronic producers aim at being the most prolific in their genre, or the most extreme, Lucy and Rrose have wisely chosen to be the most consistently curiosity-provoking representatives of their craft. Their decision to team up as a production duo for the newest Stroboscopic Artefacts EP may have seemed inevitable, given their shared responsibility for shifting techno's focus towards the facilitation of profound psycho-acoustic effects. And yet, even those who saw this coming will still be in for a wild ride.

Lucy's skill as a studio technician - displayed capably over his trilogy of full-length albums - has always been enhanced by his skill as a storyteller and as an artist with reverence towards myths and the pull of the unknown. This sonic personality is a perfect complement to the scientific severity of Rrose, for whom the electronic pulse beat and subsonic massage permit entry to a febrile psychic landscape whose contents are never entirely what the individual listener might expect or be prepared for.

As with both of the artists' solo offerings, these recordings feel as much like the branching off point for new creative acts rather than as objects to be passively enjoyed. As such, the opening "Chloroform" is a somewhat ironic title for a piece that is anything but anesthetic: at high volumes, its monstrous low-end surge and prickly, scintillating sonic ephemera are very likely to bring attention to otherwise imperceptible phenomena. "Peeling" continues in this style with a more urgent tempo, developing its own cascade of sensory impressions from seemingly unstable deep-bass loops, injections of intentional surface noise, and pitch-shifted / harmonizer-effected phantom phrases.

"Stained Glass," maybe the most straight-ahead piece on the record, is still a potent distortion of the mundane primed with shivering bell tones, tamed feedback and hints of speaker cones fraying. The climactic "Foil Gardens" is an elegant study in harmonics whose time-dissolving ability nods to the works of composers like Charlemagne Palestine or Eliane Radigue, without being a pure homage to either. The undertow of distortion beneath the glistening tone waves, in particular, provides a distinct update to the legacy of so-called
tonal 'minimalism'.

The end result here is a record that feels uncannily lifelike: an organism that always seems on the verge of a heuristic breakthrough, and whose full potential may not even be known by its creators.

Words by Thomas Bey William Bailey

Composed by Auvinen

Mastered by Denis Blackham at Skye Mastering, June 2020

Cut by Andreas Kauffelt at Schnitstelle, Berlin, June 2020

Johannes Auvinen has been a one man acid king for over a decade producing a wealth of acid and acid house under the moniker Tin Man. For this new release on Editions Mego he navigates an entirely different zone. Drawing on the history of electronic musik Akkosaari is a transcendental journey far from the sensual frenzy of sweaty acid drenched dancefloors we are accustomed to with his work. Akkosaari lies in the middle of the kosmic komische of Ash Ra Temple's Jenseits, the weightless transcendentalism of Eliane Radigue's Trilogie De Morts and the more glacial output of the Sähkö catalogue. The pace is gentle as the listener is drawn further into a world unlike the one we inhabit, these machines are more second life than one's emulating real life. The fantastic potential for audio induced visions are at play in this adventure in music as mind travel. On Kyläläiset Tanssii a measured pulse acts as a means of navigation before Susi spirals out clouds of sound. By the time we get to Kelluminen we are deeply within an unfamiliar state prior to landing in the heavenly plateau of Akkosaari. Throughout Akkosaari we are bathed in enrapturing and enveloping mists of psychedelic haze which take the listener on a vivid mental journey. This is intoxicating head music unfolding like an astral ascension and like any trip warrants repeat visitation.

Pale Bloom finds Sarah Davachi coming full circle. After abandoning the piano studies of her youth for a series of albums utilizing everything from pipe and reed organs to analog synthesizers, this prolific Los Angeles-based composer returns to her first instrument for a radiant work of quiet minimalism and poetic rumination.

Recorded at Berkeley, California's famed Fantasy Studios, Pale Bloom is comprised of two delicately-arranged sides. The first – a three-part suite where Davachi's piano acts as conjurer, beckoning Hammond organ and stirring countertenor into a patiently unfolding congress – recalls Eduard Artemiev's majestic soundtrack for Andrei Tarkovsky's Solaris. "Perfumes I-III" employs the harmonically rich music of Bach as a springboard for abstract, solemn pieces that sound as haunted as they are dreamlike.

While the first half of Pale Bloom showcases Davachi's latent Romanticism, the sidelong "If It Pleased Me To Appear To You Wrapped In This Drapery" reveals the Mills College graduate's affinity for the work of avant-garde composers La Monte Young and Eliane Radigue. Softly vibrating strings rise and fall like complementary exhalations of breath. As the fluctuating pitches create overtones that pitter and pulse, the piece slowly and subtly evolves – suggesting a well-tempered stillness, yet without stasis.

Pale Bloom finds Sarah Davachi coming full circle. After abandoning the piano studies of her youth for a series of albums utilizing everything from pipe and reed organs to analog synthesizers, this prolific Los Angeles-based composer returns to her first instrument for a radiant work of quiet minimalism and poetic rumination.

Recorded at Berkeley, California's famed Fantasy Studios, Pale Bloom is comprised of two delicately-arranged sides. The first – a three-part suite where Davachi's piano acts as conjurer, beckoning Hammond organ and stirring countertenor into a patiently unfolding congress – recalls Eduard Artemiev's majestic soundtrack for Andrei Tarkovsky's Solaris. "Perfumes I-III" employs the harmonically rich music of Bach as a springboard for abstract, solemn pieces that sound as haunted as they are dreamlike.

While the first half of Pale Bloom showcases Davachi's latent Romanticism, the sidelong "If It Pleased Me To Appear To You Wrapped In This Drapery" reveals the Mills College graduate's affinity for the work of avant-garde composers La Monte Young and Eliane Radigue. Softly vibrating strings rise and fall like complementary exhalations of breath. As the fluctuating pitches create overtones that pitter and pulse, the piece slowly and subtly evolves – suggesting a well-tempered stillness, yet without stasis.

The California-born, London-based producer Rrose is well known for taking dancefloor techno into the uncharted depths of experimentalism and psychedelia while also paying homage to artists of the 20th century avant-garde such as Marcel Duchamp, James Tenney, and Eliane Radigue.

"Beware of Shells" (the first solo Rrose release of 2018) is a diverse five track EP that goes to extremes of both aggression and tranquility while remaining strangely cohesive. The EP opens with machine gun bass drums that slowly disintegrate into a swirl of undulating tones and ghostly resonances. Next comes "Incisors" - the most solidly dancefloor track of the EP - which establishes a primal, skeletal rhythmic base upon which snake-like analog synth lines interweave in unpredictable ways. "The Swelling" follows with a short, sparse study in feedback, bent into uneasy melodic patterns. Side B opens with a previously unreleased 2013 remix of the Los Angeles band Deathday, and is perhaps Rrose's most overtly "industrial" track to date, with buzzing, dissonant synth tones that sound somewhere between a foghorn and a distorted guitar. The EP finishes on a contemplative note with "Pecking Order," a microtonal, ritualistic affair conjuring the spirit of Wendy Carlos's little-known masterpiece "Beauty in the Beast."

"Inhabiting this grey area between late psych efforts and early PINA (private issue new age), 1977's Pythagoron TM is an electronic oddity originally marketed as some sort of musical narcotic ( a new invention that gets you high with sound' original ads read) sold via magazines like High Times.

Shrouded by it's corporate-like design are two enigmatic side long suites of droning electronics which evoke similar autistic synth experiences like early Conrad Schnitzler, Lorq Damon, Udder Milk Decay or the whole Pascal / Narco Records output whilst recalling also more articulate efforts such as Steve Reich's early opus, Charlemagne Palestine's sinewave experiments or Eliane Radigue's synthetic bliss.

A truly bizarre artifact which was apparently the brainchild of NYC's early media art collective USCO (The Company Of Us) which already pionered inmersive sound/light environments fusing mysticism and state-of-the-art technology back in the 60's. Intriguing period piece."

Raül G. Pratginestós (Fauni Gena)

Comes in original artwork printed on silver cover in a limited edition of 500 copies only.