Suche:hallucinator

Leng Records has long had close ties with the underground music scene in San Francisco, with low-slung dub disco and psychedelic disco outfit 40 Thieves releasing their acclaimed album The Sky Is Yours on the imprint way back in 2014. Now Leng has turned to another stalwart of the Bay Area scene, Cole Odin, on a single that’s every bit as trippy and engrossing as you’d expect from one of San Francisco’s most frequently overlooked talents. Cole made his Leng debut earlier in the year, contributing the electro-influenced track ‘Numbers Game’ to the label’s 10th anniversary compilation. On ‘Little Boxes’, he’s joined by good friend Eddie C, a much-loved disco and house producer from Canada best known for his releases on Endless Flight and Red Motorbike. The pair recorded the track while Eddie was staying with Cole in San Francisco last year.



In keeping with the low-slung, hallucinatory sound that has always been a big feature of the San Franciscan scene, ‘Little Boxes’ is a trippy, mind-altering affair in which waves of sitar sounds, cosmic synths, effects-laden guitars and kaleidoscopic electronics rise above a weighty punk-funk bassline and crunchy, snare-heavy beats. It has serious dancefloor chops but is also atmospheric and immersive: perfect 5am music for Bay Area beach parties and mushrooms-fuelled forest raves.



Fittingly, it’s 40 Thieves who provide the accompanying remix, a 10-minute epic created with the assistance of Adonis and Rodney from the psych rock band ‘Guavatron’ for additional synths and the guitars. Beginning with tabla-style percussion, swirling chords, psychedelic guitar licks and mystical sitar sounds, the remix builds in waves, with looser drums and even weightier bass propelling the track forwards at a metronomic and hypnotic pace. By the time the eyes-closed guitar solos drop two thirds of the way through, you’ll be tripping hard and reaching for the lasers. It’s a genuinely stunning remix of a genuinely intoxicating, mind-mangling track.

Spoken word version of Steve Von Till's first poetry book. Limited, one-sided + etched.
Intimate voice recordings with hallucinatory textures and treatments.
Harvestman: 23 Poems Poems & Collected lyrics received wide acclaim establishing Von Till as a poet in his own right.
Side B LP etching artwork by Matzatl
Features stunning linocut artwork by Matzatl on the cover.
In 2020 Steve Von Till published his first book of poetry, Harvestman: 23 Untitled Poems and Collected Lyrics. Published by the University of South Dakota’s Astrophil Press, the book established Von Till as a formidable and thoughtful author of verse—a fact that Neurosis fans knew all along, but the wider world was only just becoming aware of.
“There is a depth of hope, acceptance and loss that permeates these poems,” Joseph Haeger said in his review for The Inlander. “Like any great piece of art, Harvestman contains multitudes, and that’s exactly what I was hoping for when I cracked it open. Von Till has already established himself as a great musician, and he’s about to put his stake into the ground proving himself to be a damn good writer.”
For 2021, Von Till has reimagined Harvestman in a new format, delivering an intimate and captivating reading of the collection with sound enhancements. “Being a constant sound-seeker, I thought it would be more interesting to have some textures and treatments to break up the intimate voice recordings,” Von Till says of his decision to add some atmosphere to the spoken-word version of Harvestman. “The background sounds used on some of the tracks were pieces related to No Wilderness Deep Enough that were either not used or repurposed to interweave further connections between my artistic output at this time of my life.”

Ambient instrumental version of Steve Von Till’s previous release No Wilderness Deep Enough.
Limited Violet Colour Vinyl.
For fans of Neurosis, Jóhann Jóhannsson, Ólafur Arnalds, Nick Cave & Warren Ellis, Brian Eno.

“Von Till has delved into prolonged and hypnotic expressions of darkness and decay...achingly slow post-classical hues (glissandro strings, mournful horns, reverb piano) fusing intimacy to grandeur. But the most stentorian, weariest voice imaginable - graver even than Mark Lanegan - and the existential dread of his words equally chills to the bones.” 4/5 MOJO (No Wilderness Deep Enough)
Steve Von Till has made a life’s work out of seeking the elemental. With a solo discography that stretches back more than two decades, he has toiled in a shadow realm, peeling back layers of reality in a never-ending search for true meaning and raw emotion. A Deep Voiceless Wilderness strips back the veil even further. An achingly beautiful ambient work with neo-classical leanings, the album is a hallucinatory and elegant rumination on our disconnect from the natural world, each other, and ultimately ourselves.
For some listeners, the album may recall the work of modern composers like Jóhann Jóhannsson, Brian Eno or Gavin Bryars. For Von Till, it’s about surrendering to the spirit of place—and to the original intent behind his 2020 solo album, No Wilderness Deep Enough. That album marked a significant first for Von Till: It was his first solo record without a guitar in hand. Instead, Von Till intoned powerful and thought-provoking lyrics over piano, cello, mellotron and analog synthesizers. A Deep Voiceless Wilderness is that same album without Von Till’s words.
“This is how I originally heard this piece of music,” he says. “Without the voice as an anchor or earthbound narrative, these pieces have a broader wingspan. They become something else entirely and unfold in a more expansive way. The depth of the synths, juxtaposed with the strings and French horn, have space to develop and allow the listener to imagine their own story.”

Dalhous end the 5-year silence with the long awaited follow up to 2016's House Number 44, presenting the second volume of The Composite Moods Collection. "Point Blank Range" reinterprets the established narrative with an inverse look at the proceedings. Taking the “point of view of the disease", the perspective is now turned inside out, revealing an alternate account from the eyes of the photographed subject of House Number 44. If Vol.1 was a documented presentation of another person's condition, Vol.2 takes the listener behind the facade.

From the outset, the album offers a narratively uncooperative stance, weaving together layers of anxiety and painful specificity that often overtly manifests the psychotic protagonist's stormy interior state. A clearly subjective assault, which is made evident right from opening track 'Transceivers' through to the imploding nature of 'Intramuscular Administration’, to the vulnerable, psychedelic mania of 'Open As A Glade Unfolding'. Continuing to work within the framework of a soundtrack-like structure, Dalhous ramps things up to provide the aural equivalent of sound and picture, manifesting an almost quasi-visual experience.

The entire record can be listened to as a continuous piece, each track seamlessly linked together as though part of an interconnecting nervous system. Where House Number 44 offered airy, widescreen soundscapes of detached detail, Point Blank Range presents an altogether different form. Creating airtight vacuums of agitated twitching feeling, tracks are pulled to the forefront of the stereo field, continually mutating their densely painted neurochemical hallucinations with a breadth of sound previously unheard on previous releases.

Listeners will be able to decipher nods to long standing soundtrack influences from composers such as Fabio Frizzi, with his use of strikingly bold and haunting melodies, to Tangerine Dream’s distinctively foggy atmospheres of The Keep. There are moments that evoke the nihilistic drones of Brian Gascoigne’s soundtrack to Phase IV, and the more horrific passages of metal clanging ambience from the likes of Chu Ishikawa with his scores for Shinya Tsukamoto.

After their former record label Blackest Ever Black disbanded, Dalhous found themselves out on a limb. It took 5 years to find a new home with Denovali. Given the unusually extended period between records, Dalhous had the time to dive deeper into the material, rendering a level of experimentation previously unavailable to them. Over 4 hours of material was created, a total of 1TB of data. Countless revisions to the track listing ensued with some of the unused material being reutilised in the making of the final chapter in the trilogy to form a direct companion piece.

Limited editon LP format with extra heavy textured jackets and metallic silver ink. LP includes 12" square insert with lyrics and images of the artist, and download. The raw inspiration for Vague Tidings came from a 2006 DIY tour of the 49th state. It was a trip that went off the beaten path-sometimes a bit too far for comfort. Now, over a decade later, listeners find Joe O'Connell aka Elephant Micah stationed at a creaky spinet piano, singing about the Alaskan sky. Throughout, his lyrics take a new angle on a pet theme: human encounters with the natural world. Vague Tidings places these encounters in the American West and, at times, in its sci-fi corollary, outer space. Its imagery draws from the allure of Alaska, the idea of Western prosperity, and the human relationship to wilderness more broadly. Often, O'Connell sings about the goal of capturing and commodifying nature. In poetic sketches of resource extraction industries and dark sky tourism, frontier lust runs amok. Pipelines catch fire and stars disappear, all to the tune of a stark, uncanny Americana. Vague Tidings is a sustained, hallucinatory rendering of this theme. In style, its eight songs follow a switchback path between foggy incantations and mountain anthems. Made with a small cohort of acoustic instrumentalists, the record is rough hewn, but easy on the ears. To put Vague Tidings down on tape, O'Connell assembled some of his favorite musicians in Raleigh-Durham, North Carolina area, where he's lived since 2015: Libby Rodenbough (Mipso) bows and plucks a detuned fiddle, Matt Douglas (Mountain Goats) breathes life into various woodwinds, and Matt O'Connell (Lean Year) sets the pace on a two-piece drum set. Their loose, imaginative playing pushes Vague Tidings beyond the singer-songwriter genre into something richer in texture. Ultimately, this is foreboding but spacious music, with plenty of room for reconsidering life on earth. R.I.Y.L. Jason Molina, Bonnie Prince Billy, Bill Callahan, Damien Jurado.

“Maestro melodist Christophe Petchanatz (aka Klimperei) and all around music fanatic David Fenech engage remotely in a repetitive exchange of recordings and overdubs on their debut album titled ‘Rainbow de Nuit’, sporadically spanning over the last decade. Evocations of experimental and improvised jazz, chansonesque songs, bluesy folk, and outsider music undulate harmoniously across the record. From music boxes and walkie-talkies down to plastic straws, plucking various stringed instruments such as the charrango and banjo, kazoos and snake-charmer ocarina and flutes, all the way through the sweet accordion and melodica, found and traditional tuned percussion - there is far from a shortage of sound sources on this freakishly inviting record. What germinates as an imaginative and emotional chord progression played by Klimperei, evolves with Fenech layering additional recordings, which would then find their way back home to Klimperei yet again, and so on, and so forth. This recursive compositional and improvisational loop, combined with Fenech’s musique-concrete-like mixing and editing techniques, transforms the acoustic recordings by way of compression, saturation, and reverberation or simple pitch changes - resulting in the duo’s recordings seemingly sound like they may very well be an octet in real time. While the majority of the recordings have been ping-ponged remotely, David and Christophe unite under one roof to record the closing track of the album.

The pieces presented on ‘Rainbow de Nuit’ treat the ears to a carousel ride waltzing through a multiverse made up of surrealist puppet theaters, dramatic film noir act changes, and a mosaic of polyphonic instruments and toys alike. In other words, a score to a fable brought to life with haunting yet charming melodies and occasional hallucinatory voices reminiscent of laughter and infantile epiphanies which we hear on Tarzan en Tasmanie and Madrigal for Lola. This is taken a step further by Fenech, to a brief libretto of incomprehensible tongues on Pocarina. Amid the mysterious and dark (Septième Ciel and Rugit Le Coeur) also lies tender and simple compositions (Rainbow de Nuit and Chevalier Gambette), murky suspenseful melancholy (Levy Attend and Eno Ennio), and casually slipping into pensive psychedelic backdrops (Un Cercueil à Deux Places) - forming a colorful blend of sounds. A world of echoes. A tale of tales. One persistent earworm that you’ll likely be whistling and humming along to on a first listen.”

Legendary Chicagoan General Juke aka Gant-Man returns with Distorted Sensory, his brand new acid house adventure. A longtime veteran who's been behind the decks since before he was even a teen, he's been an essential part of Chicago dance music history since the Dance Mania days in the mid 90s, and a major pioneer in jumpstarting the juke movement that followed. This new single, and his debut solo releaseon the Teklife imprint explores the time honored tradition of jacking, channeling the very essence of house music though a modern lens. Employing an enigmatic 303 bassline that mutates and breathes as if it were alive, Gant plays malicious melodies that run up and down octaves in a freaky, hallucinatory manner. Squelchy synth movements are met by eerie FM tones, reminiscent of Cajmere's classic Chicago staple the Percolator. A rugged 909 drum kit bangs the track along in true jacking fashion, making it the perfect tool for shaking the floors of dark, sweaty warehouses. In addition to the original, two of the UK's finest contribute remixes as well. Hyperdub boss Kode9 puts things into overdrive with his 160 BPM warped vision of Gant's acid, sliced up to appeal more to the footworkers and fans of psycho tempos. Dubstep pioneer Loefah strips back the original percussion and lets the 303s float over a cloud of deep sub bass, adorned with lovely splashes of rolling snares and micro percussion. With an array of stone cold classics under his belt, from ghetto house anthem Juke Dat Girl to his brilliant collabs with the late DJ Rashad Heaven Sent and Juke Dat Juke Dat, Gant-Man is a true renaissance man. For over 20 years, he's consistently shown the world the complexity that makes up his city's dance culture, never sticking to one area or tempo. Distorted Sensory is a beautiful celebration of Chicago house music, a return to its true raw design, and a reminder of just how timeless an art form it really is.

Statistique Synthétique draws as much from the history of computer sound synthesis as from its latest developments. But well beyond developing simply as a proof of concept, this piece aims to transcend the abstract status of synthetic sound objects and lead them to a properly hallucinatory state, that is to say to a meeting point where the object and perception dissolve into each other, in a sort of transcendental field. Beyond, also, hylomorphism, to reach the world of matter-form fusions, where perception knows how to see "shoulders of hills", as Cézanne wrote.
Teum (the Silvery Slit) is, as the title suggests, an overture, an opening to the game of multiplications, fragmentations, duplications. But it is also the opening understood as the void that blossoms between two borders, a break from which escapes a double tension, both the pulling force of these two edges which move apart and the opposite force of reconciliation, of compression. Okkyung Lee invites us to a truly telluric moment, a rare moment of expression where tectonic movements and shear stresses become music. If the earthquakes were, as we thought in the 18th century, due to underground thunderstorms, there is no doubt that this piece of music, both celestial and continental, could have been their audible manifestation.
Text by François Bonnet


HeckerStatistique Synthétique2020 / 25'15Computer-generated sound with resynthesized situated texture recordingsWritten and produced by Florian Hecker, 2019 - 2020Texture analysis and resynthesis algorithm: Axel Röbel, Analysis/Synthesis Team, IRCAM, ParisMastered by Rashad BeckerPhoto by Mauricio Guillén, 2019
Thanks to Axel Röbel for his commitment to the project and special appreciation to GRM, Luke Fowler, Mauricio Guillén, Dirk Mayer and Porta33
Location Texture Recordings, using DPA 4060, DPA 4017B, DPA 4021 and DPA 4060 microphones to Sound Devices 702 recorder; except segment 04:31 - 05:37, recorded by Luke Fowler, April 2019 using Sony M10.
00:00 - 02:00 Lopud, Croatia, June 200802:00 - 03:12 Ponta do Sol, Madeira, ER 101, April 201903:12 - 04:14 Prentiss St, Cambridge, MA, February 201504:14 - 04:31 Anjos, Ponta do Sol, Madeira, ER 101, April 201904:31 - 05:37 Atelier Cézanne, Aix-en-Provence, April 201905:37 - 08:31 Anjos, Ponta do Sol, Madeira, ER 101, April 201908:31 - 09:46 Praia dos Anjos, Ponta do Sol, Madeira, ER 101, April 201909:46 - 10:39 Private garden, Kissing, September 200910:39 - 11:15 Praia dos Anjos, Ponta do Sol, Madeira, ER 101, April 201911:15 - 15:11 Porto do Paul do Mar, Calheta, Madeira, April 201915:11 - 16:53 Prinz Eugen Strasse, Vienna, June 200816:53 - 24:27 Risco, Rabaçal, Madeira, April 201924:27 - 25:15 Bois de Boulogne, Avenue du Mahatma Gandhi, Paris, September 2015
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Okkyung LeeTeum (the Silvery Slit)2019 / 20'03Performed, recorded and composed by Okkyung Lee (ASCAP)Mixed by Lasse MarhaugMastered by Guuseppe IelasiPhoto by Lasse MarhaugPart of Re-Imagine Europe, co-funded by the Creative Europe Programme of the European Union.

Cut by Andreas Kauffelt at Schnittstelle, Berlin, September 2020Sleeve design by Stephen O'Malley

Tape / Cassette

Dust Editions presents Evan Caminiti’s original score for the short film Autoscopy from London based director Claes Nordwall. The film premiered at the Nevada City Film Festival in August 2020 and is featured in the 2021 edition of the Slamdance Film Festival.

Autoscopy follows a young man who escapes to the Swedish wilderness for a period of creativity and introspection. The tranquility and isolation he finds there morphs into something more sinister when he discovers an abandoned flotation tank in the forest, leading him on a hallucinatory voyage deep into the heart of nature and his own psyche.

Caminiti’s score channels the beauty, desolation, and dread Nordwall captures in the film’s disorienting arc. Boundaries are dissolved between the organic and the unnatural, the imagined and the experienced; electric guitar dissolves into spectral whispers, blurring into rippling synthesizers and heaving drones. Caminiti explores dissonance and space, veering into realms of extreme digital deconstruction before plunging into amplifier sizzling abandon.

This OST release features three additional pieces not heard in the film.

Serge Synthesizer Recorded at EMS Stockholm, September 2017
Electric guitar, vocals, additional synthesizers recorded at Spider House, Los Angeles 2020.
Arranged and produced at Spider House, Los Angeles, 2020

Mastered by Stephan Mathieu at Schwebung Mastering

As has often been noted, psychedelic music can involve causal links between getting out of it and getting into it. Conversely, expansion of consciousness can be found by heading deep into the roots that a band explores, and journeying to the centre of their inspiration. Thus, a curious paradox is attained, whereby the traditional elements of an outfit’s sound are superseded by them blasting their core vibrations into unchartered territory. Such is the case with the new opus from third-eye visionaries Hills, a dizzying journey that traverses through the band’s origins and beyond to new dimensions.The Gothenburg-based Hills are entering their ninth year of existence, in which they’ve released two full-length albums, the second of which, ‘Master Sleeps’ saw a vinyl outing on Rocket last year. Part of a rich scene in their homestead also including friends and Rocket Recordings label mates Goat, they form the new chapter in a tradition of Swedish psychedelia that found its origins in late-’60s and early ‘70s freakouts and mind-melts by the likes of Baby Grandmothers and Älgarnas Trädgård - not to mention the unholy trinity of Pärson Sound, International Harvester and Träd Gräs och Stenar - before being developed by the likes of The Spacious Mind and Dungen in the last two decades. These inspirations make their mark on ‘Frid’ by journeying inward, via mantric repetition and hip-shaking pulsations as on the ten-minute monolith, ‘ Och Solen Sänkte Sig Röd’, yet they can also lurch into the unknown via the fuzz/wah odysseys of the aptly monikered ‘National Drone’ and the ceremonial exhortations of the closing ‘Death Will Find A Way.’As they also showed recently at a rare and spellbinding appearance at Liverpool International Festival Of Psychedelia, Hills have landed on a rich and intoxicating sound that sidesteps the cliches and humdrum stylistic foibles that often plague modern-day psych, in the process breathing new life into an approach that can sometimes seem in danger of appearing redundant through lack of imagination. ‘Frid’, their most out-of-mind and out-of-sight effort to date, crystallises everything that makes these Scandinavian satyrs stand out from the global herd; adventurous experimentation and fearless hallucinatory intensity, rendered with brass-knuckle fortitude. The end result is 38 minutes that translate into a feast for seasoned crate-diggers and fresh-faced converts alike. There is, indeed, gold in these here Hills.

Growing up in deindustrialized Providence, Rhode Island of the 1970s and 1980s provided NYC-based composer and interdisciplinary artist Gavilán Rayna Russom access to derelict subterranean spaces including the mile-long East Side Rail Tunnel. The tunnel's reverberant darkness would produce distinctive sensory effects and host Russom's formative experiences of interpersonal connectedness, liminality, transgender identity, anti-capitalist desire and state repression.

Secret Passage – an absorbing, memoiristic work by Russom, whose synthesis-based practice fuses information and expression into organic wholes – draws on memories of "unsupervised autonomous zones where I tasted the possibilities of a world without surveillance," as she writes in the liner notes. Inspired by "this beautifully neglected place," the music resounds with ghostlike echoes and raw pulsations.

Russom utilizes synthesizers, field recordings and voice to illustrate hallucinatory revelations of the city's lightless undercarriage. Each track of Secret Passage, originally released as a limited cassette on Voluminous Arts, is dedicated to a friend – entwining personal liberation with collective discovery. The East Side Rail Tunnel has been inaccessible since the 1990s, the result of urban development and gentrification.

Mort Garson’s road to cool cultural caché and the sublimity of Plantasia meant a decades’ long journey through an underworld of sophisticated, international, string-laced dreck (i.e., your great-grandparents’ record collection) to arrive at Music from Patch Cord Productions, this set of queasy-listening you now hold.

Music from Patch Cord Productions shows that Garson’s knack was to exist in both worlds, super-commercial and waaay out. He cut delirious minute-long blasts for commercials (as to whether or not they were actually ever aired remains unknown) and spacecraft-hovering études. Were there really account managers out there in the early ’70s that gave the greenlight to these commercial compositions which seemed to anticipate everyone from John Carpenter to Suicide? What were these campaigns actually for, Soylent Green? Regardless, Mort’s jingle work laid the groundwork for the future. As Robert Moog himself noted: “The jingles were important because they domesticated the sound.” Via Garson’s wizardry, the synthesizer transcended novelty to ubiquity and dominance.

Other curios and questions abound. How did Garson’s arrangement work for Arthur Prysock’s satiny body worship album This Is My Beloved transmogrify into the body-snatcher pulses of “This is My Beloved”? Are the two pieces even related? What is the IATA code for the airport of “Realizations of an Aeropolis”? What denomination is the “Cathedral of Pleasure”? If “Son of Blob” sounds like a hallucinatory melted ice cream truck theme, what on earth does Blob’s father sound like? Every sound wrangled out of that Moog by Garson pushes things further and further out.

Of course, these are all questions that may never get answers, as Garson wasn’t the most organized modern day composer, busy as he was conjuring strange new realms with his circuit boards and synths. He worked and wrote right up until his death in 2008, his daughter and Sacred Bones still going through all of the material left behind. He wouldn’t live to see it, but his renaissance was just around the corner, the seeds that had been scattered in record bins around the world suddenly coming to bear fruit. Take a bite!

Mort Garson’s road to cool cultural caché and the sublimity of Plantasia meant a decades’ long journey through an underworld of sophisticated, international, string-laced dreck (i.e., your great-grandparents’ record collection) to arrive at Music from Patch Cord Productions, this set of queasy-listening you now hold.

Music from Patch Cord Productions shows that Garson’s knack was to exist in both worlds, super-commercial and waaay out. He cut delirious minute-long blasts for commercials (as to whether or not they were actually ever aired remains unknown) and spacecraft-hovering études. Were there really account managers out there in the early ’70s that gave the greenlight to these commercial compositions which seemed to anticipate everyone from John Carpenter to Suicide? What were these campaigns actually for, Soylent Green? Regardless, Mort’s jingle work laid the groundwork for the future. As Robert Moog himself noted: “The jingles were important because they domesticated the sound.” Via Garson’s wizardry, the synthesizer transcended novelty to ubiquity and dominance.

Other curios and questions abound. How did Garson’s arrangement work for Arthur Prysock’s satiny body worship album This Is My Beloved transmogrify into the body-snatcher pulses of “This is My Beloved”? Are the two pieces even related? What is the IATA code for the airport of “Realizations of an Aeropolis”? What denomination is the “Cathedral of Pleasure”? If “Son of Blob” sounds like a hallucinatory melted ice cream truck theme, what on earth does Blob’s father sound like? Every sound wrangled out of that Moog by Garson pushes things further and further out.

Of course, these are all questions that may never get answers, as Garson wasn’t the most organized modern day composer, busy as he was conjuring strange new realms with his circuit boards and synths. He worked and wrote right up until his death in 2008, his daughter and Sacred Bones still going through all of the material left behind. He wouldn’t live to see it, but his renaissance was just around the corner, the seeds that had been scattered in record bins around the world suddenly coming to bear fruit. Take a bite!

Steve Von Till has charted an extraordinary musical path over the last several decades, from his main duties as singer and guitarist of the boundary-breaking Neurosis to the psychedelic music of his Harvestman project and the gothic Americana he's released under his own name. But No Wilderness Deep Enough is truly like nothing you've ever heard from him before—an album that's devastatingly beautiful and overwhelming in its scope, reminiscent of the tragic ecstasy of Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds' recent work as well as the borderless ambient music pioneered by Brian Eno, late composer Jóhann Jóhannsson's glacial compositions, and the electronic mutations of Coil. 

FOR FANS OF : MARK LANEGAN/MICHAEL GIRA/NICK CAVE.

Over the course of recent time, an aching, growing void has developed where our normal way of life has resided. Uncertainty abounds, and Steve Von Till's No Wilderness Deep Enough provides a voice of existential wisdom and experience to offer comfort and perspective in an era of uncharted territory. These six pieces of music shape a hallucinatory landscape of sound that plumbs the depths of the natural world's mysteries and uncertainties—questions that have vexed humanity since the dawn of time asked anew amidst a backdrop that's as haunting as it is holistic.

Von Till’s fifth solo album is a swirling and iridescent blend of ambient, neo-classical, and gothic Americana that swan-dives into the darkness of modern life, with the resulting emergence a sonic document of rural psychedelia that transcends the physical world—towards a greater spiritual acceptance that connects naturalism, spiritualism, and the corporeal form.

With a foundation of simple melancholy piano chord progressions embellished with mellotron, cello, french horn and electronic treatments Von Till's scorched ache spreads across the terrain of No Wilderness Deep Enough like a brushfire, adding a tactile level to his sonic creation as well as an inviting level of friction to the burning beauty painted across the album's framework.

With a foundation of simple melancholy piano chord progressions that came to fruition during jetlagged nights in his wife’s childhood home in Germany, No Wilderness Deep Enough was further embellished with mellotron and electronic treatments in Von Till’s home studio in North Idaho.  Viewing the emerging result as an ambient instrumental album, he consulted friend and engineer Randall Dunn (Marissa Nadler, Earth) about adding live cello and french horn and piano in a proper studio.  After enlisting Brent Arnold on cello and Aaron Korn on french horn, he challenged Von Till to sing over the music and make it his next solo album—which is exactly what happened, with final work being completed at Tucker Martine’s (the Decemberists, Neko Case) Flora Recording and Playback in Portland.

Originally written and produced as the centrepiece to his 2014 FabricLive compilation, Erol Alkan’s ‘Sub Conscious' arrives on 12” vinyl and to streaming platforms for the first time, accompanied by two charismatic remixes from Manfredas.

Shimmering and undulating, the original cut of ‘Sub Conscious’ was designed with Fabric’s cavernous main room in mind, taking full advantage of any finely tuned soundsystem with a patient, rhythmic trip. Remastered here, the track evolves out of hazy darkness towards halcyon euphoria in a uniquely Alkan style.

Resident at Opium Club in Vilnius, cult DJ and producer Manfredas provides two hugely creative and alternative takes on ‘Sub Conscious’. The first works hallucinatory magic with a supple bassline and much of Alkan’s original stretched and repurposed around vampish oscillations and a westward vocal sample.

On the contrary, the ‘Stream Of Consciousness' mix sees Manfredas pitch down and strum the bones of ‘Sub Conscious’, unexpectedly delivering a lovingly lethargic, bottom-heavy jam that’s pure dub-side pleasure.

Repress

Leading lights of the neo ambient rhizome alongside Huerco S’ West Mineral label, Experiences Ltd has already amassed a cult following after just one release - ULLA’s ‘Tumbling Towards A Wall’, now returning to relay a sublime, probing debut of crackling, cross-continental communications from mdo, Ultrafog, and Nikolay Kozlov, aka Folder.
Weft from dematerialised ambient tropes spooled between their respective bases in Kansas City, Tokyo, and Samara in Russia, ‘New Path’ slots fuzzily into an expanding prism of contemporary ambient music which echoes the purpose and effect of the original thing via traces of ‘90s/‘00s experimental techno and minimalist rhythms. Their sound effectively recalls K. Leimer’s systems music as much as the Pole’s eerie dub malfunctions; running a lushly frayed and decentralised style that embraces a gently psychedelic sort of chaos and lysergic, hallucinatory vision in an up-to-the-moment way shared by the likes of Huerco. S and uon.
If original ambient was analogous to THC and LSD, and in the ‘90s MDMA, then the effect of Folder’s music, and that of their peers, adds the putative, lushly dissociative effect and non-linearity of Ketamine and psilocybin to that formula. As such ‘New Path’ attempts to follow new routes through your neurons, sparking at new junctures of style and form that better reflect and counter a current psychic state of stasis and anxious anticipation.
Coming from the label behind those cult ‘bblisss’ volumes of 2016-2018, listeners can trust their needs for relaxation and otherworldly curiosity will be sated by ’New Path’, as it courses from iridescent ambient noise in the titular opener, to the laminal diffractions of ‘Plasma’, and soothing textural abstraction of ‘Reset’, shoring up in ‘Node’ as though oceanic ambient currents have individually lead them to this bobbing buoy inthe middle of a noumenal ocean.

If you’ve visited Ibiza in the last few years, there’s a fair chance you’ll have encountered DJ Pippi and Willie Graff. The experienced duo has been DJing together on the White Isle for years, finding time between sundown sets to make music together in Italian veteran Pippi’s home studio. The pair’s first collaborative EP dropped on Drumpoet Community way back in 2007, with the belated follow-up appearing a decade later on Compost Disco. Here they make their bow on Leng with the “Lunares EP”, a typically warm and woozy collection of cuts named after the Spanish word for “polka dots” (a fashionable item in Spain and the Balearic islands throughout the 1980s).

They begin with the slow-burn sunrise bliss of “Lunares”, a shuffling and glassy-eyed affair in which evocative, emotion-rich strings, heady vocal samples, echoing sitars and lilting guitars slowly rise above a thickset backing track rich in dubby bass, swelling pads, starry electronics and snappy drums. Capable of tugging at the heartstrings, it’s a sublime slab of mood-enhancing bliss perfect for both weary dancing and sofa-bound relaxation. “Saxolicious” lives up to the premise of the title, with Pippi and Willie wrapping snaking, effects-laden saxophone solos around a languid, slow motion groove bristling with hazy intent. Expect chiming electric piano chords, dreamy pads, rolling grooves and another fine bassline that will worm its way into your subconscious, spark up a spliff and stay there for days.

The EP’s final musical moment is, if anything, even more spaced-out and intoxicating. Employing extra-slow beats and a prominent jazzy bass guitar part, the pair invites us to get locked in to a chuggy rhythm. Throw in druggy synth lines, tactile electric piano stabs and some suitably cosmic effects and you have a hallucinatory treat that would no doubt have gained the approval of the late, great Andrew Weatherall.

Pilo returns to BNR in 2020 with the “A.R.E.A.” EP. Since his first release for the label in 2013 at a very young age, each subsequent record could be seen as a milestone of growth - the “A.R.E.A. EP” feels confident, produced with consummate skill, focusing on the LA-producers strongest themes and devices. This is not, however, the sort of “maturity” that sees things get boring, more restrained. Pilo’s drum is the beat of LA’s unhinged underground techno scene - they don’t do boring - and this drum is always banging.

A-side examples: “Acid by Mouth.” A stuttered kick and a gated, uncanny valley voice form the backbone for increasing layers of texture and percussion. It’s a rollercoaster, as viscerally satisfying on the way up as on the way down. Pilo’s production journey has been increasingly cinematic, and you can see the songs here - “Acid by Mouth” is suited for a Gaspar Noe nightclub scene, and you love to hear it as long as no one gets murdered. “Ruhig” is tribal, made for spaces with 4 story high ceilings and sparse but blinding flashes of light. You can hear steel beams buckling under pressure, a breath too close behind you. The workers of the factory in fit of madness started raving to the sounds of their own machines. They’ve been dancing, without pause, for years now.

The B-side opens with “Exit the Artificial.” Headbanging broken beat kick, aggressive Skinny Puppy snares, ghost voices in hallucinatory bursts too short to confirm to be real. The draw-distance of the stereo spread seems infinite - listen at the very edges and a whole other (ominous) world is taking place. The ghosts mock you in gated laughs by the end. “Adapt Tactics” leads you out - low tempo, hissy percussion, haunted again at the fringe. Things break down, reduced to grain - brain short-circuits, “will I feel like this forever?” It’s a warning - turn back, there’s nothing for you out there. You embrace the madness, and start Pilo’s “A.R.E.A.” EP again from the beginning.

Die Cut Sleeve with download. It’s a strange betweenworld, bookended by sleep and the jolt of being wide awake in a place where you wonder how you got there. You know the feeling… It seems familiar but the colours are, well, unreal. In a high-ceilinged room, a grand piano plays lush melodies as, meanwhile, somewhere, an Alice In Wonderland clock ticks, cellos are bowed, a swarm of something vibrates and the hallucinatory crowd around Rosemary’s Baby babble. An echoey electronic hum builds and falls like a 50s refrigerator passed through and effects board, things run backwards, staccato strings are plucked… and that’s not the half of it. “I’ve never been happy staying in one particular school of musical thought. The fun has been turning things on their heads, to try something you were not supposed to do.” We’re on an immersive and adventurous travelogue with the former member of the legendary Tangerine Dream, Paul Haslinger - this is a man who knows how to build tension, hold moods, illustrate contempt, lies, passion and pleasure; He can create fear, loathing and love - he’s been unlocking the nuances of such emotions in a hugely successful career as a TV and film soundtrack composer (Halt And Catch Fire, Underworld and the Golden Globe-nominated Sleeper Cell). ‘Exit Ghost’ is his long thought out opus, a moment caught in time, flicking through reference points, taking an ethereal excursion that permeates musical genres as it becomes awash with intricate sounds and cross-pollinating rhythms. Built originally from the warmth of his grand piano ‘Exit Ghost’ resonates with purity and power, from an eerie and evocative betweenworld, that’s at once expansive and rolling, then intoxicating and suffocating in equal measures; modern composition at its most uplifting; cerebral, celebratory, intense and beautiful. “The soul searching in connection with this record was extensive. Finding places of resonance, giving a colour to your memories. It was more challenging because it’s not somebody else’s narrative. Finding the core of your own story can be the most difficult task of all.” Created over the span of eight years and filled with literal and personal references, the album itself is a testament to the search - a quest filled with hints, particles and suggestions.

Reissue of this 1976 LP from Zambia. Deep minimal African music, lovely compositions over scarce drum machines and (fuzzy) guitars.. Beautiful music with a deeper message in the lyrics which is explained better in the long review below. Some words from the label. There is music that falls right into place, a perfectly articulated expression of a few distinct influences. Then, there is another kind of median music, something more mysterious, the result of time, place, technology, and alchemy. Zambian writer and musician Smokey Haangala’s Aunka Ma Kwacha (The Money is Gone) released in 1976 is an example of this more mystical metallurgy, falling somewhere between psychedelic Zamrock, US folk, Kalindula, and Sundown Beat (music played after dark) from Tongaland. The unique mix of languages on the album (Bemba, Tonga, Lozi, and English) also suggest this complex cultural crossroads. Underlying the whole album is the insistent beat of a simple drum machine, which was totally unheard of in Zambia at the time, and parallels pioneering experiments by Francis Bebey, Sly Stone, and Shuggie Otis, utilizing a technology which would later come to define dance music. Then there’s the album’s original artwork by Peter Kependa, done in style similar to the infamous Jamaican dancehall illustrator Wilfred Limonious, interpreting the album’s title and primary theme; the burden of financial inequality.

In this sense the album is political, but the theme is extrapolated and explored through its impact on personal life; love, marriage, social status, and diet. The album is full of cautionary tales, folklore and references to magic, aspects of Zambian culture simultaneously mystifying and alluring to outsiders, part of what attracted Western readers to Nigerian writer Amos Tutuola’s hallucinatory Yoruba folktales. After becoming a household name in Zambia for his music, writing, and television appearances, Smokey Haangala died at the age of 38, the very week his book The Black Eye was published, abruptly ending his brilliant and ascending career. We are lucky to have his inimitable work to remember him by, Aunka Ma Kwacha resting comfortably in the pantheon of re-visionary works by Rodriguez, Kissoon Ramasar, TJ Hustler, and William Onyeabor.