Suche:hiss

For Fans of Robyn, Tirzah, Charli XCX, Mica Levi, Jessy Lanza, Maurice Fulton. "Don't come closer, because I might hurt you boy / You don't deserve it, I treat you like a toy." So sings 28-year-old South East London musician Tatyana on "It's Over", the sad and squelchy electro-leaning title track to her second album. Primarily written and produced over the summer of `23, It's Over follows the loose trajectory of a not-quite-relationship from the year before. But, more than that, it's an album about modern dating, alienation and the confines of existing online. If you've heard Tatyana's name before, it's probably because she released a debut album back in 2022, Treat Me Right, co-produced with Metronomy's Joe Mount, a record she describes as more of a collaboration. For It's Over, Tatyana took control of every aspect of the album's creation, from the production (she co-produced it alongside Mikko Gordon) to the artwork and the technology she used throughout. "This record made me technically proficient because I really pushed myself," says Tatyana. "I figured out a lot of things that I didn't know before. In the past, I allowed others to lead the charge and I'm not doing that any more." Born in London, before moving to Russia, Holland and Singapore in her teens, before eventually studying music at Berklee College in the USA - which she attained on full scholarship - and then back to London, Tatyana imbues her music with both haywire technical proficiency and encyclopaedic, far-flung tastes. Mostly, though, her sound originates from a pure love of the dancefloor: Robyn, Tirzah, Mica Levi, Jessy Lanza, The Knife. You can hear these dance-pop influences everywhere, from the colourful synth shapes of "Control (ft. Dave Okumu)" to the crackling analogue hiss of "Nothing is True, Everything is Possible". Lean in a little closer, too, and you might catch the shimmer of a harp on every song (she's played harp since she was a little girl, and toured extensively as a professional session harpist). "I write about love, I write about romance, these are the things that interest me," says Tatyana. "That's what this record is. It's about this relationship that broke my brain and I had to write about it."

Canadian performer and composer Sarah Belle Reid’s 2021 acclaimed album, first time on vinyl, expanded with two new incredible songs, remastered featuring new artwork. From distant ocean song to the clang and howl of a murky forgotten memory, MASS is a dreamlike collage of shrill shrieks, gasps, corroded brass choirs, and melting modular synth soundscapes, all heard through a mist of hiss and noise. Fused with equal parts spastic improvisation, shrouded ritual, and meticulous arrangement, it presents a sonic topography at once tongue-in-cheek, sensitive, and nightmarish. With discordant chorales and angular trumpet improvisations churning in an ever-evolving wash of whispers and howls, MASS is a collection of three hazy, harsh, and frightful sound worlds. With tracks meandering between aggressive rhythms, eerie ambiances, and abrasive cut-up electronic textures, MASS draws inspiration from early tape music, horror film soundtracks, and grindcore. It was assembled between listening to extended doses of Else Marie Pade, Daphne Oram, Eliane Radigue, the Locust, Edgard Varèse, Maryanne Amacher, Dick Raaijmakers, Naked City, Mr. Bungle, and Thomas Ankersmit, bringing a little bit of all of them along with it. MASS was recorded and mixed over the course of three weeks in January–February 2021 while in the midst of a cross-country move. Recorded entirely in short-term housing away from her studio (and most of her instruments), Reid relied exclusively on her voice, trumpet, flugelhorn, household objects, and Make Noise's Strega semi-modular synthesizer for all sound materials. Original sound materials were recorded loosely and independently with little to no overdubbing, instead relying on meticulous editing and processing in the manner of classic tape music.

Canadian performer and composer Sarah Belle Reid’s 2021 acclaimed album, first time on vinyl, expanded with two new incredible songs, remastered featuring new artwork. From distant ocean song to the clang and howl of a murky forgotten memory, MASS is a dreamlike collage of shrill shrieks, gasps, corroded brass choirs, and melting modular synth soundscapes, all heard through a mist of hiss and noise. Fused with equal parts spastic improvisation, shrouded ritual, and meticulous arrangement, it presents a sonic topography at once tongue-in-cheek, sensitive, and nightmarish. With discordant chorales and angular trumpet improvisations churning in an ever-evolving wash of whispers and howls, MASS is a collection of three hazy, harsh, and frightful sound worlds. With tracks meandering between aggressive rhythms, eerie ambiances, and abrasive cut-up electronic textures, MASS draws inspiration from early tape music, horror film soundtracks, and grindcore. It was assembled between listening to extended doses of Else Marie Pade, Daphne Oram, Eliane Radigue, the Locust, Edgard Varèse, Maryanne Amacher, Dick Raaijmakers, Naked City, Mr. Bungle, and Thomas Ankersmit, bringing a little bit of all of them along with it. MASS was recorded and mixed over the course of three weeks in January–February 2021 while in the midst of a cross-country move. Recorded entirely in short-term housing away from her studio (and most of her instruments), Reid relied exclusively on her voice, trumpet, flugelhorn, household objects, and Make Noise's Strega semi-modular synthesizer for all sound materials. Original sound materials were recorded loosely and independently with little to no overdubbing, instead relying on meticulous editing and processing in the manner of classic tape music.

Discovered after spending 58 years on a dusty shelf in the Louis Wayne Moody Pictures vault, this previously unissued soundtrack contains a backpack's worth of grieving guitars, somber surf, and haunting hiss, zipped tight with the teeth of abandonment, dashed dreams, moral ambiguity, fate, tearful goodbyes, and lukewarm diner coffee. Because the long arm of society nips at their heels... THEY MOVE I N THE NIGHT.

Discovered after spending 58 years on a dusty shelf in the Louis Wayne Moody Pictures vault, this previously unissued soundtrack contains a backpack's worth of grieving guitars, somber surf, and haunting hiss, zipped tight with the teeth of abandonment, dashed dreams, moral ambiguity, fate, tearful goodbyes, and lukewarm diner coffee. Because the long arm of society nips at their heels... THEY MOVE I N THE NIGHT.

Slimelord, Englands eigenartigste Death Metal-Kuriosität, hat auf ihrem Debütalbum "Chytridiomycosis Relinquished" eine wilde und halluzinatorische Geschichte aus den unterirdischen Tiefen zusammengetragen. Das Logbuch der Suche verwebt sich mit den ungewöhnlichsten Elementen der Geologie, alten Mythen, Weltgeschichte, Umweltschutz und Fantasie. Ein Konzept, das so detailliert und komplex bizarr ist wie die Musik selbst.

Nach mehreren hochgelobten EP-Veröffentlichungen sumpfiger Death- und Doom-Abartigkeiten zeigen sich Slimelord auf "Chytridiomycosis Relinquished" in Bezug auf Geschwindigkeit und Schwere in ihrer bisher stärksten Form. Das gewaltige Riffing, gepaart mit ihrer Fähigkeit, verträumte, abgedrehte Wiederholungen und improvisierte Unorthodoxie zu beschwören, wird durch überlagerte Effektpedale und sogar Field-Recordings ergänzt, um eine Atmosphäre von extremer Dichte und exzentrischer Mythosbildung zu schaffen, die ein völliges Eintauchen in die Dunkelheit ermöglicht.

Mit Brad Moores filmischen und unheimlichen visuellen Landschaften, die Slimelords surreale Saga in eine lebendige Realität verwandeln, und zusätzlichen Story-Ebenen jenseits der Texte, die in der Veröffentlichung enthalten sind, präsentiert "Chytridiomycosis Relinquished" eine enorme Weiterentwicklung der musikalischen Komposition und des Produktionswertes. Die umfassende musikalische und ästhetische Vision von Slimelord dringt wie ein Pilz in das Substrat ein, von dem sie sich ernährt.

Slimelord, Englands eigenartigste Death Metal-Kuriosität, hat auf ihrem Debütalbum "Chytridiomycosis Relinquished" eine wilde und halluzinatorische Geschichte aus den unterirdischen Tiefen zusammengetragen. Das Logbuch der Suche verwebt sich mit den ungewöhnlichsten Elementen der Geologie, alten Mythen, Weltgeschichte, Umweltschutz und Fantasie. Ein Konzept, das so detailliert und komplex bizarr ist wie die Musik selbst.

Nach mehreren hochgelobten EP-Veröffentlichungen sumpfiger Death- und Doom-Abartigkeiten zeigen sich Slimelord auf "Chytridiomycosis Relinquished" in Bezug auf Geschwindigkeit und Schwere in ihrer bisher stärksten Form. Das gewaltige Riffing, gepaart mit ihrer Fähigkeit, verträumte, abgedrehte Wiederholungen und improvisierte Unorthodoxie zu beschwören, wird durch überlagerte Effektpedale und sogar Field-Recordings ergänzt, um eine Atmosphäre von extremer Dichte und exzentrischer Mythosbildung zu schaffen, die ein völliges Eintauchen in die Dunkelheit ermöglicht.

Mit Brad Moores filmischen und unheimlichen visuellen Landschaften, die Slimelords surreale Saga in eine lebendige Realität verwandeln, und zusätzlichen Story-Ebenen jenseits der Texte, die in der Veröffentlichung enthalten sind, präsentiert "Chytridiomycosis Relinquished" eine enorme Weiterentwicklung der musikalischen Komposition und des Produktionswertes. Die umfassende musikalische und ästhetische Vision von Slimelord dringt wie ein Pilz in das Substrat ein, von dem sie sich ernährt.

Soft Walls is the solo recording project of Dan Reeves, who has spent his entire adult life kicking around in the dust of the UK's underground music scenes. Cutting his teeth in the South West's post-hardcore scene; centred around Exeter's The Cavern club, before moving to the South East and forming his own record label; Faux Discx, and the propulsive post-punk band: Brighton via London's Cold Pumas. Projects have come and gone over the years, but Reeves' Soft Walls has remained, an outlet for whatever musical whim takes his fancy.

'True Love' is Soft Walls' 4th album. Written and recorded at home, during breaks in work. During the aftermath of you-know-what.

For this album Dan leaned heavily in to his guitar playing, searching for those purest moments of true emotion and connection. Aiming to strike an instant blow. "Emotional guitar music. But not Emo." The result of falling in love with an instrument again and playing for the joy of it, much like he did as a teenager. Just older, wiser(?) and certainly more world-weary / teary-eyed.

Thematically, 'True Love' revels in stating its love for everything that is dear to Reeves. Odes to marriage, romance, unconditional love, parenthood and creativity pierce through the record's down-swings that tackle existential crisis and the feeling of falling in to depression. Each song attempts to encapsulate a vivid feeling, be it positive or negative. It's all part of a life worth living.

Although recorded at home, this album marks a leap in to digital mid-fidelity for Soft Walls, embracing a wider, richer sound beyond the tape hiss of earlier releases. That same spirt is still in the mix, but is presented wide-eyed and caffeinated in to clarity. Elevated by the input of a handful of collaborators contributing to the performances and helping to shape it sonically, 'True Love' ends up being the truest version of Soft Walls committed to (digital) tape thus far.

Back in stock!

NULLPTR never fails. Since emerging in 2016 with the Optical LP, Eddie Symons' project has become a byword for top-draw contemporary electro productions. After triumphantly returning to Sheffield's Central Processing Unit with 2020's Future World full-length, NULLPTR follows that album up with a new quartet of machine-funk slammers. Striking a balance between highwire, twitchy rhythm programming and some deft textural work, the Terminus EP demonstrates exactly why the NULLPTR name is so respected in the world of electro.

The first half here almost showcases the two sides of the NULLPTR sound in microcosm. Opening track 'Connected' zips along like one of the racers from a Wip3out game. The 808s are all booming breakbeats and hissing-piston hats, with a jittery synth bassline nipping in and out of the spaces left vacant by the drums. Atop these swirl eerie keyboard pads, the reverb from them draping across the rest of the instruments like fog above a city. By contrast, following cut 'Mesospheric Cruise' is the yin to 'Connected's yang. Where its predecessor was tense and coiled, this lilting number is expansive and open like a primetime Virginia joint - though the point where the wistful house pads strip back to foreground the twinkle-toed electro beat still has a pleasing crunch to it.

The B-side of Terminus serves dystopian snap from the off. Genre masters Drexciya are invoked by 'Syndicate'. The needle-gun bassline here turns itself inside-out across these five minutes, and all the while the tune is laced with some evocative shadow-realm synth pads. A similar energy courses through the EP's closing title-track, a cut which also brings into play a booming four-to-the-flour that gives it an unstoppable sense of forward-motion. Like 'Connected' and 'Mesospheric Cruise' - indeed, like all of the NULLPTR material that Central Processing Unit has brought us down the years - these jams will sound positively devilish when deployed in a dark basement.

The Terminus EP sees electro don NULLPTR (Eddie Symons) deliver four slices of unadulterated machine-funk heat.

RIYL: Virginia, Cardopusher, Drexciya, Silicon Scally

Warehouse find!

With '100% Dope' we find Central Processing Unit bringing up their hundredth catalogue number, and you'd struggle to find a more fitting artist to ring in a century of releases for the label than Cygnus. The one born Phillip Washington has been with CPU since the very beginning, his 2012 LP 'Newmark Phase' representing the first record ever released on the imprint. That album's combination of textured techno and grizzly Drexciyan electro set the tone for CPU perfectly, and it's no surprise that Cygnus has returned to the Sheffield imprint several times down the years.

While '100% Dope' is an expert demonstration of what Cygnus and CPU do, this EP also shows just how much both artist and label have grown over the past nine years. At its heart '100% Dope' is a set of prime machine-funk from a master of the form, but these are also some of the most daring and innovative tracks that Cygnus has ever produced.

Take opening cut 'Bad RGB Controller'. In the undulating synth lines we have a ghost of grime as well as Drexciyan drive, and as such the track reminds one as much of Mr. Mitch or Last Japan as it does, say, Dopplereffekt. Furthermore, 'Bad RGB Controller' shifts gear around the halfway mark into a highwire electronica mode which has the wit and spark of prime Bogdan Raczynski. Entries like 'Float Back To The Surface' are similarly unpredictable. There's some lovely industrial techno bite to this one - the snare drum will echo in your head long after the party's died down - but Cygnus periodically pulls out the rug from underneath us with passages of impressionistic texture that almost border on sound art.

'Float Back To The Surface' is one of a trio of vocoder-led jams here. On 'Throwing Shade' we hear I-F and Egyptian Lover, with Cygnus' vocals clattering around like pronouncements from some funked-out robot overlord atop hissing-piston drums. Then there's the enticingly-titled 'CPU Records'. 'CPU Records' delivers all the crisp electro snap we've come to expect from a record emblazoned with that signature black-and-white artwork, yet this thing is also widescreen and cinematic in ways that demonstrate the maturation of the Cygnus sound. With a wicked vocoder vocal that celebrates the label's many achievements, 'CPU Records' is a victory lap tune if ever we've heard one.

Central Processing Unit keep it 100 on for this new EP. '100% Dope' by Cygnus is CPU's 100th catalogue number, and the Texan producer delivers on the promise of the record's title with a collection of brilliantly unique electro joints.

Warehouse find!

While the German producer Martin Matiske averages a new release under his given name every few years, there was a long stretch of time in which sightings of his Blackploid alias were much more rare. After dropping an EP for Frustrated Funk in 2006, fans found further material hard to come by over the next decade or so. However, Matiske has reinvigorated Blackploid in recent times, with the project making a few compilation appearances and dropping a couple of EPs across 2020.

That run now culminates inCosmic Traveler, a four-track affair which marks Matiske's debut appearance on Sheffield's Central Processing Unit. Given the long wait, it's great just to see Blackploid back among the fray once again. But for the project's CPU curtain-raiser to be an EP of such high-quality techno jams? Now that really is spoiling us.

Cosmic Traveler's title nods towards the sort of stargazing aesthetics one finds in classic Detroit techno. However, while there are undoubtedly ties to the Motor City in this music, the record ultimately steers less towards spacious atmospherics and more towards the taut, lean machine-funk of seminal practitioners like Dopplereffekt.

Matiske sets his stall out from the off. Opener 'Electric Engine' begins with a run of stiff-necked 808 kicks before hissing hi-hats, a grizzly bassline and all manner of futuristic sounds enter to warp the tune into hyperspace. Following cut 'Night Drive' repeats the trick of 'Electric Engine' but adds a pleasingly dinky synth lead in order to nudge itself slightly towards bleep-techno territory.

The two cuts on Cosmic Traveler's B-side are pure late-night goodness, a pair of mid-set heaters primed for dark basements. 'Pleasure Activism' delivers on the promise of its title and then some, pushing the Kraftwerk template to extremes by bringing a load of gnarly synth lines into play over a wobbling acidic chug. Finally, EP closer 'The Race' is reminiscent of both the twisted machine-funk of Gerald Donald's Japanese Telecom project and the playful modern evolutions of artists like fellow CPU high-flyer Jensen Interceptor.

The resurgence of Martin Matiske's Blackploid project continues withCosmic Traveller, an EP of timeless electro-funk and techno.

FFO: Dopplereffekt, Japanese Telecom, Jensen Interceptor, Cardopusher

This special edition joint Subtle Audio / Bustle Beats 10 inch serves as a tribute to Conor / Code's late wife Louisa Donnelly who sadly passed away in June 2020. There's a one-off catalogue number - LOUISA001 in her honour on the 10 inch press. The Bustle Beats side of the vinyl features a very special track by D-Fect called 'Flowers' - a tune he made specially in Louisa's memory and as something positive for Conor and his daughters in the wake of her passing. The art on the sleeve is something that was drawn by Louisa back in 2018 - her beautiful Sunflower sketch that ties in with the lyric of D-Fect's tune perfectly ... 'flowers will grow'.

On the flipside is a tune by Code called 'Atlantic'. In his own words - 'Lou loved to visit the coast of Ireland, in particular the west coast and to see and hear the wildness of the Atlantic ocean. When I thought of all the tracks I had made over the years, this really seemed to be the one that reminded me of her the most - not just because of the track title and the waves spraying and hissing in tune itself, but also because the atmospheric sounds have a purity of spirit that, to me, symbolise how Louisa was a person'

Crypt of the Wizard is proud to present Peace Vaults - I & II on vinyl and digital formats. New blood from the Viennese gutters. Amidst the vile and hostile ravines of sooted stone and waste filled waters is a glade to be found. Peace Vaults erect four pillars of crude and stoic Black Metal, guided by luring vocals and synth melodies, which shimmer like ominously kaleidoscopic light through cracks in the walls of rat filled sewers. Hissing through cracked and blackened feedback Peace Vaults produce jangly off-kilter rhythms, awash with raw metal energy and diffuse post punk lethargy. Frantically pulling chaotic drum patterns and howling guitar leads into rhythmic structure until, wild, they pull themselves apart again. This compilation of the band's two demo tapes rightly now presented on vinyl marks the beginning of an ongoing union between Peace Vaults and Crypt of the Wizard with new material due in the not so distant future

Last year's superb Pura Lempuyang album has been pulled apart and served up on a couple of separate 12"s and this is the second one. It comes on limited turquoise vinyl and offers four cuts of stylish deep dub and techno. Fletcher's 'It's A Virtue' goes first with taught, twanging bass and grubby basslines then Mike Schommer's 'Kingmaker' offers liquid dub funk with watery pads and hissing static. Nicolas Barnes picks it up a little with a darker but still warm dub techno roller in 'Sonic Dial' and Redrop's 'Genesis' is the more driving of the lot but again exists right on the ocean floor.

Khanate's self titled debut (2001) has all the pleasant ambiance of a plane crash site, a bleak urban waste of mangled and torn metal beams and hissed alarms. When Khanate first issued instructions to the void in 2001, the band was embraced as the next iteration of guitarist Stephen O'Malley's tube-cracking forays into amplifier variance; a fascinating further step of vocalist Alan Dubin and low-frequency shifter James Plotkin's space charts; and a warning for the crawling-pace hammers of Tim Wyskida's drums. But Khanate was not preaching of coming doom or offering emotional catharsis. The band was totally post-dread. The worst had already happened, and would continue to happen, over and over. The 5 songs on Khanate sound like an "orchestrated root canal" (Julian Cope).

Khanate's self titled debut (2001) has all the pleasant ambiance of a plane crash site, a bleak urban waste of mangled and torn metal beams and hissed alarms. When Khanate first issued instructions to the void in 2001, the band was embraced as the next iteration of guitarist Stephen O'Malley's tube-cracking forays into amplifier variance; a fascinating further step of vocalist Alan Dubin and low-frequency shifter James Plotkin's space charts; and a warning for the crawling-pace hammers of Tim Wyskida's drums. But Khanate was not preaching of coming doom or offering emotional catharsis. The band was totally post-dread. The worst had already happened, and would continue to happen, over and over. The 5 songs on Khanate sound like an "orchestrated root canal" (Julian Cope).

While this may be the first release on Sheffield's Central Processing Unit from Global Goon, the one known to friends and family as Johnny Hawk brings a whole heap of experience to the Nanoclusters mini-LP.

Hawk started dropping Global Goon records on the legendary Rephlex Records back in the 1990s. The project's subsequent releases have taken in imprints as esteemed as WéMè and Balkan. Factor in a whole host of other aliases which have delivered missives via the likes of Planet Mu, and you know even before you press play on this witty, wily record that you're dealing with a master at work here.

The confidence with which Global Goon approaches Nanoclusters shines through in Hawk taking much of the mini-album at midtempo. Cuts like 'Khroxic Mould', 'Metallik' and 'Syntheseers' sound like Bochum Welt heading down a dark alleyway. The former in particular is a seasick lope, the tuned synths lurching around like sailors on deck in a storm as bass ebbs and flows underneath the mix.

The influence of Kraftwerk comes through prominently at times here, particularly in the way 'Calcula' and 'Digit Six' play pensive, slightly sombre synth chords off some simple but effective forward motion in the drum programming. That is not to say that Nanoclusters is not full of invention, though. None of the productions are overly flash, but this approach allows the little details to shine through more clearly, from cleverly panned hi-hats to hissing synth counter-melodies which flit in and out of the mix. Enthralling and packed full of ear candy, they're further evidence that Nanoclusters is the work of an expert craftsman.

While the pulse of Nanoclusters remains relatively steady throughout, it's still a rather lively record. Plenty of these tracks will get the dancefloor moving if deployed correctly - though whether they're heard at home or in the dance, it's the attention to detail which makes them stand out.

'Snapterisk' is as perfect an example of machine-funk as you're likely to find - the drum programming is razor-sharp but rubbery with bongos, the bass a lithe burble, and those wobbly stabs of keys that put a bit of wiggle in the beat? Delightful stuff. Elsewhere the ever-looping arpeggio of 'Metro Esc' has hints of Frankie Knuckles' house classic 'Your Love', though an array of interesting sonic nuggets - snippets of vocal, radar-like bloops, a gently insistent low-end pulse - soften the track's clubbier elements with a pillowy sheen. And Hawk throws us a curveball right at the end of Nanoclusters, tapping back into that old Rephlex sound for the fizzy, braindancing 'Metal Glass'.

Global Goon doesn't need to show off on Nanoclusters - from brilliantly slick machine-funk to Kraftwerkian reveries, the CPU debutant lets the music do the talking here. It makes for a confident and vivacious mini-LP, one which wears its expertise lightly.

RIYL: Cardopusher, Bochum Welt, Cygnus, D'Arcangelo

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’

Columbarium are a Belgian (the village of Zwevegem) heavy doom metal band, formed in 2021 but comprised of seasoned members from the regional doom scene over the last ten years.

Having played about a hundred gigs in a former incarnation (as Loose License) in Belgium, The Netherlands and France with bands like The Gates Of Slumber, Nekromant, Marche Funebre, Serpent Venom, FAAL, Famyne and King Hiss, they have built a serious reputation as a live act in the last decade.

The addition of an extra guitar / keyboard player some years ago (Koen Biesbrouck, formerly also from the avantgarde / instrumental rock band Locus Control) has taken the music to another horizon and that newfound sound was the cradle for the band’s rebirth, which led to renaming the band Columbarium.

The four guys found that sound with Belgian producer Lander Cluyse from Hearse Studio (Amenra and Aborted) and with Brad Boatright from AudioSiege Mastering Studio (Portland - Monolord and Pig
Destroyer).

Featuring guest vocals from Michelle Nocon (Bathseba / Serpentcult / Of Blood And Mercury).

The LP is pressed on green vinyl.

For fans of Paradise Lost, Winter, Tiamat, Swallow The Sun, My Dying Bride, Opeth, Celtic Frost, Anathema, Cemetary, Katatonia, Autopsy, Candlemass.