Suche:jacob dwyer

Back in 2023, I picked up a record by Jacob Dwyer — I was completely captivated. His lyrics weren’t just words; they were portals. I had to track him down. After some digging, I made contact — and asked him if he would like to collaborate with me.

He said yes.

Fast forward through months of back-and-forth, and then it landed — in my inbox — Tom’s House: a one-hour audio-drama written and performed by the incomparable Jacob Dwyer. It’s a hypnotic, surreal journey through the mind of someone returning home after 15 years — disorienting, poetic, and fully immersive.

To accompany this masterwork, I put together my take on Canon HF10 — 12 minutes of deep, rolling tech grooves, bouncing acid basslines, freaked-out synths, and lyrical gold. (“He demanded a fried egg sandwich…”)

Flip to the B-side and things get wild with The Baby Legit Upside Down — a full-tilt burner packed with razor-sharp 808 electro/techno drums, squelchy 101 bass stabs, swirling pads, and an evolving sub that’ll shake the foundations. Dwyer’s voice threads through the chaos with uncanny flair — bizarre, brilliant, unforgettable. The title means what it says.

We close the EP with Red Flowers — slowing the tempo, diving into squelchy breaks and textural weirdness, as Jacob drops in snippets of conversation with his sister, alongside more sharp, off-kilter reflections on Tom’s House.

Check the full audio-drama: Jacob Dwyer – Tom’s House

It’s 6am on Sunday the 24th of January and I’m driving vaguely towards the beach.

Suitcase in the water is a tapestry of musical vignettes, field recordings and fragmented anecdotes that blur diary and fiction. On Monday 23rd of March 2020, police in England dyed the ‘Buxton Blue Lagoon’ black to deter visitors from swimming in the former limestone quarry. Things now float in that water.

Created during the pandemic by Jacob Dwyer and Sam Purcell, Suitcase in the water is a personal snapshot in time, and an insight into the private worlds of two remote collaborators.

In 2023, k.d.b lived in a crumbling farmhouse on the edge of the River Maas. Each morning, he’d wake at 6:00 and walk along the river’s bank with his dogfriend Miemel, pausing at sunrise for a cup of coffee.

It’s 6:34, and a thick rug of mist rolls out across the river. It’s so dense that k.d.b can’t see the water beneath it. Then comes the sun: a single ray cutting through the mist like a tube of light, landing on Miemel’s face. In her mouth is a CD she’s picked up, and on the CD is the title Instrumental Romance.

'What is Instrumental Romance?' thinks k.d.b. 'Romantic instrumentals? Or a romance used instrumentally? As in, a romance used to get something—like love?'

Miemel drops the CD and turns her attention to a stray purple grape on the path. Grapes are poisonous to dogs, and as she bends toward it, k.d.b. shouts, “NO!” At that precise moment, a large fish rises from the mist. It launches into the air, mouth wide open, and hangs there above the clouds. His shout, having traveled across the river, bounces back towards k.d.b with a “NO,” and in perfect synchrony, it appears the fish is also shouting at Miemel. The timing is so perfect, they can’t be sure it isn’t.

The fish falls back down, entering its watery world with an eerie, splashless silence, leaving k.d.b and Miemel standing open-mouthed on the bank. Before they can register the perfection of this duet, another fish (or maybe the same one again) rises from the mist in the exact same spot and launches into the air. Without thinking, k.d.b shouts again. The word “ROMANCE” comes out. This time, however, he is slightly too late, and the word is too long, so “ROMANCE” lingers on after the fish has already fallen back down.

'What even is romance?' thinks k.d.b. 'The construction of mystery or excitement with dead red flowers and timing?'

A foghorn sounds behind him, and k.d.b turns 180 degrees to see a boat moving freight, right to left, along the River Maas. 'That’s strange', he thinks. 'If the river is there, then what’s that behind me, below the mist?'

Staring at the boat and its shipping containers as they float out of sight, k.d.b imagines a man. The man is standing at the bottom of a small valley, holding a fish. 'Who is this man, and what does he want?'

- Jacob Dwyer