Cerca:latent

Dropping in January 2023 is the reissue of DJ Shu�lemaster's album EXP, which Tresor Records first released in 2001. This expanded reissue comes as a 3xLP with new artwork by Japanese designer Sk8thing and combines the original CD release tracks with three tracks from the Angel Gate 12" from the same year, including a remix by Surgeon of Experience. Also present is a previously unreleased version of Innervisions, which replaces the assonant synths of the original with a looped vocal sample upfront. Climb and Guiding Light will feature as digital-only tracks.
Tatsuya Kanamori remains a critical component of the Tokyo techno underground scene, initially coming to the fore through the Subvoice label before releases with Tresor, Theory Recordings, and Japanese record labels such as Disq and Reel Musiq. At the moment of the original release, DJ Shu�lemaster considered the record to draw in disparate and latent ideas into a fully encompassing mesh - "I would like to show my thoughts and everything that I am through the album. If it doesn't reflect my ideas and the reasons that I live for, there is no meaning for me to create an album. Therefore, EXP doesn't contain just one theme or concept."
EXP represents an uncompromising and psychedelic slant on techno, with a purist's focus on the dancefloor. It bridges many avenues within the techno genre, from the minimalist, dubby terrains of tracks like P.F.L.P. and Opaqueness, to more fierce percussive works that share a kinship with the sonic movements in Berlin, Detroit and
the UK. Beyond the technical, pared-down techno found in tracks such as EXP and Onto The Body, the album leaps into unpredictable territories frequently. Angel Exit carries mystical UK steppers moods as if it were a long-lost dubplate of The Rootsman. Kanamori delves deep into looping digital grunge in Flowers of Cantarella and Dawn
Purple, these synthetic worlds enveloping and deforming at will. Bold and as fresh as ever, EXP is an unearthed jewel from Tresor's past for new ears.

Vessels promise an escape from responsibilities towards the landscape, they facilitate our avoidance of conscientiously feeling our attachment to the mainland. The visual nothingness of deep water and clean horizons fools the brain and delivers a treacherous feeling of independence.

We ignore the truths expressed by landscapes, so we mould them into urban projects for our strange desires. We clean up the irrationalities by which nature constructs itself. Then we look up to the skies, where the abstractions we have to draw in our minds should reside and inspire us.

We peer into the various shades of blue above the waters, the emptiness guarantees possibilities of our abstractions becoming realities. The apathetic stare into neat, straight horizons transforms our ancestral landscape into dirt and danger, when looking back to it.

To be on a ship under quarantine, is an upside down experience, for the promised escape has turned into a forced paralysis. The Lima flag (? - ? ?, in morse code), presented on the outer sleeve of this record, indirectly demands of all passengers to stay aboard and contemplate their escape from the land they now desire to return to.

These four piano pieces could be considered as a classical sonata (allegroadagio-scherzo-rondo). In a recital they are accompanied by four video pieces by artist Karl Van Welden. We picked the videos out of his extensive archive, choosing images intuitively while listening to the piano music. The theme of ships relating to quarantine thus came unannounced but of course, we were in the middle of the pandemic at the time.

Solastalgia was already waiting as a title for the new album before march 2020. I first came across the word in Underland, a book by Robert Macfarlane (2019). He defines the word as "The unhappiness of people whose landscapes are being transformed about them by forces beyond their control". These forces and this unhappiness are, I believe, what constitutes the modern human. Solastalgia, about the music We haven't found them yet, the words to talk to each other about the worrying signs of climate change. Feeling worried when walking on autumn leaves in the beginning of August should be completely normal. But how do we communicate about it? We don't want to be just the next hysterical doomer.

With this music I try to focus on the climate pain itself, gently inviting the listener to investigate their latent feelings of unease and growing concerns about the environment. As in real life, we circumvent the real issues because they are just too big, there are no words, no expressions yet.

This album tries, in four different attempts, to carve out a path towards communicating about a deeper pain that eventually will connect us all. My general method is to start with a comforting melody, full of fake nostalgia, which, after changing gear to autodestruct mode, morphs into a painful question mark.

The first part sets off with an idyllic melody, accompanied by repeated notes, as a far, muted echo of an alarm. The melody starts to explain itself painfully into a dissonant whirlwind in the high register, sounding not unlike Ravel's Gaspard de la Nuit bravura. In the second piece a warm Beatles like melody (And I love her) gets confronted with the weird hippie mantra of a later Lennon song War is over, if you want it. Sentences get reduced to syllables and result in lonely notes that crash and shiver under the burden of too much meaning. Like Shostakovich's latest work, the Sonata for viola and piano.

The descending melody of Bach's Erbarme dich, Mein Gott is echoed in the upper and lower voicings of the third piece, juxtaposed to a typical, threatening Ennio Morricone Western dotted rhythm accompaniment. This rhythm eventually evolves into citing the 1972 Captain Beefheart early ecological warning song Blabber and Smoke (there's a big pane/pain in your window, it's gonna hang you all,... dangle you all). Towards the middle of the piece, the music explodes and the three layers get dispersed all over the keyboard in a virtuosic maelstrom towards another painful question mark. The bitter answer is going back to business with a barely noticeable citation of the first notes of the RZA's Liquid Swords album.

The final piece is some kind of mantra, the same 7/4 pulse all throughout the piece. The dampers of all A's and B's on the keyboard are released by the middle pedal, thus sustaining an ever present resonance. Melodic cells alternate in shifting quantifications with small, bell like percussive cluster playing. While composing this piece an image crept up: walking out of the church on Sunday morning, tolling bells enthusiastically moderating the churchgoers' small talk in the local dialect. Apparently I have tried to evoke this kind of conversation, but injecting it with fictitious alarming conversation topics, the contemporary.

Frederik Croene (August '22)

Across 6 tracks the Noods Radio resident Gareth Psaltis AKA Barking merges dub, ambient and menacing downtempo.

Having released on Deep Seeded and OpenTheNext, the Berlin-based producer returns to the label after his appearance on the A Call Too Close compilation.

Mastered by Alden Tyrell.
Edition of 200 copies.

"Diré a mi gente" is a 1969 Colombian pop classic with one foot in protest song and the other in acid rock, harsh sounding but also current and sincere. The rawness of the lyrics, the simple and dynamic electrified instrumentation and the contrast with the sweetness and innocence of the adolescent vocals make it reminiscent of Nadaism via Pablus Gallinazo, the bittersweet tenderness of Elia y Elizabeth and the post Los Yetis duet of Norman y Darío. First time vinyl reissue. Liner notes by Mexican DJ and collector Carlos Icaza aka Tropicaza (Dublab / Worldwide FM). "Diré a mi gente" is an essential Colombian album that connects the new generations that grew up after the fall of the socialist block. It's a classic with one foot in protest song and the other in acid rock, harsh sounding but also current, raw and sincere. It's reminiscent of Nadaism via Pablus Gallinazo, the bittersweet tenderness of Elia y Elizabeth and the post Yetis duet of Norman y Darío. It was recorded by the brothers Ana y Jaime Valencia and originally released in 1969 on the local label Discos 15. The messages it conveys are still fresh and the blend of superb songs, arrangements and the candor of the duo's performance proves the relevance and importance of re-listening to this album in an increasingly nihilistic and depoliticized world. The teenage voices enhance the truthfulness and power of conviction of the classic songs of Alí Primera and Daniel Viglietti. The endearing song 'Cuántos momentos', originally recorded by Iván Darío López from Los Yetis-Norman y Darío, stands out on the album. 'Es largo el camino', with more stark lyrics by Nelson Osorio backed by Astudillo's screeching guitar, sends shivers down your spine. "Diré a mi gente" reaffirms that the transformative power of music is still there, latent, waiting to be unleashed. Even though the road traveled to get there is sometimes long.

Valentina Goncharova's fundamental conceptual musical work released in full uncut form as part of Hidden Harmony Lost Tapes series (HHLTS01). Restored and mastered from the original 6.3 mm analog tapes. A large-scale work comprising eleven parts of varied, brooding, mystical reflection in which the author alters the instrumentation to fit both programmatic and musical character of each section.
Includes a 12-page booklet, which detailly explains the album's conceptual basis, background and creation context, and provides insights into unique sound recording and technical solutions adapted during the album recording in 1988. Created and written with direct involvement of V. Goncharova and I. Zubkov.

From the Liner notes:

"My task is to allow the listener to penetrate deeper into the music. The music is wholly improvisational. It has no concept in the rational sense of the word. It’s concept is purely intuitive. It presumes The Law of Analogies: “As above so below. Man is the same as the Universe. The Universe is the same as Man.” ("Emerald Tablet” by Hermes Trismegistus"). This intuition is a kind of rephrased logic which uses many more symbols which contain not only philosophical but also imaginative meanings/ visionary interpretations.

This music is a stream of consciousness in its purest form: not an imitation of a stream, as in the ‘suggestive poetry’ of the 20th century, but a stream where one flow is superimposed on another (a multilateral passage of recording). And, if we think this flow of music will be better understood under the influence of a verbal flow, then the verbal flow should also be more intuitive and associative, as objective for this short write-up you are currently reading.

Ocean did not appear within the coordinate system of logical scientific thinking of the last four centuries. It can be said that it is based on an intuitive concept of representations of the world which are captured in music figuratively. Similar to how myths were created in time immemorial with only partial support from verbal associations. Ocean is an experience of passing the Human Soul and Mind through the different states of the material world: birth, development, and achievement of perfection, transformation at the points of The Way and Silence, the manifestation of the harmony of the world (Om), which until then had remained in a latent state. It is averse to both mainstream contemporary physics and fringe scientific research. It exists outside their explanatory power.

Ocean is the source of all forms that can receive their life within time and space. Here it is. It has everything: beautiful and terrible, good and evil, self-sacrifice and betrayal. Boundless love and inspired creativity. But contact does not happen immediately. The memory of a bygone civilization is still fresh, and of the dearest things left with it."

Written, performed and produced by Valentina Goncharova
Composition A1 to C4 recorded in Kose subdistrict, Tallinn, Estonia (Recording period August-October 1988)
Composition D1 recorded in artist´s home studio in Lasnamäe subdistrict, Tallinn, Estonia (Recording period May 2021)

Die Electro-Keule kreist wieder! Nicht einmal zwei Jahre nach ihrem letzten Album sind die mexikanischen Höllen-Cousins zurück aus dem Pandemie-Kerker und lassen ihrer Aggression auf dem neuen Opus „Hyperviolent“ unverblümt freien Lauf. Latent bedrohlich und eher schleichend rabiat wie bei „Broken Empires“ oder im pulsierenden Dark’n’Bass-Gewand wie bei der zweiten Vorab-Single „Backstabbers“ – Hocico spielen auf den 13 Tracks ihres neuen Longplayers die komplette Aggro-Klaviatur. Dazu zählt auch und vor allem der Bonus-Track „Weapons Of Resistance“, den Erk gemeinsam mit Ten56.-Frontmann Aaron Matts eingesungen hat und der nach Kooperationen mit Lord Of The Lost und Ost+Front einen weiteren Krachmacher-Trip ins Gitarrenlager bedeutet. Auch 2022 gilt für Hocico also: Knüppel aus dem Sack oder einfach gesagt: „Hyper hyper“!

Less than two years after their last album, legendary Mexican Electro duo Hocico is once again filling the air with their unabashedly sound and strikes hard with their full range of aggression on the band's brand new album "Hyperviolent".

While previous albums, most notably Leland and Minutes of Sleep (2014) as well as two albums released as one half of the duo Aris Kindt (most notably the stellar Swann and Odette from 2017) have relied on singular thematic and narrative drives that were often of a personal, collaborative, or hermetic in nature, Thresholds is an album that aspires to sonic universality and the presentation of a fully formed psychoacoustical world. That being said it is not an “album of ideas”. Inspired by the ecological and political upheavals of the present and the role of speculative thought as an avenue of global transformation Thresholds is the work of a mature artist fully in control of his powers. Both expansive and nuanced the album widens the aperture of the affective possibilities of the electronic assemblage; themes skip from one track to the next, elevating and informing each other in tangible fields of abstract figuration. The titles, while often heady, concisely allude to strategies implicit in the construction and arrangement of the works: Cut Up, within the context of the album, is exactly that. Luck Takes a Step juxtaposes stately synths with just the right touch of playful fluctuation and latent atonality. The title track itself is a knotted mass of uncertainty and propulsive beats the breakdown of which is a nervous series of fits and starts that resonate not just within the track but as the fulcrum of the entire album: the threshold of our Threshold: “…we are caught up in our own original transversals of time to the point of dissolution, and that which remains a part of the contrivance of ourselves is ultimately that which crosses the threshold and is somehow, miraculously, reconstituted on the other side of it. Because it is via the threshold that we can best observe the conditions of experience as lived even as we cross to the other side of understanding, rejoining the ancient equilibriums of which we, in our depths, are comprised.” (From the liner notes)
No track overstays its welcome and with the help of standout vocalist Eliana Glass, and instrumentation by Dave Harrington (Darkside with Nicolas Jaar), Mark Nelson (Pan American), Will Shore, Greg Paulus and Gareth Redmond, and mixed by Phil Weinrobe, the result is a dizzyingly pure inward gaze that is first and foremost an album about connection.

All music improvised by Michael Wollny, Emile Parisien, Tim Lefebvre
and Christian Lillinger (except ‘Nostalgia for the Light’, written and
arranged by Michael Wollny).
The music we hear doesn’t fit into any category. We’re in uncharted
territory, so a good way to capture its essence might be to break it
down into its four component parts. First there’s Michael Wollny, here
for the very first time playing only on electronic keyboard instruments.
He creates a characterful world of retro-futuristic sounds that is very
much his own. We find the occasional nod to early Jean-Michel Jarre,
references to science fiction and horror movies and also vivid
memories of the sounds of avant-garde Krautrock: Can and Irmin
Schmidt and Klaus Schulze.
As for Tim Lefebvre, here is a musician who has plied his very great
craft with stars such as David Bowie, the Tedeschi Trucks Band, John
Mayer, Knower, Steely Dan, Elvis Costello and Wayne Krantz. Here
he is like a rock in a tempestuous sea. He propels the music forward
with a combination of bass and effects. He builds structures and
tames unruly elements. The way he lays down a groove is
overwhelming.
As a counterbalance we find the explosive yet highly sensitive playing
of drummer Christian Lillin-ger. He stacks layer upon layer of rhythms
and textures.
And the melodic lines of Emile Parisien on soprano saxophone
always have an astonishing springy inventiveness. Such is Parisien’s
latent energy, it seems as if at any moment he could suddenly
become airborne.
The players’ eager curiosity as to what the next turn, the next
impulse, the next push will be is palpable to the listener. One can
sense the tension between the urge to construct forms, lines,
grooves, harmonies, textures, versus the illicit joy of tearing such
fragile structures apart before they have even been heard. There are
beats and patterns from the 90s, 80s and 70s, all coalescing into
cinematic bacchanalia of sound. These four master improvisers and
composers all have the urge to rewrite the rules of their musical world
- and to do so in real time.
LP pressed on 180g vinyl with digital download code.

A maelstrom, the chaos, a vortex, a turmoil. These are appropriate words to describe the hard work of the prolific French producer.

With a cryptic history incorporating nearly two decades of aliases and side projects born out of free parties in warehouses, fields and basements, it is under this moniker that the artist has truly come into his own.

His skill and vision spanning from 135 bpm wave powerful to a pensive and subtle ambient track, Maelstrom's sonic universe is both precise and limitless, described better by feeling ('approaching storm over river/horse with the bit in its teeth/sliver of moon') than genre. Maelstrom cofounded the label RAAR in 2015 with frequent collaborator Louisahhh where he released his debut album «Her Empty Eyes» in 2017. Throughout the next 2 years, he has delivered exciting collaborations with cutting edge electro imprints such as CPU and Cultivated Electronics in the UK, Private Persons in Moscow, or Mechatronica in Berlin, while playing an all electro live set in clubs and raves, from Paris to London or Tokyo.

2021 will see the release of his second album, Rhizome, with a focus on the concepts of interdependence and creative ecosystems

Mouse on Mars, the Berlin-based duo of Jan St. Werner and Andi Toma, approach electronic music with an inexhaustible curiosity and unparalleled ingenuity. ‘AAI’ (Anarchic Artificial Intelligence) takes their fascination with technology and undogmatic exploration a quantum leap further.
Emerging from a primordial ooze of rolling bass and skittering electronics, hypnotic polyrhythms and pulsing synthesizers propel the listener across the
record’s expanse. Hidden in the duo’s hyper-detailed productions is a kind of meta-narrative.
Working with AI tech collective Birds on Mars and former Soundcloud
programmers Ranny Keddo and Derrek Kindle, the duo collaborated on the creation of bespoke software capable of modelling speech; text and voice from writer and scholar of African Studies Louis Chude-Sokei and DJ/producer Yağmur Uçkunkaya were fed into the software as a model, allowing Toma and Werner to control parameters like speed or mood, thereby creating a kind of speech
instrument they could control and play as they would a synthesizer.
The album’s narrative is quite literally mirrored in the music - the sound of an artificial intelligence growing, learning and speaking. This exploration of artificial intelligence as both a narrative framework and compositional tool, allowing the duo to summon their most explicitly science-fiction work to date. Original artwork by Casey Reas, inventor of the computer graphics language Processing.
Recently, Mouse on Mars received the 2020 Holger Czukay Prize for Pop Music.
Mouse on Mars have been regularly streaming performances throughout 2020, partnering with organizations like Goethe-Institut, Haus der Kulturen der Welt, Conditions of a Necessity and others and will continue these in 2021.
‘AAI’ is available on grey or black double LP packaged in a single sleeve with full colour insert / lyrics. CD comes with 8-panel poster booklet.
“Andi Toma and Jan St. Werner continue to create soundscapes that blur the line between programming and live musicianship, and sometimes between Earth and outer space.” - AV Club
“Enthralling and impossible to categorize.” - Pitchfork
“Sustained and ephemeral electronic sounds conjure unearthly open spaces… It’s not a song; it’s sound as a temporal phenomenon, a few minutes of sculpted attention.” - The New York Times

Mouse on Mars, the Berlin-based duo of Jan St. Werner and Andi Toma, approach electronic music with an inexhaustible curiosity and unparalleled ingenuity. ‘AAI’ (Anarchic Artificial Intelligence) takes their fascination with technology and undogmatic exploration a quantum leap further.
Emerging from a primordial ooze of rolling bass and skittering electronics, hypnotic polyrhythms and pulsing synthesizers propel the listener across the
record’s expanse. Hidden in the duo’s hyper-detailed productions is a kind of meta-narrative.
Working with AI tech collective Birds on Mars and former Soundcloud
programmers Ranny Keddo and Derrek Kindle, the duo collaborated on the creation of bespoke software capable of modelling speech; text and voice from writer and scholar of African Studies Louis Chude-Sokei and DJ/producer Yağmur Uçkunkaya were fed into the software as a model, allowing Toma and Werner to control parameters like speed or mood, thereby creating a kind of speech
instrument they could control and play as they would a synthesizer.
The album’s narrative is quite literally mirrored in the music - the sound of an artificial intelligence growing, learning and speaking. This exploration of artificial intelligence as both a narrative framework and compositional tool, allowing the duo to summon their most explicitly science-fiction work to date. Original artwork by Casey Reas, inventor of the computer graphics language Processing.
Recently, Mouse on Mars received the 2020 Holger Czukay Prize for Pop Music.
Mouse on Mars have been regularly streaming performances throughout 2020, partnering with organizations like Goethe-Institut, Haus der Kulturen der Welt, Conditions of a Necessity and others and will continue these in 2021.
‘AAI’ is available on grey or black double LP packaged in a single sleeve with full colour insert / lyrics. CD comes with 8-panel poster booklet.
“Andi Toma and Jan St. Werner continue to create soundscapes that blur the line between programming and live musicianship, and sometimes between Earth and outer space.” - AV Club
“Enthralling and impossible to categorize.” - Pitchfork
“Sustained and ephemeral electronic sounds conjure unearthly open spaces… It’s not a song; it’s sound as a temporal phenomenon, a few minutes of sculpted attention.” - The New York Times

LSD (lysergic acid diethylamide), is a hallucinogenic chemical compound, first synthesized in 1938. Upon its introduction into popular culture in the 1960’s it quickly shifted not only the mind of the artist but also the person experiencing the art.
Hip-Hop artist Cambatta is known for his thought provoking and psychedelic-inspired rhyme techniques. His newest album entitled, “LSD”, is just as the title insinuates- mind-bending and consciousness-shifting. This album was created throughout four years of psychedelic usage and reality-based life changing events. This process has made the album a duality of both real and surreal interpretations.
The album’s title is also an acronym for “Lunar Solar Duality,” alluding to the album’s dichotomy of light and dark conceptualizations and countless other polarizing and multi-entendre-latent compositions. Whether you have ever experienced LSD or not, this album is sure to impact anyone receptive and perceptive enough to take a dose.

Repress

First up is a reinvention from Coby Sey - the Lewisham, South London musician who's founded the Curl collective alongside Mica Levi and Brother May and collaborated with Babyfather, Klein and Tirzah, noted as one of the 50 best new artists of 2019 by the guardian. The tone and atmospherics of the original’s combination of synthesiser and woodwind are sliced into ghostly, mesmeric fragments and refitted in layers around loping, propulsive rhythms with something like UKG's steppiness - languid despite being uptempo, bright and almost gleeful despite the inescapable mournfulness of the source material.

Who’s The Technician? of Ireland's Wah Wah Wino label - turns in a remix that wrestles with the original over seven- and-a-half-minutes of relentlessly captivating deep digi-dancehall, less of a remix than a rebirth cycle, with the latent soul-splitting lament of Kolida Babo’s duduk copy-pasted onto a delirious mercurial lead rotating through hedonistic ecstasy and burnout, a snake-eating-its-own-tail of a version cracking open the third eye with a crowbar, plus a post- apocalyptic, ruthlessly space-invading dub that blasts the remix’s scale out to the starkest retreats of the universe in search of...

Apron new signing “Quaid”
From South London to Outer Space.

~ Dreem Static: residual signal from machines in standby mode ~

Having conjured up a virtual paradise in his last release ‘The Technological Afterlife’ Quaid’s third long player ‘Dreem Static’ takes us on a machine-funk odyssey to inner space:

“Every good story has a dream sequence. Where the narrative gets deep & surreal. This is mine. I made all the music through this lens. I wanted the tracks to be connected thematically in mood - so there’s a thread if you listen all the way through. Hope u feel it. Sweet dreems.”

• Quaid 2020

Recorded & Produced by J.Quaid at ‘The Odyssey’ London / Metropolis. Additional synths from Alex M. Mastered by Jason at Transition.

Minimal, elegant and supercharged with latent energy, Cop Envy & DJ Plead’s ‘Hinged’ EP consists of 3 tracks written over the course of two Melbourne summer nights. Luscious drums, sparse melodic elements and midnight-hued atmospheric flourishes are masterfully sequenced for maximum DJ enthrallment and dancefloor enjoyment. The release exudes depth and a natural balance of both artists’ respective styles that belies their long-standing friendship :) :) :) Rounding off a year that saw well-received solo EPs from both Cop Envy and DJ Plead (on Hypercolour and Nervous Horizon, respectively), their collaborative debut ‘Hinged’ will be released digitally and as a limited hand-stamped 12” vinyl on Friday 8 November.

War Jacques Greenes Debütalbum "Feel Infinite" (2017) der Soundtrack zum Vorglühen, so ist sein Nachfolger der Reflektionsmoment nach dem Rave, hochempfindsam, voller latenter Möglichkeiten. Gleichzeitig ist "Dawn Chorus" sein bislang kooperativstes Werk, an dem Filmkomponist Brian Reitzell ("Lost In Translation") und Cellist Oliver Coates teilnahmen, während Ambient-Künstlerin Julianna Barwick, Rapper Cadence Weapon und die kanadischen Sängerinnen Ebhoni und Rochelle Jordan Vocals beisteuerten. Statt Clubmusik macht Jacques Greene Musik über den Club, er remixt Radiohead, produziert Katy B und Tinashe und tourt mit The xx.

Patience began as bedroom synth project for songwriter Roxanne Clifford after the break up of her acclaimed indie pop band Veronica Falls. Born out of a desire to experiment with a new sound and analogue synthesizers, the project has since grown to become an all-encompassing persona and serves as the main vehicle for the full emotional spectrum always latent in Clifford’s songwriting. From her first long-sold-out 7” singles on Night School, her knack for melodic hooks and oblique emotional stances already contained a glistening sheen of promise. ‘Dizzy Spells’ serves as an intimate portrait of Clifford’s creative adventure, almost diaristic, conceived and recorded in her home studio, as well as with collaborators Todd Edwards (Daft Punk/Uk Garage fame), Lewis Cook (Free Love/Happy Meals) and engineer Misha Hering (Virginia Wing). Dizzy Spells delivers a debut album that twists Clifford’s songwriting into new shapes and ecstasies. The album dances around melancholy, thrown to the floor like a bad dream to be circled, emerging bright-eyed into the early morning full of hope. The Girls Are Chewing Gum (produced by Todd Edwards) bursts open Dizzy Spells like fresh fruit: sweet and rich with a synth-bass line beamed down from Chicago House heaven. Exquisitely sung by Clifford, it’s a wonderful, funky, instant-classic hinting at sexuality and memories dredged from our bodies’ secrets. The bouncy production expertly renders the addictive power of our ephemeral pleasures. Living Things Don’t Last chases themes of longing and loss, opening up into a life affirming chorus that sings of transience, the passing of time and railing against inertia. It’s the perfect example of a song formula that Roxanne Clifford has almost patented: simple and cutting straight to the point. There are shades of Strawberry Switchblade or French synth pop pioneer Jacno in the happy/sad dichotomy and it is all the better for it. Dizzy Spells features all three long-sold out singles, embedded in the full depth of Patience’s soundworld they fit like pieces of a puzzle. White Of An Eye, The Church and The Pressure—all recorded in Clifford’s former home of Glasgow—crackle with razor sharp melodies and dancefloor-ready dynamics. There are exciting additions to Patience’s sonic palette, brought into sharp relief on Voices In The Sand. In this song, a plaintive Clifford enunciates a heart-torn plea to the antagonist, a mournful cascade of synths and haunting vocals evocative of AC Marias, a sepia-toned ode to anxiety, “a storm is on the way”. On No Roses, a Vince Clarkesque production belies a sunburnt sadness. Clifford defiantly sings “you would go out tonight, but there’s nowhere you like,” describing a disenchantment with her adopted city of Los Angeles, she longs for home in a singular refrain “No roses… no roses for us.” An ode to English folk singer Shirley Collins, a surprising yet innate influence throughout Clifford’s work. On Moral Damage, former Veronica Falls bandmate Marion Herbain joins Clifford on an anglo-french duet that feels instant and spontaneous, a cutting comment on emotional accountability. More than a vehicle for Roxanne Clifford’s songwriting prowess, Patience is holding our hand through the night, dancing with tears in our eyes, dizzy and spellbound.

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 kind of melancholia I'm talking about, by contrast, consists not in giving up on desire, but in refusing to yield. It consists, that is to say, in a refusal to adjust to what current conditions call 'reality' - even if the cost of that refusal is that you feel like an outcast in your own time." (Mark Fisher, Ghosts Of My Life, Zero Books 2014, p. 24) In Ghosts of My Life: Writings on Depression, Hauntology and Lost Futures', the author Mark Fisher outlines - to put it in a big way - a resistant melancholy. This stands in contrast to leftist melancholy resignation', as well as something which Fisher does not talk about: its common masculine counterpart, habitual post-left cynicism - as in seen it all before'. Fisher calls this hauntological melancholy. Haunting, spooks, ghosts and apparitions are an almost constant presence on I Started Wearing Black', the second album by the Cologne-based artist Sonae (pronounced so-nah'). The term hauntology shares a fate with retro-futurism when it comes to inflationary overuse and abuse. It's a conceptual container that looks good and can hold a lot, indeed, too much. Furthermore, hauntology has its peak season behind it, a term on the threshold of its expiration date. Nevertheless, I would like to rehabilitate hauntology and use it properly to characterize I Started Wearing Black', because the term is rarely as compelling to describe music as is the case here. The most recent other example could be Asiatisch' by Fatma Al Qadiri, but with a completely different frame of reference. What are the ghosts of this music It rustles, crackles, ruffles, crunches, rattles, scrapes, sometimes a beat emerges from the constant noise, sometimes an obscure voice mumbles incomprehensibly, sometimes a melancholy piano figure is prevented by this noise from coming too much to the foreground. It definitely is eerie - to bring into play another term used by Fisher in the title of his latest book, The Weird and the Eerie'. In British pop-jargon, eerie first occurred to me more often when referring to particularly leftfield, spooky and... well... ghostly dub, a bass-heavy, echoing noise, from Augustus Pablo to Creation Rebel to Burial. Unlike the Wald & Wagner records by Wolfgang Voigt, Sonae is not a kind of neo-romantic veiling with a tendency for escapist nebula. It is more a noise of latency. The noise signals a latent - not necessarily acute - threat, a latent uneasiness about... yes... about what About a System Immanent Value Defect' That's the name of a track on I Started Wearing Black' where something that sounds like a French Horn (or a foghorn) battles for attention through or against the background noise. An email from Sonae: The piece 'System Immanent Value Defect' should actually be called 'I See Turkey'. I wrote it for my fellow student Elif - she is a pianist and Gezi Park activist from Istanbul. Through her I witnessed the inner conflict and agitation that political circumstances can create: her feelings of guilt when there was an attack, with her safe in Germany as a student, watching the events from afar. It was horrible. When her mother begged her not to come home because she feared for her safety, I felt a cold shiver run down my spine. I started with the piece from this mood, beginning with the piano, then the noise (modulated sinusoidal curves), which reminded me of waves and the then heatedly discussed Mediterranean sea: atmospheric, melancholy motifs. In contrast is the anger, the pressure, represented in corresponding sounds - hopefully audible! - During this time I started to think about world views as they can be found around the globe, in how far they held by societies and their political representation. I realized that I know of no political system that is actually about the people and what would do them good. It's always about positions, power, money. I thought that was a lot more frightening on a global scale than merely viewing Turkey in isolation. That's why the piece is called "System Immanent Value Defect", because our world suffers from precisely that. Everywhere, it's all about the wrong things.' Between the wrong things there are happy moments. In the title track, after 184 seconds of rattling and hissing, a beat is unleashed, like an arrow released from a spanned bow, a beatific relief, if there is such a thing. White Trash Rouge Noir' first meanders along spookily, then after 144 seconds it transforms itself into a distant cousin of Einstu¨rzende Neubauten's Yu¨ Gung', but there is no Big Male Ego to be fed here, and the black in the album title is a completely different type of black from that of the Neubauten. Furthermore, I Started Wearing Black' was finished long before the black dresses were worn at the Golden Globes as a sign of protest against sexual violence. Sonae writes that she herself started wearing black some time ago. Her reasons are so-called personal ones: ... resulting from an individual situation (lovesickness), I started to wear black (gaining weight and feeling ugly).' The political dimension of gaining weight, feeling ugly and therefore dressing in black in I Started Wearing Black' lurks within the noise and never becomes explicit and only rarely manifest - or a manifesto. Sonae writes about the track We Are Here': A piece for minorities... in this case, considering the current pop-feminist discourse, explicitly for women. Female artists have long been saying loud and clear that 'we are here' and 'electronic music is not a boys club!' But this pop-feminist moment should only be seen as one part of the dedication of the piece. It is for minorities, for the oppressed, who didn't belong enough.'

Klaus Walter

There is something singularly unique and peculiar in the degree to which seemingly unsettling themes and extreme taboos have been explored, most notably in the medium of film, in the land of Nippon. Free from the constraints of reality, notions of grotesque brutality, torture, fetishism, and sadomasochism, to name a few, have oftentimes served as driving motifs in the examination of the true nature of violence latent in the most repressed reaches of the human mind. Concurrently, in the realm of electronic music, many Japanese producers have often been able to cultivate and harness a daring yet distinctly refined and inimitable form of organized sonic chaos, one almost instantly recognizable to the occidental ear. The music of Tomohiko Sagae, and in particular his latest contribution to Furanum's catalogue, The Spurt of Blood, is perhaps a quintessential example of the confluence of the former themes and latter medium.
At the outset of the record, the beholder is faced with the 'Vacant Eyes' of a staggering monstrosity, a subdued and subjugated automata in the midst of a bleak dystopia, nearly lifeless but for the grudgingly conceded advance of its death march. As a battery of gratuitous aural violence led by a dominant synth is rapidly unleashed in the subsequent composition, a growing malaise transforms into fractured bone and psyche alike, with no distinction made anymore between the tearing of metal, flesh, or the fabric of the mind. Culminating in 'Severe Pain', with limits of endurance breached and descent into madness the only seeming form of respite, relentlessly rolling drums and hauntingly sublime howls provide the context for the dawning realization of pain as a virtue in and of itself, when a demented pleasure and the exhilarative liberation that lies therein begins to emerge. In the final act, reinterpreted by Furanum stalwarts Uncto, roles are tellingly reversed as the vacant eyes of the victim become that of the oppressor. With cold-blooded precision, the original is reengineered into a force of merciless domination, its elements machined and recalibrated for pure power.Words: PSD

Baptise & Pierre Colleu
French brothers Baptiste & Pierre Colleu have been making music together since they were children. They spent a chunk of their childhood in Africa, which they say has inspired their work in the studio. That influence is submerged fairly deep on 'Dolphin Kid,' the title track for these two EPs. There's an undercurrent of eerie soulfulness and woody percussion accents running through this oddly alluring cosmic-house seducer, but its roots are more Balearic than Afrobeat.

The five remixes of 'Dolphin Kid' enhance the Colleu brothers' original in incrementally fascinating ways. On 'Coyote's Intense Mix,' the respected UK duo augment the laid-back rhythm with nuanced 303 twangs and boldface the hand percussion to magnify its latent funkiness. L.I.E.S. recording artist Willie Burns slows 'Dolphin Kid''s pace to a majestic, hollowed-out, dub-funk strut. It's unfathomably deep. Seattle tech-house maverick Jon McMillion serves up the most twisted, sinister version here, warping the main synth part into a disorienting swirl of borborygmi while intensifying the rhythmic urgency and expanding the sound palette. The second EP concludes with two masterly remixes by Black Merlin. His 'Romance in the Dark Mix' turns 'Dolphin Kid' into a chilling, Goblin-esque piece of dungeon ambience. But it's Merlin's nearly 13-minute 'Peyote Mix' that really reels in the cinematic magic, as he launches the cut even deeper into the black, adding thrusting, throbbing disco kicks and enough horror/thriller-film soundtrack signifiers to give John Carpenter a perma-grimace. Poor 'Dolphin Kid' has come to a gory, but very exciting end.