quête:m fix

Vines, the solo project of New York-based multi-instrumentalist and composer Cassie Wieland, offers a window into her inner world through expansive swaths of sound. She pieces together a celestial mix of synths, percussion, strings, and vocoded voice, making music that is at once deeply personal and cinematic in scope. This diaristic approach first took shape with her 2023 EP Birthday Party, and is crystallized on her debut LP, I’ll be here. With the sweeping and vulnerable I’ll be here, Vines arrives fully formed as an artist who crafts deeply resonant and open music–the kind that invites listeners in to listen, reflect, and share in the journey of learning through living.

“It was through making music that I was able to meet myself,” Wieland said. “Anything I’m going through or feeling is something that somebody else out there can relate to, and that’s really special to me.”

I’ll be here is both a culmination of years spent creating gossamer soundscapes and an opening to a new journey for Wieland as an artist. The album grew out of her years as a composer and songwriter, and builds on the language she developed on Birthday Party, which transformed the tumultuous feelings of the passing of time into minimalist meditations. It was just a start, though–a prologue, a development of the kind of language and ideas she wanted to express. With I’ll be here, she digs deeper and writes music that feels more sprawling, further solidifying her singular voice.

Wieland’s musical composition process is similar to journaling, lending itself to the music’s honesty. When she writes, she makes room for all the ideas she has; in these sessions, there are no wrong ideas, and she allows the music to be attuned to the experiences she’s having at the time. With I’ll be here, Wieland zeroes in on themes of anxiety, loneliness, navigating human connection, and having to grow up from a young age, ultimately coming to a place of acceptance. And though it began as a journal written in solitude, her collaborators shape the music with her.

Working with friends, in fact, was a crucial part of bringing the record to life. “Everything that was supposed to happen came together so easily because of the people involved,” Wieland said. I’ll be here was co-produced and recorded with Wieland’s longtime collaborator Mike Tierney, a four time Grammy-nominated engineer who has worked with artists across the contemporary classical and experimental scene like minimalist pioneer Steve Reich, LA’s preeminent classical ensemble Wild Up, and various bands on Bang on a Can’s Cantaloupe Music label. Percussionist and composer Adam Holmes and violinist Adrianne Munden-Dixon are two other longtime collaborators who are frequent fixtures of her live show. Holmes plays synths, drums, and banjo; in live settings, his kit is loaded with elements of the songs that are then triggered by MIDI, making the music an interactive, evolving experience. The album’s gentle, filamented edges are colored by Munden-Dixon, whose poignant string melodies elevate Wieland’s introspective compositions, as well as cellist Helen Newby, saxophonists Julian Velasco and Jordan Lulloff, and bassist Pat Swoboda.

Wieland takes an economic approach to writing music, building the swirling and immersive landscapes of Vines through short melodies, lyrics, and phrases. As each element layers and interweaves, they grow into sprawling webs of ghostly sound. Prior to Vines, Wieland composed pieces for other people to play using a minimalist’s sensibility, writing slowly unfolding melodies for instruments like violin and saxophone. In recent years, she sharpened her solo style across a variety of singles and covers which have garnered significant attention on social media for their emotional resonance (“being loved isn't the same as being understood” in particular went massively viral on TikTok in 2024). Birthday Party, her debut as Vines, brought her writing to a much more intimate space, centering on her vocoded voice cloaked in feathery reverb. A series of recent singles, meanwhile, including “I am my home,” showcase the way that Wieland’s music is born from the story of her innermost feelings, extending far beyond just the self.

Though Wieland’s music often deals with dark themes, it unfolds with tender melancholy, the kind that feels like a warm embrace. On “Evicted,” Wieland wonders if she’s getting sick or moving on, if she’s lost or found. Her vocals expand with each lyrical repetition, as the instrumentals slowly encircle and the music’s rhythm grows and bursts into a heart-wrenching, yet radiant wave reminiscent of post-rock bands like Explosions in the Sky. “Tired” follows a similar trajectory, building from a looping, melancholy rhythm and floating lyrics into a solemn resignation. Elsewhere, Wieland takes a more ruminative approach: “Omw” begins with twinkling piano and melancholy strings that gradually transform into an undulating mass. It is a song born out of the warm feeling of reminiscence, the slight return of hope that comes with nostalgia.

With any searching journey, there is also a point of understanding. The title track closes the album with the freedom of acceptance. A marching drum beats steadily beneath Wieland’s open vocals, moving forward, ever onward as it flies into the ether. In Wieland’s delicately textured music, there is room to come into yourself, and learn to love whomever that is. I’ll be here is a special space that can be all your own, one in which to feel what needs to be felt. “This is music for your story,” Wieland said. “I want you to use it how you need it.”

Recorded at the legendary Atlantis Studio in Stockholm, Words Were Coming Out Our Ears captures a unique musical encounter in the moment. Pianist Johan Graden, bassists Vilhelm Bromander and Pär Ola Landin, and drummer Nils Agnas entered the studio without a fixed plan – the music emerged organically through improvisation and attentive interplay.

What sets this album apart is the instrumentation. With two double bass players, the music gains an unusual depth and weight, where the bass not only supports the harmony but also takes on melodic and textural roles. This is no traditional piano trio – rather, it's an ensemble where roles shift constantly, and the sonic landscape is shaped by sensitivity and openness.

One track features additional layers of sound with guest musicians Katarina Agnas on contrabassoon and Emil Strandberg on trumpet.

With Words Were Coming Out Our Ears, the ambition is to create a cohesive sonic identity – to allow each piece to take its own shape while still belonging to a unified whole. The music invites deep listening, guided by intuition and presence in the moment.

As part of Ace 50 BGP has hooked up with our old friends at Concord Music to reissue one of the most important albums in our story. In 1987 as the dance jazz scene morphed into acid jazz Billy Hawks ‘Oh Baby (I Believe I’m Losing You)’ was filling the dance floors where either Gilles Peterson or Baz Fe Jazz were playing.

The Prestige Records album, “Heavy Soul!”, that featured the track, was impossible to find, and frustrated DJs were desperately trying to find a copy. BGP - the Ace label that the two DJs helmed - reissued the album and put the in-demand track onto a 12 inch single. With supply sufficient it became a club smash, crossing over to become a mod classic and one of the most important cuts from our scene.

In the ensuing years the track's status has remained undimmed and the album has never turned up in significant numbers, and yet it has never been reissued since. With an attention to detail that has always been the Ace way, we have carefully mastered the record to be as close as possible to the sound of the original Van Gelder mastering of 1967, and created and accurate representation of the album and label cover art.

Hawks never lived to be rediscovered, but through our musical detective work we tracked down his brother and found out as much of his story as feasible and we also unearthed a couple of pictures. The Virginian born organist with the amazing voice was a fixture on the North-Eastern lounge bar circuit, which was the entertainment backbone off Black American music at the time, and his full story is told on the illustrated inner sleeve that comes with this release

There’s a reason they call it deep House. On 'The New Jersey' EP, DJ Romain doesn’t just nod to his roots, he digs into them, scooping out a warm, rhythmic core that pulses with sweat, memory, and reverence. This is not a revival or a pastiche; it’s a love letter etched in drum machines and delay, from a producer who’s lived the lineage.

A fixture of late-’90s NYC dance floors, Romain cut his teeth in the city’s thumping underbelly, learning from the likes of Todd Terry and later carving his own signature into the genre’s sidewalk. Across these four freshly cut tracks, Romain channels the same urgency that once drove dance crews, celebrities, and nightlifers alike into motion, and still does.

Lead track “Hello New York” is a no-nonsense DJ tool, a serrated slice of big room energy built around snapping snares, a jackhammer kick, and a spoken word vocal that bristles with pride and uplift. “Put more cut in your strut… pride in your stride” - it’s part mantra, part mission statement. “But It’s Alright” flips the vibe, conjuring up basement jazz sessions through dusky chords and a muted, plucked bassline that slinks like a late-night subway ride.

On “Check Your Pockets,” the energy turns inward and abstract, a woozy, psychedelic House jam that feels like dancing through a heatwave haze. He wraps the record with “Deep Inferno,” a peak-time burner full of sticky Afro-funk polyrhythms, clashing vocal chops, and steam-pressure percussion. It’s unhinged, hypnotic, and gloriously raw.

Having revisited his archive with ‘The Lost D.A.T.S.' series, Romain returns to Hard Times not as a nostalgia act but as a flamekeeper - still innovating, still sweating, still firmly on the floor. The New Jersey EP is a love letter, yes, but it’s also a reminder: House never left. It just got deeper.

Danish Subnesia present their debut Vinyl release, combining tracks from their first Album 'The Beginning' (2023) & 'Range of Colors' (2025) assembling a sincere set of homespun pop beats teeming with Balearic soul, funk and jazz flavors. As Subnesia, producer Anders Ponsaing and saxophonist Michael Rune play it by ear. Following intuition rather than fixed genres or styles, the Danish duo have struck upon a creative vein of pop music that is both daring, poignant and wholly unpretentious. Strong grooves, often reminiscent of the hip-hop and r’n’b-tinged chart pop of the 2000’s, adorned with colorful instrumental leads and characteristic guest vocals.

Dana Schechter: Lap Steel Guitar, Bass, Electronics. - Paul Wallfisch: Piano, Organ, SOMA Pipe, Guitaret. Music from the Vienna Volkstheater production of Wolfram Lotz's play "Die Politiker" directed by Kay Voges; performed live in the theatre, spring 2022. These 2 beautiful exiles travel limbic landscapes and underwater dreams with a map that disintegrates instantly when viewed. Their fractured sounds dissolve and reconfigure endlessly in our cochlea and infest our imaginations with spiked armies of ultra-vivid, sentient and carnivorous coral predators, atavistically intent on devouring the sweet meat hiding deep in the center of the amygdala. Michael Gira (SWANS). Wallfisch has played in bands like Firewater and Little Annie, while Schechter has logged time with American Music Club, Angels of Light and her own Insect Ark, among others; both spent time touring and recording with SWANS. They've been friends since meeting in New York in the 1990s. Years later they forged a stronger connection as bandmates in Botanica. They renewed their artistic partnership in 2021, when Paul invited Dana to Vienna to develop the music for a theatrical spectacle called Die Politiker written by Kleist prize winner Wolfram Lotz. The music from the production provides the foundation for the duo's first album, The Heart of A Whale. Across its six intense tracks one can detect a subtle homage to storied Berlin musical traditions, as the pair puts a raw, often brutal veneer on songs steeped in Weimar cabaret (a la Tom Waits) but updated with a visceral mixture of noise, post-punk, and industrial elements. Performed on a panoply of instruments from bass, organ and lap steel to SOMA Synths, Guitaret, a variety of electronics and a grand piano hammered with a shoe, the music reflects the New York- Berlin nexus they've both been part of for decades. Echoes of Swans, Einstürzende Neubauten and The Birthday Party, but also hints of Throbbing Gristle, Eno and even William Basinski and Michael Gordon. The music can't be contained by any single tradition, with a decidedly experimental bent that ruptures the fixed rhythm of rock for something more theatrical and emotionally harrowing.

A small package that delivers a serious wallop, “Try No More” by Glitterin is guaranteed to provide some heat on dancefloors this Summer. From the juddering throb of the opening kicks to the ricocheting rhythms, the track fixes itself directly under the mirrorball from the outset. Produced by Jason Core, this is late night lover affair material that is brimming with energy. When the firework melody bursts, it ignites. Sharp and warm synth stabs are left smouldering by the driving and impassioned voice of Sandry Sanz. A tale of unrequited love unfolds between the cymbal crashes and spiralling synthines, lines that grow ever bolder through Tony David’s emotive guitar solo. The flip is dedicated to Core’s instrumentation with the range of analogue sounds and synthesizer intensity coming to the fore. Intricate patterns and counter melodies are woven, key shifts and pulsating percussion imbibe this dub mix with all the spirit of the original. Fierce and fiery from beginning to end.

Having crested the west coast modular-ambient wave in just a few releases - including 2018's Sharing Waves on the influential LA experimental imprint Leaving Records - Sean Hellfritsch has swapped the mossy analog synth improvisations of his prior output for refined melodic arrangements dressed in sprightly dawn-of-digital textures. Big Earth Energy plumbs the depths of Hellfritsch's multimedia mind and naturalist heart, spinning an impressionistic narrative world off of cultural touchstones like the PC game MYST, and the work of Studio Ghibli composer Joe Hisaishi. Inspired by the aforementioned, and guided by Hellfritsch's experience as an animator and filmmaker, Big Earth Energy is the soundtrack to a hypothetical video game with a pointedly ecological premise, and a twist of psychedelic charm. In Hellfritsch's imagined virtual journey, the player assumes the perspective of a treefrog sixty-five-million years ago, hopping epochs with each new level, forming a comprehensive picture of the massive changes the planet has gone through over the eons. The ultimate goal of the game is not to amass resources, defeat enemies, or gain power, but to fully witness the unfolding of one of the biggest systems of energy imaginable - or as the album's creator puts it - "to explore the incomprehensibly vast energetic expression and mystery that is Earth." Big Earth Energy is steeped in exploratory RPG intrigue, possibility, and contemplation, lovingly overlaid with Miyazaki-an sentiments and aesthetics. The through-composed, organic, meandering synthesis heard on previous Cool Maritime albums has been fully replaced by meticulous polygonal arrangements that recall the computerized sheen of late 80s work by composers like Hiroshi Yoshimura, and Yoichiro Yoshikawa - using true-to-period gear no less. Even given its referentiality, Big Earth Energy comes off as forward-facing where so much reminiscent music remains fixed to a bygone moment in pop culture. Hellfritsch has created a musical world where the endless verdancy of the biosphere finds its parallel in the golden age of early 1990s video games, and late 80s Japanese environmental music, all while pointing to a hopeful planetary and artistic future that vindicates the motives of all of these muses.

“Recorded at BBC Broadcasting House and partially aired on BBC Radio 3’s Late Junction, the first studio encounter between London-based duo Exotic Sin and Swiss percussionist Julian Sartorius is now published in full on this album from Sagome.

Winding through six distinct and interconnected paths, the trio effortlessly create a shared language in this expansive improvised session.

Listening back two years later — the session was recorded on March 24, 2023 — it’s evident how they build at a relaxed pace, offering space for the listener to enter into their evolving sound. Anchored by piano, delicate wood, metal, and air instruments, a fluid system of interactions develops: repeating, deepening, but not fixating. The direction of travel is not cyclical or linear and the pace insists on forward confidently, avoiding the trap or comfort of recurring motifs.

Percussion is not a timekeeper, but a key element, introducing new textures that even on the final track Path 6, trace out a horizon that feels more like a blurred beginning than a definitive end.

In Session, Exotic Sin moves into a lighter, perhaps more playful language for improvisation than on their debut album Customer’s Copy. This could be influenced by Sartorius’ tactile approach to sonic materials or the more stripped-back nature of the improvised session, with less emphasis on synthesised and electric sounds. While the emotional imprint from their debut album—murkier and insistent—remains, it has been aired out to dry. In Session, their sound-world is broad and moves with levity.”

Andrea Zarza Canova – April 2025


Music by
Kenichi Iwasa (electric and acoustic percussion, trumpet, horns, thumb piano, effects).
Naima Nefertari (piano, Yamaha keyboard, flute, bells, percussion).
Julian Sartorius (drums, percussion).

Recorded and mixed live for Late Junction at BBC Broadcasting House, London, on the 24th of March 2023 by Joe Yon and John Boland.
Mastered by Giuseppe Ielasi.
Produced by Silvia Malnati at Reduced Listening for BBC Radio 3.
Extracts from the session were played on Late Junction on the 14th of April 2023.
Artwork by Josef William Back.
Graphic design by Nicola Tirabasso.

Glasgow-based Effective Dreaming—the solo project of Scottish artist and musician Iain Ross—unveils Dream Catalogue Vol. 1, arriving June 21st, 2025 (Summer Solstice) via Swedish experimental label Fluere Tapes.

Issued as a limited run of 50 cassettes, each adorned with hand-worked, corroded copper sheet inserts and labels, Dream Catalogue Vol. 1 feels less like a release and more like an unearthed artefact: weathered, humming, quietly alive. The materials echo the music’s exploration of fragile impermanence and erosion: oxidised metal, magnetic tape, hiss, hum. A tactile world where sound wears its decay like a patina.

Across its length, the album unfolds in a series of flickering vignettes—drifting, dissolving, reappearing. Shaped by synths, environmental recordings, tape loops, and soft drones, the pieces move like glints of light on water—never fixed, always in motion. Achingly beautiful melodies rise and vanish, tracing fragile pathways through a landscape of shifting sensations. Some moments glow with a gentle warmth, like sunlit glass or breath on a fogged mirror. Others slip into shadow: slow, submerged passages feel closer to memory than music. The album feels loose and weightless, yet dense with feeling—a presence more sensed than held.

There is no fixed narrative here—only fragments and artefacts, half-remembered places, echoes of dreams. Each track hovers just at the edge of clarity, evoking not specific stories, but moods, textures, and the quiet drift of time. It’s music that feels both intimate and remote, like overhearing a distant signal only you can understand.

The name Effective Dreaming is drawn from Ursula K. Le Guin’s The Lathe of Heaven, where a dreamer's visions alter the very fabric of reality—past and present reshaped, histories rewritten, unnoticed by all but the dreamer himself. In a similar spirit, Ross’s music inhabits a space where memory, perception, and matter blur—where each sound carries the residue of something once real, now transformed and dissolving as one drifts through the seams of the world.

Dream Catalogue Vol. 1 is a meditation on texture, transience, and the quiet resonance of what slips away.

For listeners of: Wave Temples, Dolphins Into the Future, Guenther Schlienz"

We always knew we would return to this project because Brutalism remains a profound part of our lives, something we cherish deeply. Inspired by the photographs we have been capturing for a new book, the music emerged effortlessly. Documenting these buildings feels instinctive; this is where we belong.

Our unwavering fixation on symmetry, synchronisation, and repetition endures, but this time we believe the music reveals a more emotional depth. That is the direction we have been moving towards. Some things simply take time, yet this album seemed to take shape of its own accord.

Join us as we walk through these modern day cathedrals, monuments to the people.

Nach 20 Jahren kehrt Daniel Graves zu dem Album zurück, mit dem alles begann.

Closer to Human ist nicht nur eine Neuauflage - es ist eine Auferstehung. Mit denselben Synthesizern und Samples, die bei der Originalaufnahme von 2005 verwendet wurden, hat Graves jeden Track akribisch von Grund auf neu eingespielt. Und das Ergebnis? Eine Neuinterpretation, die ihren Wurzeln treu bleibt und gleichzeitig eine Tiefe und Klarheit erreicht, die nie zuvor möglich war. AESTHETIC PERFECTION hat noch nie besser geklungen.

In einer exklusiven Partnerschaft mit Dependent Records wird Closer to Human in begrenzter Stückzahl als 1-Disc-Digisleeve, 2-Disc-Digipak und farbiges Vinyl erhältlich sein.

UK Salford band The Ting Tings released their first catalogue of hits in 2008, with global success taking them on an immediate 6-year world tour. That’s Not My Name, Shut Up & Let Me Go, Great Dj & Hands, still regular fixtures on playlists and syncs worldwide.

They vowed never to make the same record twice, 5 albums in, they are sticking to their word.

Their new album ‘Home’ was recorded in a wooden decked analogue studio is an easy breezy yacht rock album committed to traditional songwriting inspired by their all-time favourites, Fleetwood Mac, Dire Straits, The Eagles, The Carpenters, Cosby Stills & Nash, Supertramp, Christopher Cross, best heard in a car, preferably with the sea in view and the windows down.

Limited edition of 100 items, hand-stamped and individually numbered with photographic insert.

After the feature of steifl on mental concept 161616, now comes a full length edit by the dude from the Netherlands. Acid, breaks and wonky textures for the heads. Includes a download code for bandcamp!

The Understated Debut That Launched a Peerless Career: Bob Dylan Is the Clearest Connection to the Singer-Songwriter's Folk Roots
Pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl for Reference Playback: Mobile Fidelity 33RPM SuperVinyl Mono LP Features the Direct Sound Dylan Intended

1/4" / 15 IPS analogue mono master to DSD 256 to analogue console to lathe

Bob Dylan's self-titled 1962 debut is as understated of an entrance as any significant musician as ever made. Well-versed in American roots music, Dylan simultaneously pays homage to tradition and extends it by putting his own stamp on classic material that metaphorically functions as the soil of contemporary songs and styles. Free of ego, and performed with masterful conviction, Bob Dylan ranks with the initial efforts of giants like Elvis Presley and the Rolling Stones.

Nodding to Woody Guthrie and re-imagining Blind Lemon Jefferson's "See That My Grave Is Kept Clean," Dylan straddles the past and future. He authoritatively displays the ability to handle weighty topics such as death, sorrow, and lamentation with the vaudeville flair, bluesy mannerisms, and poignant command of an artist three times his then-20-year-old age.

Sourced from the original master tapes, housed in a Stoughton jacket, and pressed on MoFi SuperVinyl at Fidelity Record Pressing, Mobile Fidelity's numbered-edition 180g 33RPM mono SuperVinyl LP brings the contents of this seminal release as close as they've ever come to live-in-the-studio quality. Transparent to the source, Dylan's voice, acoustic guitar, and harmonica come across with exceptional realism — the "husk and bark" to which Robert Shelton referred in his legendary New York Times review of a Dylan appearance at Gerde's Folk City — courtesy of the format’s nearly non-existent noise floor, groove definition, and quiet surfaces.

Heard in the original mono configuration, Dylan’s vocals are in the heart of the musical action and as one with the accompaniment. This reissue paints an incredibly accurate portrait of the concrete mass of sound that features no artificial panning and offers a straight-ahead immersion into the music producer John Hammond recorded in just two days in November 1961.

Though much has been made of the commercial indifference that greeted the album upon its low-key release, focusing on sales figures and the reaction of a public not yet hip to Dylan's name miss the forest for the trees. Distinguished from the era's other folk efforts by way of the singer-songwriter’s determination, brazenness, and lived-through-this worldliness, Bob Dylan lays the groundwork for the path he'd soon trailblaze and everyone else would follow.

As Dylan scholar and pop-culture critic Greil Marcus observed in 2010: "Everybody knew Joan Baez and the Kingston Trio; if you knew Bob Dylan, you knew something other people didn't, something that soon enough everybody had to know. Within a year, an album could put an adjective in front of the singer's name as if it were already common coin."

Mono is how almost everyone first heard Dylan’s opening salvo. A career like none other starts here.

MoFi SuperVinyl:

Developed by NEOTECH and RTI, MoFi SuperVinyl is the most exacting-to-specification vinyl compound ever devised. Analog lovers have never seen (or heard) anything like it. Extraordinarily expensive and extremely painstaking to produce, the special proprietary compound addresses two specific areas of improvement: noise floor reduction and enhanced groove definition. The vinyl composition features a new carbonless dye (hold the disc up to the light and see) and produces the world's quietest surfaces. This high-definition formula also allows for the creation of cleaner grooves that are virtually indistinguishable from the original lacquer. MoFi SuperVinyl provides the closest approximation of what the label's engineers hear in the mastering lab.

Corrosiv, the sophomore album from Orchestroll, reveals the duo at their most mature and vulnerable. Originally conceived as a reflection on hybridity and bastardization, the album deploys New Age and ambient compositional tropes as a launchpad, exposing their trite sanctity to the realities of corrosion. Having come of age in the 1970s and 1980s, the New Age movement perdures today as a domain of contradictions; its promise of transcendence riddled with the very commercialized dogma from which its adherents claim to flee. Healing modalities such as reiki, crystal therapy, and sound baths are simultaneously pathways to solace and sites of exploitation; their sonic counterparts—ethereal synth pads, shimmering textures, celestial drones—claim to facilitate meditation and enlightenment while devolving into empty signifiers of vitality. With Corrosiv, Orchestroll displays neither reverence nor disdain toward New Age: they exhume it instead, revealing the saccharine effervescence and commodified murk undergirding its aesthetics. The result is intoxicating—disquieting.

Born from a two-week residency at EMS Studios and expanded through a performance at MUTEK Montreal’s 25th anniversary, Corrosiv has since outgrown its original conceptual nucleus, taking on a broader scope. Its inquiry into New Age ideology’s voided rhetoric and aesthetic mysticism now informs a broader interrogation of cultural mediocrity, anti-authoritarianism, gatekeeping, music industry toxicity, and the crumbling edifice of late capitalism and techno-feudalism—all the mechanisms by which meaning is stripped from ceremony, and once-potent forms of knowledge are subsumed into the machinery of economic extraction, severed from their original essence, and transformed into hollow simulacra. Corrosiv distills these themes through a loose narrative: a soul, fixated on wellness as dictated by cosmetic economism, becomes ensnared in an endless afterlife, unable to transcend and shed its dilapidated consciousness.

Framed as an act of audio dissolution, the album thus engages in an alchemical process, whereby complex waveshaping, morphing synthesis, and distortion enact a ritual of fragmentation. There is also friction: between the rigid, mechanical imposition of systematized order and the untamed, chaotic force of organic metamorphosis. Here corrosion and confinement are not solely conceptual motifs; they are enacted in real time, sculpting the album’s terrain. Scraping, tarnishing, degradation—the languid wear of form and substance—become instruments in their own right: buffing as abrasion, entrapment as transformation, corrosion as a means of reconfiguration. The ‘protagonist,’ if there must be one, is the listener, caught within the throes of structural determinism and the potential for emancipation, unable to pass into something greater as the specters of collapsed futures accumulate in the margins.

Corrosiv extends its reach through collaborations with familiar voices: Heith (PAN), VISIO (Haunter), Femminielli (Drowned by Locals), Habib Bardi (Interzone), and Jiyoung Wi (Enmossed, Psychic Liberation, Doyenne) each leave their imprint on its sprawling landscape. At 1h16m, it is a procession, dense with earworms that burrow into the listener’s unconscious.

Misshapen, broken-down metals leach copper into blood, acid reflux burning through the core. Psyche disaggregates into cosmic turmoil, drifting between planes—tongue on rustline, gullet laced with solvent hymns, molars unlatching, bitcrushed to marrowspill. A spasm of brine, ferrous scripture, venomtext blooming in leaden rivulets, cartilage smoldering in phosphor decomposition, synapses drowning in a quicksilver choir. Crest of bile, churning ore, breath clotting into arsenic mist, vein-thread cinched, a corrosive gospel, limb by limb, oxidized to silence.

Ultimately, as the music exhales its final breath, its residue refuses to dissipate—and stillness alone remains. There are no conclusions here—no resolution, no collapse—only the slow drift outward of a vessel unmoored, lost in the sea of symbolic souring. Corrosiv sings the song of a world barren of prophecy, littered with aesthetic detritus. Whether this magic has been transfigured or simply worn away is unclear: the last breath dissipates, but the oxidation does not stop. The silence, too, will decay.

Conceptualized, composed, performed, recorded, mixed, engineered and produced by Jesse Osborne-Lanthier, and Asaël Richard-Robitaille in 2023 and 2024 at Elektron Musik Studion (EMS) - Stockholm, Sweden and Landsc8pe Studio - Montréal, QC, Canada.
Artwork by Jesse Osborne-Lanthier.
Mastered by Stephan Mathieu @ Schwebung Mastering.