Suche:micro edge

STAR CREATURE's Global Caress series started this year off with a bang with newcomer ARSENE's "JACK SHIT" 7" selling out almost immediately. The followup here might just do the same… Another gruesome twosome of hard hitting, left field, electro acid. The half-Finnish, half-Estonian duo LLL add a distinctly Baltic outsider edge to the classic combo of Chicago jackin' house meets UK sound system culture. The fellahs tap an arsenal of original gear rescued and revived over the years to create hyper-saturated textures, thuggish rhythmic beats, squelchy acidic synths and mischievous microphone miscellany

The Ottawa composer/performer and head of Black Bough Records plays every instrument on his CST debut: an accessibly avant-garde work of dark/ambient modern chamber music. Mark Molnar has been a linchpin of the Ottawa experimental music scene for over two decades, spanning contemporary classical, electroacoustic, industrial/noise, and improv. As a string player in a wide range of projects, an organizer and curator of innumerable shows, and via his own avantgarde label Black Bough Records, Molnar's unflagging contributions to independent music culture in Canada's capital city have been significant. EXO is his Constellation debut: a remarkable and bracing suite of post-classical composition on which Molnar plays every instrument. Meticulously self-recorded, primarily with strings, harp, and piano, EXO balances thematic melodicism, polytonality, and dissonance across three elegiac pieces of exquisitely expressive dynamism. This is exacting modern chamber music that blends formal and harmonic complexity with a solemn emotive sensibility accessible to a broad audience. Listeners that yearn for some edge and disquietude in a landscape of often all-too-approachable post-classical music should find EXO eminently worth their time and attention. While Molnar is a highly trained string player, and studied music under Aubrey Wolfe, microtonality with James Tenney, and composition with R. Murray Schafer, his trajectory has been entirely and intentionally outside the academy, signalling a socio-artistic commitment to DIY culture, forged from an early passion for the sonic worlds of post-hardcore, post-punk, no-wave, free improv, power electronics, and other independent/underground musics. His classically-informed works have been described as "tense currents of musical modernism invigorated with punk's raw vitality." EXO carries an undercurrent influenced by dark industrial and ambient metal in particular, with microphones purposely placed to pick up the low-end frequencies of the piano body, and of a bass drum positioned as a resonant skin in the acoustic space; an electroacoustic strategy organically meshed to the crisply defined and pristinely recorded pointillisms and polychords of strings, harp, and piano, which feed into this noisefloor of crepuscular sub-bass disquietude and decay. It's a production aesthetic that lends EXO a distinct undertow of tension and feeling, a sort of roiling maximalism where the chamber instrumentation traces arcs and waves of form and flow as if drawn from a dark, impervious ocean below. It also reinforces the profound hermeticism of Molnar's process, as a forbiddingly solitary creative act of immersion and navigation. The album artwork, featuring semiabstract stills of the sea by British photographer Ed Allen, further reifies this metaphor. The album's opening piece 'Sub Luna' (and its shortest at 8 minutes) showcases Molnar's adeptness at naturalistic and flowing complexity: tight cascades of climbing and descending chordal clusters hold their polytonal densities for various durations, yielding to more clarified harmonic suspensions and motifs, as melodic themes led primarily by violins in the higher registers provide a fractured lyricism. Molnar says: "the opening and closing figures of this piece act as opposing shorelines; the shorelines provide a reliable expression of range and key signature, and the tides come in and swallow them up, the motion of a body that addresses the relationship between states of lucidity and melodic figures." On 'Terre Sacer' everything happens in soupier waters, as a slow and doleful theme, anchored by grinding bass notes, circles in a gyre of dark resonances, until glistening strings gradually ascend to enrobe a plaintive and gently harrowing single-voiced ostinato over the composition's final third. Molnar's drone, ambient, minimalist, and goth-industrial influences are on display here. Side Two of EXO features the 18-minute multi-movement 'pallida Mors' (pale death): a waterfall of heterophony introduces dense chordal movements where strings are recorded and mixed to evoke pipe organ, in the album's most overtly dissonant and (anti)liturgical sequence. This gives way to ever more open and fragile spaces, before a resurgence of dark clusters and noise treatments introduces a final repeating piano coda, shrouded in devastated bass resonance, settling into what Molnar calls "a meditative hollow." Constellation is honoured to release this work by Mark Molnar, a longtime fellow-traveler whose selfless and boundlessly generous activities as an independent arts enabler sometimes obscure his own accomplished and uncompromising artistry. We trust EXO can help shed some much deserved light on this fine composer. Thanks for listening.

The 2015 edition of Winnipeg’s send + receive festival, focussed on rhythm, turned out to be a generative meeting of minds. There, Mark Fell encountered the music of Will Guthrie, a meeting that was eventually to result in the frenetic acoustic drumkit and digital synthesis pairing heard on Infoldings and Diffractions (2020). At the same festival, Limpe Fuchs first heard and appreciated the music of Mark Fell, planting the seed of a collaboration that came to fruition when Fell (along with his son Rian Treanor) visited Fuchs at her home in Peterskirchen, Germany in September 2022. Black Truffle is pleased to announce the release of the results of this extensive session in the audacious form of a triple LP, housing over two hours of music across its six sides. The collaboration might appear unlikely: what common ground could exist between Fuchs, classically trained pianist, legend of improvised music, instrument builder and sound sculptor active since the 1960s, whose group Anima Sound connected the dots between free jazz, krautrock and ritual, and Fell, proponent of radical computer music, known for his bracingly austere productions that twist remnants of club music into algorithmic stutters? For all their seeming disparity in technology, approach and background, the music on Dessogia/Queetch/Fauch makes it immediately evident the pair share a great deal in their essentially percussive approach and ability to, in Fuch’s phrase, ‘establish silence’. Recording at her home studio, Fuchs had the use of her entire array of instruments, found, invented, and traditional, and treats the listener to some that don’t often make their way to concerts, including extensive passages performed (with Gundis Stalleicher) on pieces of wooden parquetry. Alongside metallic, wooden and skin percussion of all kinds, sounded and struck in every conceivable way, we also hear bamboo flute, viola, and Fuchs’ distinctive free-form vocalisations. Fell also stretched himself, with his contributions ranging from characteristically fizzing pitched percussive pops to swarms of sliding tones and abstract digital noise. Showing both remarkable restraint and improvisational freedom, much of the music consists of duets between a single percussion instrument and a distinctive mode of digital sound, often lingering in one timbral-rhythmic space for minutes at a time. Improvisational forward momentum coexists with a free-floating, wandering quality. On opener ‘Dessogia I’, the shimmering almost-gilssandi tones of Fuchs’ enormous set of microtonally tuned metal tubes ripples across Fell’s rubbery pulse, which moves up the frequency spectrum as Fuchs becomes more animated and switches to horn. At some points, as on the metallic chiming tones that open ‘Fauch I’, only the unexpected dynamic behaviour of Fell’s sounds distinguish them from Fuchs’ acoustic instruments. At others, like on ‘Queetch III’, the waves of sliding tones and noise textures are bracingly synthetic, joined by piercing squeaks and scrapes from Fuchs’ metal objects. Epic in scope, immersing the listener in an entirely distinctive world of sounds, and thrillingly bold in its melding of the most ancient musical procedures with cutting edge technologies, Dessogia/Queetch/Fauch is an unexpected major statement from two of the great mavericks of contemporary music.

Amputechture Beneath the technical flash, the fury, the fearless creative brinkmanship of the first two Mars Volta albums lay a potent seam of the blues, an existential vexation that powered every twist and turn of Omar and Cedric’s imaginations. That mournful vibe would come to the surface of the group’s third full-length Amputechture, a simmering/blistering set that was unquestionably the group’s darkest yet. There was no overarching theme here, no interlinking concept binding the songs together, though Cedric concedes that, lyrically, the album was influenced “by a lot of stuff I was going through, a really bad break-up and a lot of other crazy stuff, and trying to put that feeling into the record.” But Amputechture – its name another of the late Jeremy Michael Ward’s invented words – was no downbeat bummer. Opener Vicarious Atonement might’ve been a deliciously gloomy, slow-burning thing, capturing Cedric in delirious duet with Omar’s swooning guitar lines, accompanied by squalling saxophone by Adrian Terrazas-Gonzales and dream-frequency fuckery by the group’s new sonic manipulator, former At The Drive- In member Paul Hinojos. But second track Tetragrammaton swiftly set pulses racing, an epic-in-miniature and containing more ideas within its 16 minutes than most bands manage over an entire career, its proggy, complex guitar figures tessellating in infinite configurations and converging as if conforming to mathematical formulae from another reality. The raw material Amputechture was hewn from started life on the road. Omar now travelled with his own mobile recording studio – a little Neve ten-channel tape recorder and an array of microphones – and was able to work on new ideas on tourbuses, in hotel rooms and during soundcheck (and, occasionally, after the show was done). After touring for Frances The Mute was complete, Omar relocated to Amsterdam, staying with his photographer friend Danielle Van Ark and her partner, Nils Post. It’s here that he demoed Amputechture, flying in engineer Jon DeBaun, drummer Jon Theodore and his brother, Chino, to work on these raw sketches. He later returned to Los Angeles, where the album was finally recorded. Omar ceded guitar duties to his dear friend and kindred spirit John Frusciante, instead assuming the role of musical director. “I wanted to hear the sound of the band,” he says. “I thought, I’ll be able to sit at the console, feel the air of the speakers moving, the unified sound of everything, and not feel distant from it. It was fun, but it was also challenging.” Part of Omar’s new method was to teach the musicians their parts only moments before the tapes rolled. “To keep things fresh, and to keep everyone on edge,” he says, before chuckling. “No, not on edge – on their toes. Amputechture would prove The Mars Volta’s most diverse set yet, drawing into the group’s tornado of influences moments of fiery jazz spirituality and esoteric folk introspection, finding space for passages of devastating subtlety and also their most fierce and full-on moments to date. The aforementioned Vicarious Atonement found its meditative mood echoed by Asilos Magdalena, an intimate, acoustic piece that invoked traditional Latin folk music, as Cedric sang in Spanish a sorrowful tale of a lost soul’s quest for sanctuary within a Magdalen Asylum, a refuge set up by the Catholic church for “fallen women”. The shadowy, sinister closer El Ciervo Vulnerado, meanwhile, tapped into the darker side of spiritual jazz to further explore the album’s themes of redemption and religious myth and magick. Elsewhere, the interplay between guitar and clarinet on Viscera Eyes created complex, unsettling counter-melodies, while the coiling, ornate Meccamputechture – Cedric’s wild fusion of sacred texts, occultism and dystopian science fiction – proved a great showcase for Ikey Owens’ swarming, infernal organ runs, in concert with Frusciante’s arcane guitar-play. But it was Day Of The Baphomets that would prove Amputechture’s most ambitious and most defining epic. Cedric’s lyrics tore into the hypocrisy of religious cant and myths of sin and punishment. “I wanted to make a song that was like the movie The Believers, where this cabal stole kids and did some occult shit with them,” he explains. “But I wanted it to be like, ‘What if the people you hire to do jobs you don’t wanna do rise up one day and then pull some shit like that?’ Like it was the guerrilla warfare, them taking over – wouldn’t that be some fucked up shit? And the music just lent itself to that – the big intro, the bass solo, and all of the ruckus that occurs.” That ruckus was some of the most thrilling Mars Volta music yet, as Omar directed his musicians to rumble through fiery modes of wild tribal groove, ransack-the-palaces riot- rock and supreme progressive experimentalism. Amputechture, then, is the sound of The Mars Volta in imperial mode: fearless, insatiable, unstoppable.

The sophomore effort from Gray/Smith refines their petroleum-based, hard-lullaby sound with a decidedly dusty precision. To call this pair's brand of country-rock détournement "cosmic" would be too breezy: L. Gray and Rob Smith prefer to stare into sunken depths, channeling their recondite affections for lay-by mauve zones and red-dirt guitar wanderings. Formed in the outer-edges of Kings and Richmond counties circa 2020, Gray/Smith is something of an East-Coast involution. L. Gray (guitar and vocals) and Rob Smith (drums, guitar and vocals) are both trusty veterans of "band's bands" like Pigeons (Soft Abuse), No-Neck Blues Band (Revenant, Locust), Rhyton (Thrill Jockey), and The Suntanama (Drag City), freewheeling groups known for mining from polyglot sources: rough-hewn folk and the spiritual avant-garde, bargain-bin hard rock and and collector's-choice psychedelia alike. On their first, self-released LP Gray/Smith, serendipitously recorded at Gary's Electric at the top of 2021, the pair trained their assured chops onto the great American song-form, honing a murky but tight approach that variously cribs "urban cowboy" and finger-picked primitivism. A string of cryptic appearances soon followed, including a short-lived residency at a now-shuttered vodka dive; a micro-tour with Coloradan songstress Josephine Foster; and a series of backyard and barroom gigs sharing stages with compatriots like Stella Kola, Blues Ambush, Samara Lubelski, and Wednesday Knudsen. Heels in the Aisle is the slipshod, burnt-out, mid-'70s unter-prog comedown to their debut's backwoods, bushy-tailed, early-'70s, country-rock meanderings_expect more unrestrained riffs, artful studio wizardry, and worn-down introspection. Joining the ranks of bloodshot-eyed, blues-rock medleys à la Canned Heat's "Parthenogenesis" and Grand Funk's "Into The Sun," "The SDSPS" is the nearly side-length opening cut, an expanded song-cycle condensing and riffing on the themes of their debut. "Help Me" ventriloquizes Pomona College outlaw Kris Kristofferson's slow-roaring ballad of libidinal woe. On the flip side, "Verrazano Tile" and the title track pay heed to lower bays of Staten Island, while their arrangement of the traditional Zimbabwean tune "Guabi Guabi" is a bright Dead/Feat-like jaunt with blissed-out wah-wah pay-off. "Gaslight Boulevard" is lean, mean, and eight-beers-in space rock, and the closing track "Kekule's Ring" is a slack-jawed, wistful crash back down to earth. All this, packaged in a luxe, expertly-printed sleeve photographed by downtown artist Lary 7 and designed by Eric Wrenn (Sophie's Oil of Every Pearl's Un-Insides).

RAWAX proudly welcomes DJ Rush to the Family! We are thrilled to annouce 3 releases by the Chicago Legend.
Starting with the former Dance Mania from 1991 called "Childs Play".
Highly recommended!

"Vanatühi" by Kiwanoid is a technopagan concept album. Track titles refer to the word "nothing" in various languages.
The sonic landscape is crafted using deprecated tools: a first-generation 4-bit laptop, the DOS operating system, and a tracker program. Inspired by glitch aesthetics, the sound palette includes clicks, error noises, and low-bitrate techno sounds. Initially, the structures of the pieces may appear complex and chaotic. This electronic thicket might seem abstract, cold, and inaccessible, yet upon closer examination, it reveals a plethora of diverse species, coming across as somewhat nostalgic and warm, evoking surreal associations. From beneath towering sequoias peek pixelated ferns, LED eyes are blinking from below the undergrowth, and against the backdrop of a crackling campfire and cave paintings, a lively stomping of microchips unfolds.
Sudden contrasts, sharp cutting edges, a tachycardic bass drum engine, and irregular polyrhythms make themselves physically felt. Elsewhere, haunting lo-fi textures, hidden ambient drones, mysterious hums, and obscurely garbled samples offer introspective breathers. The dynamic range of the music is favourably extensive, and the raw imperfections of the sound are unmasked by reverb effects or other generic tools. Interwoven throughout are outsider rhythm loops, which could find a home at an alien rave party or a hobgoblin honky-tonk. Various human voice samples build a bridge to the listener, allowing them to embody a cyborg-like experience.

While each twist and turn remains unpredictable, these diverse approaches align in complementary patterns and stochastic regularities, making the whole surprisingly coherent, despite its chaos. The album doesn't bore the audience with intentionally irritating compositions or pseudocomplexity - it demands attention, but doesn't try to outrun its listeners.

"In the core of the album’s creation, lies my fascination with unveiling the piano overtones by harnessing the properties of complex systems, which emerge when competing oscillations of strings interact with room acoustics, microphone placements, the piano's pedals, and its soundboard. Through long forms, incremental gestures, and nuanced timbral artifacts, the album aims to distort the perception of time and invite an introspective experience of multiple and expanded temporalities." - Zoe Efstathiou.

Zoe Efstathiou, pianist and electro-acoustic composer, originally from Greece, has lived in Sweden since 2015. Her interest shifts between the intricate relationships of the overtones of acoustic instruments, electro-acoustic textures, and the sonic potential of light installations. Her music interpolates the momentary with the ever-evolving, exploring ideas related to time, expectation and memory.

Jonas Landwehr & Felix Fleer, the minds behind R-Imprint, are back with their youngest brainchild ‘Serial Sound’. They are starting the new label off with an expertly crafted five track EP ranging from emotive 4 to the floor anthems, over ideosyncratically spaced out IDM experimentation, to cutting edge UK-infused club weapons. ‘Secrets’ is opening the A-Side with a raw vocal performance by LAINE, fused with an infectious groove, building up to a euphoric climax of layered poly-synths, sample flipping and abstract textures. ‘Blinded’ is carrying this vibe over into a more toolish format while maintaining an intricate narrative arch. ’Water Seven’ rounds off the A-Side with a more dreamy excursion into ambient territory. ‘Windows’ opens the B-Side with a catchy theme of pulsing modulated chords supported by subtle, micro- percussive textures. Aeon is closing off the record with an aggressive, synthetic rhythm, featuring syncopated vocal slices, contrasted with enthralling pad sounds. With this release the duo has opened up their sound into a more mature & eclectic direction, while staying true to their signature brand of contemplative harmonies and detailed textural layering.

Born in 1977, in Malang, East Java, Wukir Suryadi began playing music for theatre at the age of 12 with the Idiot The-ater Studio, and later with the Rendra Theater Workshop. In his solo work, and as a member of Senyawa, Error Scream, Bendera Hitam Setengah, Potro Joyo and other groups, Wukir breaks the boundaries of traditional music, death metal and avant-garde performance. On this new release, “Cycle and Prayer,” recorded in 2023, he expands the edges of his unique artistic world further, by digging in to meditative improvisation, art, and community building in his home workshop in the mountains of central Java. These recordings vibrate inwards, toward the microcosmic ecologies of forests and rivers; they distort outwards, resonating with global waves of apocalyptic change that are forcing all living beings to the edges of existence on earth. The result is a meditative poem that moves, as its titles an-nounce, from phenomena to phenomena, praying that humans find a way out from the depths of the depths to the light that illuminates the soul.
An essential mode of creative work for Wukir is the creation of unique instruments, using these sound sources as “bullets of expression.” In addition to the spear-like tube zither Bambu Wukir, he has created the Solet, Enthong, Garu, Luku, Arrows, and Industrial Mutant instruments, which in addition to being used in live performance, have been exhibited in the Instrument Builders Project and the 2017 Jakarta Biennale. In the past few years, Wukir has begun to collaborate with local guitar makers, carpenters, and suppliers of native endemic wood in the mountain region of Salatiga. Using earthen bricks along with local woods (suren, coconut, mindi, and waru lengis) as building materials, he constructed a new studio and workshop space in Tingkir, where this album was made. The trees, water and air of the local environment have exerted a powerful influence in Wukir’s documentations of instrumental sound. On this recording, he uses the simple Cetta guitar, an instrument designed in Bali and made for Indonesian children and local communities of folk and popular musicians, in order to explore the different sonic characteristics of a more “normal” instrument built from local wood.
The themes of the album -- cycle and prayer -- arise from a foreboding series of meta-events that shook Indonesia and the world over the past years, following one after the other: the COVID-19 pandemic, the Ukrainian-Russian war, the Kanjuruhan Stadium tragedy in which football supporters were gassed and killed by police, revelations of govern-ment failures and corruption, the rise of personal vehicles, the increasing disturbance of natural patterns of the rainy season and other ecological cycles. “In these waves of technology and narratives of truth made for certain interests, playing a sound at a certain frequency and repeating can try to bring images and feelings to a certain point of con-sciousness,” Wukir told me. “Sound is a prayer that creates a change, whether gradual or rapid, in the behaviour of living things, to face the demands of the time, as humans struggle to live according to what they believe.” The draw-ings and sketches used for the cover spontaneously emerged alongside the recordings, as an instinctive depiction of “time and sound, nature that is outside of oneself, and nature that is within.”

2024 repress :)

The long-awaited repress of "Baby EP" - Ricardo Villalobos's first solo single on raum...musik under the Villalobos moniker - is finally here. Featuring two tonally and energetically distinct cuts of dancefloor minimalism that are undoubtedly Ricardo. "Baby EP" sounds as cutting-edge as when it was initially released 12 years ago.

From the slightly euphoric and light-hearted atmosphere of 'hansup' (A) to the emotionally charged groove of 'Baby' (B), "Baby EP" travels through a world of intricately layered micro/macro percussions, eloquently programmed synths, and Ricardo's own vocals spread across the frequency spectrum - an added human touch to his usual machine funk. And while rhythm seems to be at centre stage here, in usual Villalobos fashion, both tracks resolve into pure jazzy melancholy. After dragging the listener into a world of (very) human feelings so uncommon in electronic dance music, "Baby EP" makes it very clear you are listening to Villalobos.

For a few years Leo Robinson was the sort of hidden secret you sometimes come across in local music scenes. First in Manchester and now in Glasgow, he’d pop up regularly on DIY bills or as local support to a touring act, quietly blowing them off stage with his rich baritone vocal and homespun lo-fi tales of folklore and animism. With The Temple – his debut on PRAH Recordings – he looks set to cross over from being a cult concern.

“There's a spectrum within the album between fully mythologising or symbolising my lived experience, and just stating it in very matter of fact terms - that push and pull between the need to abstract and the need to break through the abstraction and have an honest moment with oneself” he explains. “This is one of the themes of the album as well as part of the process. The aim was to take all these anecdotal or symbolic elements and merge them into one narrative and one world, in a way that you can find your way through the record as if it were a landscape or language with its own logic.”

The record takes on a pastoral, slightly baroque nature that Robinson partly attributes to a friend screening a lot of ‘70s BBC material in his book shop that they used to hang out at. There are also elements of jazz, flickering to life in “The Spring”’s piano-led finale and coda.

Thematically, Robinson likens it to a Jungian ‘Hero's Journey’, his voice possessing a character who goes through several defined stages of consciousness. From conception and the beginning of an earthly life, the first half of the album recognises the development of the protagonist’s narrative and identity, before “The Pink Light”’s freeform departure from the hitherto more song-based suite devastatingly shatters this. The second half of the album then sees the protagonist witness “the uncontainable” water; learning that true divinity lies not in the individual self or lofty notions of gods and temples, but in the unremarkable nettles, insects and dogs on the roadside riverbank - referenced on tracks “The Cormorant” and “The Spring”.

Although now residing north of the border, The Temple was written while Robinson was finding his feet in Manchester, having moved there to go to art school as a teenager (as a visual artist, he has exhibited at the Tiwani Contemporary in London and Cardiff’s Chapter Arts Centre). As a result, many of the tracks bear out the shadows of his experiences in the northern city – at their most visible and explicit on the beautifully fragile storytelling of “The Pavement”. Written the day after the Manchester Arena Bombings, it recalls Robinson waking up to go to work on a hot summer’s day to discover that his street had been blocked off for terrorism investigations; it then progresses through the rest of his day, amidst the grimly surreal aftermath of the previous night.

Having written the chords, melodies and lyrics to the album, Robinson fleshed out the tunes by scoring out parts for the additional instrumentation, but it was only when a friend sent a demo to PRAH that he was able to fund its full recording. Guitars, vocals, piano and French Horn (the latter recorded by Lauren Reeve-Rawlings) were put down at Green Door Studios in Glasgow. Microphones were placed around the room and the sound of the musicians stepping on creaky floorboards and opening creaky doors were left audible to further the record’s live feel. The harpsichord heard on “The Serpent”, meanwhile, came from University of Glasgow lecturer David McGuinness. Strings were then recorded at PRAH Studios by Francesca Ter-Berg and Raven Bush, the Social Singing Choir adding their choral vocals to “Temple II”.

The result is an album that feels both luscious and yet intimately raw; as grand as Richard Dawson at his most panoramic but containing the rough edges and skeletal looseness of a Calvin Johnson work. At times Robinson lyrically moves towards the surreal, but ultimately this is a record grounded in reality; a true showcase of Robinson’s skill as a lyricist and songwriter.

A discreet but essential figure in the field of musical creation, Horacio Vaggione has been crafting an ambitious, precise and highly significant body of work for over the last fifty years, coupled with a demanding research activity. This disc offers four purely electroacoustic pieces which illustrate, each in their own way, this singular and fascinating grammar developed by Horacio Vaggione, a complex but fertile grammar which establishes a very special relationship between structure and texture, between matter and formula, to create a fascinating musical space, made up of polyphonies and metamorphoses. (François Bonnet, Paris, 2022)

--

«Schall» (1994), 07’30

Schall exclusively uses piano sounds sampled and processed with various digital techniques. The sound palette focuses on several shapes of various sizes which reiterate, altered to varying degrees, throughout the process. The granular paradigm is clearly assumed here, as is also that of the interactions between various temporal scales. Basically, there is a concern for the articulation of micro-events. The piece essentially plays with low-intensity frames, composed of various planes and punctuated by stronger objects, in a kind of polyphonic dialogue between proximity and distance. (H. V.)

«Rechant» (1995), 15’51

Initially, a few brief sounds of instrumental origin — percussions, flutes, strings. Processed by means of various digital techniques, projected on various temporal scales, analyzed and re-synthesized, worked in their parts (in their saliences), articulated in their edges as well as in their interactions, these sounds show, as Bachelard would say, «pluralism under identity». I thus tried to compose morphologies by targeting properties contained in the material and by projecting them on temporal perspectives of all sizes. The title, an allusion to the old polyphonic technique, refers to the iterative content of these morphologies as well as to the modalities of their interweaving. (H. V.)

«24 Variations» (2001), 09’50

The word «variations» applies here to the morphological transformations of the material, as well as to the various contexts in which these transformations appear. The result can be heard as a continuous interaction between sound particles of different sizes, composed of several layers, reflecting a preoccupation with detailed articulation spanning different time scales. (H. V.)

«Gymel» (2002), 09’25

In Gymel I tried to compose a space-trajectory using layered sounds, produced by morphological operations (splits, clusterings) that spread out from location to location in variously dense objects. The space was treated through phase-decorrelation, a technique which I use extensively, both to create spaces and to locate sounds and movements within a polyphonic (stratified) context. (H. V.)

Saint Abdullah & Eomac is a long distance, ongoing collaboration between New York based Iranian-Canadian brothers Mohammad and Mehdi Mehrabani (Saint Abdullah) and Ian McDonnell a.k.a. Eomac, based in Wicklow in Ireland. They tested the waters with their first album on Nicolas Jaar's Other People label last year, but 'Chasing Stateless' is their fullest expression so far.

The creative mindset behind the album starts with bravery and eschews escapism. Says Saint Abdullah's Mohammad, "As a collective, we exist to test the revolutionary possibilities within sound and sonic storytelling. As a means to finding a vision of the future and for building cultural dialogue today. Our belief is that the expressiveness of this vision should be pushed to its utmost limits to reveal anew. I always felt that the intensity of the middle eastern soul needs to be revealed more potently. Ian and the Irish have it too. I suspect most historically oppressed cultures do."

The music on 'Chasing Stateless' avoids easy middle eastern tropes — "I think what we're proposing here is that you don't need to water down our culture, you don't need to take only the bits that fit your idea of who we are, what we are. You ought to take it in its entirety."

Musically, the album approaches established genres and re-orientates them towards middle eastern rhythm and melody with an iron soul. Songs are rough and intense. Rusty polyrhythms, daf drums wrapped in a thick coating of distortion or punchy kicks with micro-edited samples of middle eastern life spiralling across them. Mournful melodies are squeezed out until the music teeters on the edge of rhythmic collapse. 'Chasing Stateless' is rough and energetic but also tender and reflective too. It's a human sound, utilising technology but not about technology. Sample heavy with expressions of anger, sadness and hope present and deeply felt.

The album's title speaks to a loss of collective societal imagination; of 'chasing status'. As Moh says "This generation, man, we're really good at putting up walls, despite all our openness. But where does this all lead to? What exactly are we chasing? This is where I especially love the name 'Chasing Stateless,' because if all this continues, we indeed will end up stateless, society-less, community-less, neighbor-less. Just a bunch of same-sies, living in an imaginary bubble, where we all look / think / say / CHASE the same things."

Berlin based producer and DJ, Fletcher, joins the roster of Anthony Georges Patrices’ Ausblick imprint this December with his ‘Blurred Lines’ EP. The past decade has seen Fletcher steadily unveiling his own distinctive twist on dub techno and micro house with a debut album on Steve O’Sullivan’s Mosaic and further material on the likes of Roger Gerressen’s Irenic, Ohm Series, his own Tact Recordings/Tactics. Here though he drops his new two tracker on the growing Ausblick label, following its recent release from label boss AGP with a remix from Playhouse legend LoSoul. Title-cut ‘Blurred Lines’ leads and see Fletcher lay down a sturdy, shuffled percussive groove at the foundation of the composition while ghostly chimes, swelling subs and modulating synths ebb and flow within its eight-minute duration. ‘What’s It All About’ follows and edges into more mind mending, minimalistic realms with oscillating bass tones, organic percussion and murky atmospherics all intertwined to create a low-slung dance floor focused tool.

Many years have passed since the last album by Munich-based indie rock band dASbAND. The country has changed, the city changes and so does the band. Hard but productive years lie behind her. Lockdown paranoia, a serious illness of one of its members, dark nights. But there was always hope, light and the healing power of a creaky guitar lick, a subsonic bass line, a driving beat. Emma Luna joined last year, a new member as adept on the microphone as she is on the keys. Bassist Gurin "Gringo" Goh had joined in 2019.

On their third album, dASbAND counter the feints of existence with casual - sometimes ironic, sometimes charming - rock & roll stoicism. They skewer the hollow Zuspäthipstertum as well as the lazy facade of the new Biedermeier ("Kein Ding"), which makes itself comfortable in core- rehabilitated old buildings. They sing of the confusion of medicinal flights of fancy ("High Heals") and of „Melancholie Modul" loosely based on Martin Kippenberger. They poach in Northern Soul realms ("Darkness") and cover The Velvet Underground. "Geh weg" is an acutely danceable melange of dub- reggae and post-punk articulation. dASbAND are buccaneers in the Mehr der Möglichkeiten. They write German songs with edge, but never forget to gallantly hold the door open for you. They worship the Sleaford Mods as much as the Byrds or the wahwah pedal. They break a lance for the rogue in us, for the holy power of a bulky punk riff, for the shalala of a chorus you can't get rid of. They've learned their lessons in the "Spiel of Life." And they have fun with it.

„Spiel of Life" was recorded at Tobias Siegert's "Minga Studio" in Untergiesing and at Michael Heilrath's "Bereich 03".

For years Feeling Figures have tinkered away at the edge of the Montreal scene, never fitting neatly into the ebb and flow of the city's cultural trends or its more traditionalist camps. A geographer, a music therapist, a writer, and an underground arts biz maverick, the four Figures have long been friends and collaborators in various musical formations and continue to propel multiple projects. At the core of Feeling Figures is the Zakary Slax and Kay Moon songwriting partnership, which itself stretches back a decade, the pair first crossing paths in a vibrant period of musical upheaval in Sackville, NB - a college town on Canada's East Coast. In the big city, a series of self-releases, shifting monikers, and revolving live lineups eventually coalesced with Thomas Molander & Joe Chamandy as the ultimate rhythmic vehicle and spiritual consorts for Slax & Moon's unconstrained syntheses of multiple eras of indie rock, punk, psychedelia, folk, and outsider pop. Their debut 7" of 2021 was an early entry in Montreal upstart label Celluloid Lunch's catalog. We're nearly 3 years past the debut 7" from Montreal quartet Feeling Figures and in some ways it feels like 300, Such are the seismic changes that have occurred during that spell. But enough about Feeling Figures' musical depth and laser-like lyrical focus, I understand some things have happened in the real world, too. 'Migration Music' is not this generation's first ramshackle-as-fuckk art punk album and I'm not sure it's even the 30 thousandth. But I do know Feeling Figures have arrived fully formed, with a real voice of their own (several in fact, that must be a really good microphone). This album is simply too much fun to have been the product of years of serious study, though I'm told students occasionally have fun, too. I wouldn't know, i'm a university drop out. I did once see an episode of the television adaptation of "The Paper Chase" where one of the new Harvard Law hopefuls had a Kiss poster over his bed and that seemed highly implausible. The utter lack of affectation on 'Migration Music' may or may not be considered a selling point (affectation seems pretty huge — almost always) but Feeling Figures' rock'n'roll atom smashery is nothing short of astonishing. Maybe there will be a better record in 2023 perhaps two or three, even. But for now, this is the band to beat. 10 tracks 33RPM

Platform 23 reunites once more with Vox Man Records to dig deep into their archives and shine a new light on. In the past they have done some mega well loved Alternative Funk compilations which got the label off to a fine start and now they dig into an array of cult cassette releases to bring us treasure from Audiologie N-4 - The Independant Psychedelic Trip and Audiologie 5 et 6 - Ethniques Urbaines. This is music from the avant-garde and post punk scenes that draws on wave, spoken word, dark dub and industrial for its eerie yet alluring charms, all with a real edge. Ethnic, idiosyncratic and psyched out, this is another great overview.

The central theme of Steady is perseverance. Each track is based on a personal story or a fleeting encounter with people these past few years, from close friends to total strangers, either at home or on night shift commutes. People navigating their own hardships, almost giving up but always struggling through. More broadly, it’s about multiplicity, and contradiction. These central figures displaying hope and determination within a city of development and neglect, uniformity and chaos - an unfiltered representation of a city with all its jagged edges, darkness, and shards of light. It's broken and disheveled, but never not beautiful, just like the people in it. Musically, Steady continues where Bleach (debut album) left off - a sonic language of glitch, decaying tape and analogue distortion through which hints of RnB and soulful ballads bleed through. With a greater emphasis on beats, albeit lopsided on pitch-shifted tape loops, Steady feels more self-assured, more confident, more recognisable. At the same time, it's never stable or predictable - choruses break down early, harmonies bend into beating microtones, tracks emerge before others have finished. The symphonic scope of Bleach is still retained in Steady though. This is music of motivic development, of micro and macro form, of meticulous refining. The work of two classically trained composers, the album's chaos is heavily considered and carefully shaped. Hours of improvisation sessions have since been painstakingly refined into ten distilled tracks, owing to Steady's three year gestation.