Suche:motion process

Back in 2018, Argentinian producer Fernando Pulichino released ‘Search of Indigo’ on Leng, a shuffling slab of colourful, Balearic-adjacent dub disco featuring his own distinctive lead vocals and backing vocals from Luca Gasparini. Six years on, the track returns renewed and refreshed thanks to a string of new floor-friendly reworks by LTJ Xperience and Pulichino himself. Fernando kicks off the EP with his ‘AM Mix’, an inspired re-invention that re-frames the song as a hard-wired, acid-fired chugger – all restless, razor-sharp TB-303 lines, low-slung bass guitar and sparkling piano riffs. On the digital version of the EP Pulichino has also offered up his ‘PM Mix’, a deliciously Balearic disco dub rich in colourful synth sounds, elastic bass, flanged guitars and sun-bright piano licks. It's LTJ Xperience’s trio of remixes that lie at the heart of the EP though. The Italian producer, real name Luca Trevisi, initially made his name as a downtempo and nu-jazz producer before perfecting a trademark style of chugging, slow-motion hedonism that draws influence from both deep house and nu-disco. His main Remix foregrounds many of these trademark elements, in the process delivering a bongo-rich chugger laden with delayheavy bass guitar sounds, head-nodding drums, heady guitar loops and echoing vocal snippets. On the Dirty Mix, Trevisi reaches for tight, short TB-303 ‘acid’ loops, a more sparse and heavy rhythm track offering a more heads-down, dubbed-out affair that should delight those who love late night and early morning hypnotism with flashes of wide-eyed sonic bliss. Then, to round things off, Trevisi delivers a heady, atmospheric and spaced-out Dub full of jazz guitar licks, bubbling electronics, vocal snippets and effects-laden bass. It’s a winning combination.

RIYL: Portishead, Thom Yorke, BEAK>, SUUNS, TR/ST, Radiohead. Solo project of Robert Toher who was the creator of ERAAS. Covered by Quietus,Pitchfork, NME, Stereogum, Earmilk, The 405, Clash, BBC Radio, Clash and more.... Public Memory is a mixture of damaged and dubbed-out percussion, unfurling synths and sparse sampling - all strung together by producer Robert Toher's spectral tenor. The project's sophomore LP, Demolition follows 2017's Veil of Counsel EP and 2016's Wuthering Drum LP with cinematic fortitude. While Public Memory's prominent krautrock and trip-hop rhythms are represented here, Demolition explores a greater range of tempos and an expanse of alien emotions with layers of electronic drums, live drums, Korg synths and samples from nature. Themes of rebirth and reflection imbue the album's atmosphere, rich in tape delay, spring reverb, and textures that conjure a sci fi and supernatural narrative. Opener "The Line" sets the album in motion with a driving energy and introspective unease, as if estranged from the world it was created in. A meditation on impending collapse, "Red Rainbow" begins with an arpeggiated melody that hints at a sense of dread. Like the darkness of night descends, the track unfolds with haunting atmospherics and howling synths, finishing with an unexpected climax that ominously builds until at last it falls apart, quickly, softly, without incident. The slowtempoed "Aegis" reflects on the banal reality of love lost, with shuffling rhythms, lingering inflections and a growling synth at its core. Toher's adept use of space and tension articulates the world of Demolition as eerie, emotive, and above all, narcotic. Each track is an existential procession. "Turning out the lights on your illusion," Toher sings to close the album, accepting that change is an inescapable condition of being.

An extremely prolific artist, whose work encompasses composition, opera, theatre, radio plays, film or performance, Ergo Phizmiz returns in due time to the Discrepant fold long after his 'Two Quartets' and 'Disco Carousel' - under his given DW Robertson name - albums. A purveyor of the Creative Commons rights, Phizmiz has been deploying much of his work on the ever expanding Free Music Archive directed by WFMU since the early 2000's, creating a sprawling and defiant body of work that defies given and stale notions of sound hierarchies, history and copyright through a process that comprises collage, sampling, reappropriation, songwriting, covers and pretty much any available media with a playful and thoughtful approach.
For this new Discrepant entry, Phizmiz goes back in time to push into the future a number of pieces recorded more than two decades ago creating this perpetual motion outside a linear chronologic progression. Anticipating by almost 20 years the memefication of ASMR videos, 'Selected Ambient & ASMR Works 2001-2003' - itself a pun on the AFX classics - embraces the ambient tag not at its functional face value, but instead as a means to the "evocation of imaginary spaces, and correspondingly the invention of their sonic environments". Collecting recordings from a myriad of instruments - violin, xylophone, banjo, kora, found percussion and so on...-, shortwave radio and field recordings to create loops with different lengths that play with and/or against themselves continuously in a process "(dis)conjunction" not far removed from Feldman's 'Why Patterns?' or hip-hop's sampledelia. A free-floating temporal space that collapses the flashing images of Angelfire pages unto Web 2.0 sense of displacement.

Robin Carolan's latest soundtrack for Robert Eggers' highly anticipated Nosferatu is a haunting, gothic-infused and meticulously crafted work that draws from a vast palette of sounds, instruments, and inspirations. Following their successful collaboration on The Northman, Carolan reunites with Eggers to bring the legendary tale of Nosferatu to life, infusing the film with a score that is as complex and nuanced as the story itself. With Daniel Pioro, one of Britain's most exciting young classical musicians, at the helm as the orchestra leader and first chair for a vast majority of the recording, the soundtrack features a vast orchestration, including 60 string players, a full choir, various horns and woodwinds, a harpist, and two percussionists. Despite the grandeur of the orchestration, one of the most challenging pieces was the music box used at the film's beginning. Carolan and Eggers struggled to perfect its sound, a process marked by their meticulous attention to detail, which Carolan describes as almost telepathic. Set in the 1800s, Nosferatu allowed Carolan to incorporate contemporary instrumentation, though he made a deliberate effort to ensure the score didn't sound overly modern. Letty Stott, who also worked on The Northman, contributed ancient horns and pipes, enhancing the soundtrack's eerie atmosphere. Additionally, percussionist Paul Clarvis custom-built a toaca-like instrument for added authenticity. Carolan's inspirations for the soundtrack were as eclectic as they were profound. He frequently drew upon the works of Bartok and Coil, while films like The Innocents, Angels and Insects, and Eyes Wide Shut provided cinematic inspiration. Additionally, he explored the more obscure side of Hammer Horror soundtracks and found a deep connection to the music of the Ukrainian film The Eve of Ivan Kupalo, which helped shape the score's otherworldly tone. Carolan intentionally moved beyond the typical horror score, focusing on capturing the tale's melancholy and tragic elements while weaving in a sense of warped romanticism. The result is a soundtrack that not only complements the film but also stands on its own as a testament to Carolan's artistry and the enduring power of collaboration.

Robin Carolan's latest soundtrack for Robert Eggers' highly anticipated Nosferatu is a haunting, gothic-infused and meticulously crafted work that draws from a vast palette of sounds, instruments, and inspirations. Following their successful collaboration on The Northman, Carolan reunites with Eggers to bring the legendary tale of Nosferatu to life, infusing the film with a score that is as complex and nuanced as the story itself. With Daniel Pioro, one of Britain's most exciting young classical musicians, at the helm as the orchestra leader and first chair for a vast majority of the recording, the soundtrack features a vast orchestration, including 60 string players, a full choir, various horns and woodwinds, a harpist, and two percussionists. Despite the grandeur of the orchestration, one of the most challenging pieces was the music box used at the film's beginning. Carolan and Eggers struggled to perfect its sound, a process marked by their meticulous attention to detail, which Carolan describes as almost telepathic. Set in the 1800s, Nosferatu allowed Carolan to incorporate contemporary instrumentation, though he made a deliberate effort to ensure the score didn't sound overly modern. Letty Stott, who also worked on The Northman, contributed ancient horns and pipes, enhancing the soundtrack's eerie atmosphere. Additionally, percussionist Paul Clarvis custom-built a toaca-like instrument for added authenticity. Carolan's inspirations for the soundtrack were as eclectic as they were profound. He frequently drew upon the works of Bartok and Coil, while films like The Innocents, Angels and Insects, and Eyes Wide Shut provided cinematic inspiration. Additionally, he explored the more obscure side of Hammer Horror soundtracks and found a deep connection to the music of the Ukrainian film The Eve of Ivan Kupalo, which helped shape the score's otherworldly tone. Carolan intentionally moved beyond the typical horror score, focusing on capturing the tale's melancholy and tragic elements while weaving in a sense of warped romanticism. The result is a soundtrack that not only complements the film but also stands on its own as a testament to Carolan's artistry and the enduring power of collaboration.

Transparent Blue Vinyl. After years of preparation, Marcus Drake emerges from the basement networks of the resistance underground to claim the first save point along his quest ahead. Welcome to Save Point 1, a universe where popular forms of the past collide at warp speed with Marcus's mutant inspirations to produce sounds and genres hitherto unknown. Save Point 1 is a visionary and singular Debut work of Avant Rock & Pop Alchemy, blown apart and reassembled under the laws of Quantum Musical Mechanics. Written, Produced & Performed by Marcus Drake, the album eludes classification, but sounds like a sci-fi fusion of musical DNA from Nine Inch Nails, Prefab Sprout, Nobuo Uematsu (the Final Fantasy video game composer), Animal Collective, Prince, Mr. Bungle, Liars, The Mars Volta, and Lil Ugly Mane. The album marks the first release under Drake's own name, and the latest since his 2017 release as Anthony Fremont's Garden Solutions_his idiosyncratic side-project with Water From Your Eyes' Nate Amos, Options' Seth Engel, and NNAMDI. He has also since scored for film and video, including the Adult Swim short Thoron the Conqueror. Save Point 1 isn't just a new beginning, but a reintroduction to Marcus Drake the artist and composer. Drake experimented with new techniques and approaches for many years while recording Save Point 1, a process that transformed his sound, voice, and artistic identity. The resulting oeuvre is giddy and dreamy, an Olympic-height diving board from which to descend through indie rock and videogame soundtracks, thrilling math-rock riffs that turn experimental, and synths that glow in rainbow hues. Just turn to the glitchpop of "Heaven's in the Rot" or the slow-motion acoustic glitter that is "Dragon It Out" to hear it in motion. And note the two-part "Haunted" suite that funnels his unpredictable experimentation into darker, weirder directions.

Belgian saxophonist, composer, and producer Mattias De Craene (Nordmann, MDCIII) announces a new solo album, ‘A House Where I Dream,’ on VIERNULVIER Records. On his second album, he delivers a highly personal and healing journey, presented as an alternative soundtrack to the 1973 cult film ‘The Holy Mountain.’

The record will be released on October 11 on vinyl LP and through all digital platforms.

"The Holy Mountain" is a surreal Mexican film from 1973 directed, written, and produced by Alejandro Jodorowsky, who also stars in the film. The film holds a prominent place in avant-garde cinema and explores themes such as spirituality, mysticism, and the quest for enlightenment. It is in this vein that ‘A House Where I Dream’ is crafted.

“My mind and soul - and thus my music - come home to this motion picture” - Mattias De Craene

The album will be presented live with the film on October 16 at Videodroom during Film Fest Gent.

ABOUT THE ALBUM
With hypnotic tape loops, grainy textures, and mesmerizing saxophone, Mattias De Craene creates possible worlds that herald a spiritual transformation. From the Scottish Highlands and desolate mountains to the deepest recesses of the soul, this music has the power to create cinematic landscapes that transcend time and space. The sound of these 8 tracks is closely related to the minimalist compositions of Terry Riley, but the work of contemporary artists like KMRU or William Basinski is also drawn from the same material.

Above all, this album is a deeply personal journey and unintentionally serves as a metaphor for De Craene's ascent of his own mountain. For the Videodroom festival by Arts Center VIERNULVIER, the saxophonist began working on a new soundtrack for the film ‘The Holy Mountain’ in 2023, but his body and mind abruptly called him to a halt, forcing him to take a professional break. However, this project never left him, leading to an honest and raw quest to find himself as both a person and an artist, with Jodorowsky as a companion de route and music as an anchor. It initiated a long process of dismantling, searching, healing and back again. The album not only provides a sanctuary for dreaming to all who listen, but for its creator it also serves as both an outcry of despair and a source of comfort during challenging times.

All the tracks on 'A House Where I Dream' share an unfiltered grain of life, as one can almost feel the damp breath of the saxophone blowing.

The album opens with the three-part strong 'Transcention,' where the hypnotic interplay between soprano sax and lo-fi tape loops leads to higher realms of the mind and soul.
Alternating between deep frequencies and farout folk modalities, this mantra-like triptych acquires an alchemical character and ultimately transcends time and space.

In the ethereal 'Away,' one can peer into an abyss of resonance while a saturated tenor sax lends guidance in the spirit of Terry Riley's productions. 'You and Me' also bathes in a similar atmosphere, albeit in the vein of healing 90s ambient as granular sax tones converge with celestial chants. 'Gazing Upwards Towards The Sky,' offers different shades of blue as a slumbering tenor sax is juxtaposed to swift sax patterns. On 'A Stranger That Moved Me,' beauty lands in a soft and subtle manner, while the closing track 'Shepherd's Glow' drifts like a mountain wind flaring up at the darkest hour of the night.

The artwork is created by Gent-based artist Sam Timmerman, who portrays the world of 'A House Where I Dream' with playful repetition and mystique.

As we approach the threshold leading us back to the Black Lodge on our transformative 8th journey, we are escorted through and beyond the mystical portal by the vigorous and fierce forces of Sneaker. Portrait in House is a collection of 3 resonant works, which are unified into a singular vision within its uncanny language that is rooted deeply in the foundations of Jak, New Beat, EBM, and Wave. Existing inside the liminal spaces of where light meets dark, we are presented with a documentation of dissonance and harmony. We begin our voyage with Jihad, a sluggish and slogging piece that unforgivingly drags us through the grime and the dirt in a ritualistic fashion that would have the ghost of Georges Bataille dancing in circles. Voices call out and howl into the dark as the drum patterns of the 707 rhythmically grasps onto its anarchic components. In the dark, we can see the light beyond the known universe. In the words of Sneaker "The name is not our message, but a document of an evident, traditional concept in (y)our world." As we find ourselves sprawled out on the ground following the 1st sonic stanza, a menacing voice bellows and warns that this is a Sax Track. Referencing Chicago icon Lil Louis, this work juxtaposes classical elements of house music together with the bare knuckled spirit of Jak. A magical spell led by disharmonious Portasound FM keys in conversation with a teetering sub bass, where at its core, this plus this, equals something that is uniquely familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. A number fit for any uncanny ritual that will fall under the night sky. Bringing our cosmic procession to a close we pick up the pace with a commanding number titled, Dance On, a no holds barred work that will possess your soul in the name of Jak. Flangers wail unforgivingly alongside a pulsating 101, as samples of the human voice are chopped up and arranged into a conversation that hypnotically calls for our bodies to be transformed into soft machines, while powered by ceremonious motions that are generated from the liberating process of ritual movement. We command you to dance! Words by Justin Aulis Long

Speckled Dragon Egg Color Vinyl. Being Dead knows how to make an entrance - within the first several seconds of EELS, the duo's new record, the bright, hard-strummed guitar line on "Godzilla Rises" conjures cinematic immediacy, a creature emerging from the depths of the ocean in campy, freaky stop motion, fittingly so. Being Dead's records are mosaics, technicolor incantations, each song its own self-contained little universe. And while the dreamlike EELS probes further into the depths of the duo Being Dead's psyche, it is, most importantly, in the year of our lord 2024, a 16-track record that is genuinely unpredictable from one track to the next: a joyous and unexpected trip helmed by two true-blue freak bitch besties holed up in a lil' house in the heart of Austin, Texas. They decamped to Los Angeles for two weeks to record with GRAMMY-winning producer John Congleton, writing songs for the record until days before they left. The radical shift in process was welcome - a good balance and a challenge, Congleton helping them find new ways to work and helping peel back the layers on the core of their songwriting. Being Dead has grown from a duo to a trio live, including bassist Ricky Motto (who is immortalized finally on record here, particularly in the giggles on "Rock n' Roll Hurts") The resulting EELS is a darker record, tapped more into the devilishness within, but it's also a more raucous, rougher ride sonically. There's heartbreak, excitement, enchantment, dancing - we move through it all at a high-octane pace. Falcon Bitch and Smoofy never want to do the same thing twice on any song, and they don't. From the pummeling garage rock distortion of "Firefighters" to "Dragons II," which appears in its demo form taped on a hand recorder, it's unexpected but intuitive, and, most importantly, singularly Being Dead. Like its animal namesake suggests, the songs on EELS are malleable, the record like slithering through murky waters or strange half dreams, mysterious and beautiful in how it moves, reflective in a wavering sheen. Dipping into each song feels like uncovering a new cavern, plunging into depths unknown but fully open to what will be revealed. On the album artwork, an illustration by the artist Julia Soboleva, there are some weird disparate spectral creatures, a stark glimmer against a cloudy darkness. It's a fitting encapsulation of Being Dead, exuding a welcoming, playful energy even if something foreboding lurks just beyond the pale - more out of frame that's left to uncover, no path unexplored, strange and beautiful in the light.

Speckled Dragon Egg Color Vinyl. Being Dead knows how to make an entrance - within the first several seconds of EELS, the duo's new record, the bright, hard-strummed guitar line on "Godzilla Rises" conjures cinematic immediacy, a creature emerging from the depths of the ocean in campy, freaky stop motion, fittingly so. Being Dead's records are mosaics, technicolor incantations, each song its own self-contained little universe. And while the dreamlike EELS probes further into the depths of the duo Being Dead's psyche, it is, most importantly, in the year of our lord 2024, a 16-track record that is genuinely unpredictable from one track to the next: a joyous and unexpected trip helmed by two true-blue freak bitch besties holed up in a lil' house in the heart of Austin, Texas. They decamped to Los Angeles for two weeks to record with GRAMMY-winning producer John Congleton, writing songs for the record until days before they left. The radical shift in process was welcome - a good balance and a challenge, Congleton helping them find new ways to work and helping peel back the layers on the core of their songwriting. Being Dead has grown from a duo to a trio live, including bassist Ricky Motto (who is immortalized finally on record here, particularly in the giggles on "Rock n' Roll Hurts") The resulting EELS is a darker record, tapped more into the devilishness within, but it's also a more raucous, rougher ride sonically. There's heartbreak, excitement, enchantment, dancing - we move through it all at a high-octane pace. Falcon Bitch and Smoofy never want to do the same thing twice on any song, and they don't. From the pummeling garage rock distortion of "Firefighters" to "Dragons II," which appears in its demo form taped on a hand recorder, it's unexpected but intuitive, and, most importantly, singularly Being Dead. Like its animal namesake suggests, the songs on EELS are malleable, the record like slithering through murky waters or strange half dreams, mysterious and beautiful in how it moves, reflective in a wavering sheen. Dipping into each song feels like uncovering a new cavern, plunging into depths unknown but fully open to what will be revealed. On the album artwork, an illustration by the artist Julia Soboleva, there are some weird disparate spectral creatures, a stark glimmer against a cloudy darkness. It's a fitting encapsulation of Being Dead, exuding a welcoming, playful energy even if something foreboding lurks just beyond the pale - more out of frame that's left to uncover, no path unexplored, strange and beautiful in the light.

Carving an unlikely and elaborate niche in the stoney academic landscape
which she once shared with the likes of Phill Niblock, John Cage and Sorel
Hayes, the excitable proto-punk poèmes sonores of the linguistic loose
cannon known as Beth Anderson first rolled through New York in the mid-
1970s (from Kentucky via San Francisco) like a jumbled tumbleweed of lost
Letterism, face paint and threadbare drummy funk to astonish gallery floors,
lecture theatres and loft apartment stages.
One thousand leagues under the radar of the commercial music industry,
with a sense of humour that elevated way above her highbrow peer group,
the music of Beth Anderson has successfully evaded the pressing plant for
most of her creative career, and not unlike fellow New York gallery actionist
Suzanne Ciani, it has taken decades to successfully collect and contextualise
these early recordings - expanding her elusive discography beyond the rare
and mysterious solo single entry in the process.
When uttered amongst the type of vinyl vampires that haplessly gravitate
between both art school vintage vanity pressings and family funded plunder
funk, there’s an outside chance that the name Beth Anderson might muster
some vague recognition on account of her one and only solo wax sojourn
into the expansive DIY market. In 1980 the 45rpm single, ‘I Can’t Stand It’,
combusted into the consciousness of adventurous participants with its deep
rhythmic backbeat (courtesy of future Sonic Youth / Dinosaur Jr producer
Wharton Tiers, member of the new wave band Theoretical Girls), climaxing
with two colourful and commanding linguistic tantrums before disappearing in
a puff of smoke leaving would-be fans dumbstruck without so much as a
label name or distribution contact to explain what they had just heard.
For those who have spent the subsequent years on the edge of that same
seat, it might come as some comfort knowing that somewhere out there,
there is also a contrasting world of gallery patrons and experimental sound
poetry enthusiasts that similarly didn’t know that their regular performance
poet Beth Anderson even made the ambitious pop record. For the uninitiated,
the enigmatic Beth Anderson has straddled both sides of the art / rock fence
placed between two equally niche pastures.
Hopefully this first ever vinyl compendium will succeed in joining the dots,
loops, yelps, squeaks, beats and repeats. Let us follow Beth’s lineage, along
her magnetic tape highways crossing multiple boundaries in a hope to bridge
unlikely anti-genres like ‘yoga punk’, ‘ramble rap’, ‘combustion pop’ and
‘formroom funk’… all of which were officially neatly bracketed under the
curious Text-Sound movement where Beth garnered utmost respect as a key
practitioner.

“If rock ’n’ roll’s a dream, please don’t wake me.” Midwife’s No Depression In Heaven, her fourth studio album, was written primarily in the back of vans while on tour endlessly over the course of the past few years. The record engages with the contemplative spirit of rock ’n’ roll from within a body in motion. No Depression In Heaven explores themes of sentimentality, the interplay between dreams, memory, and fantasy, and a familiar subject seen throughout all of Midwife’s work: grief. Madeline Johnston takes a look at the tender and transcendent underneath a hard exterior of leather and studs, exposing a different side of the heavy music scene, where Johnston’s project has been living and evolving. Recording at home in New Mexico between 2021 and 2023, Johnston aimed to create something that was rough around the edges, returning to a free recording process that was less focused on perfection and more attuned to expressing the spirit that lives inside of the songs. The album features collaborations with Chris Adolf and Michael Stein of American Culture, Ben Schurr and Tim Jordan of Nyxy Nyx, Angel Diaz of Vyva Melinkolya, and Allison Lorenzen. Inspired by ephemeral moments that make up life on tour, the totemization of vehicles, outlaws, and the psyche of America’s underbelly, No Depression In Heaven affirms Johnston’s existential status as a woman of the highway

This is the repeated call and the rallying chorus of the nearly 40-minute centerpiece to composer and percussionist Asher Gamedze’s new album Constitution. The expansive double album, a minoritarian fellowship in breath, is Gamedze’s follow-up to 2023’s Turbulence and Pulse (IARC0057), and his first with The Black Lungs. The album – recorded in one day at Cape Town’s Sound and Motion Studios – is an elaboration of the possibilities of autonomous constitution in and through polyrhythmic, modal, large ensemble music.
On Constitution, the power of the question, the possibility of an improvised answer and the celebration of being together exists not in the solo but in the group, the ensemble. Here The Black Lungs collectively explore and deconstruct the conceptual, tonal, and atonal possibilities of themes which are at once of old and new dreams - curious and instantiative, melancholic and emergent.

“The Black Lungs is inspired by the revolutionary thought and practice of the Black Consciousness Movement. In particular, the relationship between antagonism – constituting a united front of all the oppressed against white supremacy and racial capitalism – and the possibilities for resistance and elaboration - the creative militant capacities of those assembled – enabled and unleashed by that process of constitution.”

Fera’s trajectory sticks out like a sore thumb, you need to invest time, carefully divided between body & mind, to truly take a deep dive into his audacious output. After the acclaimed ‘Stupidamutaforma’ and ‘Corpo Senza Carne’, Fera is back with ‘Psiche Liberata’, an oblique, imperfect and broken record, in other words, exactly the type of magical voyage you want to be on. The mind, finally liberated.

Fera is Andrea De Franco, electronic composer from Southern Italy now residing in Bologna, also known for his work as visual artist/designer and member of the Undicesimacasa collective. His musical cosmos is profound and imaginative, intergalactic atmospheres that condense fragmented IDM, scintillating textures, distorted synthscapes, crunchy technoid rhythms and swirling abstractions that weave gently, sometimes moody and stark, more often celestial and awe-inspiring.

Mixed in Berlin by Steve Scanu ‘Psiche Liberata’ encapsulates Fera’s dense and intricate thought process in contrast with his simple and direct approach to writing and recording that finds its more natural output in his rapturous live sets where a mono signal runs through a few analog pedals transforming instantly into menacing alien grooves and fluid ecstasis.

Like ‘Psiche Liberata’s artwork, hand-drawn by Fera, every detailed miniature leads to a single cell of sound, tracks collide against each other in a psychotic kaleidoscope where every safe space is confronted with subsequent noise, alterations or interruptions. The black terror of ‘Celestial Anacusma’ is followed by the space-jazz banquet of ‘Milk Tears In The Hug Chamber’ doped up cyber Sun Ra extravaganza featuring Laura Agnusdei and Luigi Monteanni (Artetetra) on saxophones and flutes; ‘Silenzio Solare’ sprinkles Mille Plateaux era minimalism all over hallucinations, while ‘Diluvia’ crosses industrial acid with perpetual motion; title track ‘Psiche Liberata’ murmurs mechanically, a downtempo drifter for the wide-eyed 7AM comedown: ‘Simulacrima’ melts Boards Of Canada’s mellow pastoralism with dystopian meta-level dreamland and ‘Riposa’ showcases an overwhelming melancholy executed with elegance in a slo-mo world where the ineffable transcends notions of ambient and becomes a warm embrace.

Created on a Monotribe, MS20 & Volca Sample/fm, ‘Psiche Liberata’s velvet heaviness was achieved by re-amping many of the instruments through a Leslie Rotary Speaker and a reel-to-reel Telefunken. Fera’s sonic tapestry is in constant flux, underlying themes of love longing and affection run through the record but in a turbulent, volcanic, unleashed fashion, almost on the brink of utter noise or complete silence, reminding us that this is an artist like no other amidst the ever changing electronic scene. These are transmissions from the gutter, where the inevitable meets the unattainable and collapses.

"Fera’s tarnished materials are destined for ruin; “Stupida,” full of longing and regret, sounds like an elegy for a fallen world." Pitchfork

"A cut of dark magic that fits like a glove to overcast days, wild winds and lashing rains. Insistent, the treacle-thick bassline oozes out, soaking the space between the melancholic synth lines." Inverted Audio

"The songs on Stupidamutaforma feel hypnotizing...it establishes De Franco as a composer who uses space and time to create a set of rich, immersive works." Bandcamp 'Album Of The Day'

Writing music for film and theatre has always been a big part of Hania Rani's musical world. It is also a part of the creative process that can be tantalisingly out of reach for listeners, either the project doesn't come to fruition or the music simply isn't available away from the film or play. From early collaborations with friends, to last year's two scores for full length films (xAbo: Father Boniecki directed by Aleksandra Potoczek and I Never Cry directed by Piotr Domalewski') Rani has been involved in many such projects, each representing an important step in her artistic development and life as a composer and artist:

"Composing for motion picture or theatre is for me a very different kind of work than writing for my own projects. Firstly, I need to collaborate with somebody else who sees the world through the lense of their own art and craft. That's why these kinds of encounters can be so exciting - they are a promise of creating something very new, as a result of creative work of so many people from all walks of life. Secondly, I feel that music in film is an invisible character, a missing emotion that creates a special atmosphere and sensation. It doesn't illustrate, it completes the work of art. I think it is an extremely sensitive matter that rejects banal associations and easy solutions. I feel like composing for film works like an exercise for my imagination."

It is the nature of these collaborations though, that sometimes the composers own preferred compositions don't make the final cut. This is where Music for Film and Theatre comes in as it allows Rani to present a selection of her own personal favourite pieces composed for film and plays. Pieces that made it to the final cut and pieces that were rejected by the director or the producer. Bringing the music together as an album offers a chance for Rani to share her music with her listeners on her own terms and a chance for her fans to hear a different side of her art.

"I put them in one place, as a collection of precious objects that were kept for years in a drawer. Some of them were composed a couple years ago, some are the result of recent research. I am very happy to finally be able to present them as a separate project."

Rani is of course grateful to all of the directors who have entrusted her to create music for their projects, but she professes especially warm feelings for the pieces composed for her first 'real' theatre play, Pradziady, directed by Michał Zdunik. The title comes from 'Dziady' a term in Slavic folklore for the spirits of the ancestors and a collection of pre-Christian rites, rituals and customs that were dedicated to them. The essence of these rituals was the 'communion of the living with the dead', namely, the establishment of relationships with the souls of the ancestors. "I felt this story needed extremely dark and fragile music, and at the same time a sound that could express the mixture of the two worlds - the living and the dead. I decided to compose part of the soundtrack with a string quartet but including two cellos, viola and only one violin. We recorded in a little house, completely built from wood, mostly from Finnish pine. I always felt this space has a very special, warm and natural acoustics - especially when it is combined with string instruments. The track composed for this theatre play is called Ghosts but actually didn't finally make it to the performance, although I like it so much that I thought it would perfectly fit



this compilation". Other highlights include the enchanting Soleil Pâle written for a collaboration with director Neels Castillon, and improvising dancers Alt Take, the beautiful melancholy of In Between (from the film score for xAbo: Father Boniecki) and the magical bliss of The Beach (from I Never Cry) and together they create a beautiful offering from an artist whose every note is worth hearing, but for whom the journey is just beginning:

"I am very happy to see that many artists consider my music as the right soundtrack for their works, because film music was always a huge inspiration for any of my compositions. I find there a lot of life and real emotions, but also a feeling of freedom. Freedom from my own thinking patterns and prejudices. I also believe strongly in collaboration between people, I always feel this is the way to create something really new, based on a mixture of different ways of thinking, feeling, expressing."

This then is Hania Rani, Music for Film and Theatre – enjoy!

Repress!

** Now available on vinyl* Steve Reich remains one of the most important figures in
20th century music. Though he studied at the prestigious
arts institutions Julliard and Mills College, by the mid-
1960s Reich set about dismantling the very orthodoxy that
he had been trained in. Forming a new musical language
based on repetitive processes, Reich became established
as part of the so-called 'Big Four' of New York minimalists
(along with La Monte Young, Terry Riley and Philip
Glass). Reich's influence can easily be seen today in both
the classical world and contemporary pop music.
'Four Organs' is the ultimate minimalist composition.
Performed by Reich, Glass, Art Murphy and Steve Chambers,
four identical Farfisa organs strike a single chord and
gradually lengthen each note to produce polyrhythms between
the players. Anchored by Jon Gibson's stoicallysteady
pulse on maracas, the piece deconstructs its opening
burst to a sustained mass of sound - stretching the tones to
create (in Reich's words) 'slow-motion music.'
Inspired by Reich's early training on drums, 'Phase Patterns'
treats the keyboards like tuned percussion instruments:
a basic rhythm pattern is played in unison and almost imperceptibly increases tempo to move out-of-sync.
Each progressive cycle emphasizes unique figures that are
not generated by an individual alone, but rather emerge
from the communal expression of the group.
Originally released on Shandar in 1971, Four Organs /
Phase Patterns is one of most highly regarded avant-garde
recordings in the past 45 years. This CD release features
cover photography by artist Michael Snow and is recommended
for fans of Neu!, Glenn Branca and Tim Hecker.

Welcome to the " Triangle d'Or " by Nathan Melja. The first opus of a series to come out on his label Parodia, this record is an ode to those Parisian nights where the prestige and extravagance are prior.

Showing a strong willing to integrate elements from the mainstream world in his creative process, the EP opens with the contemplative and emotive 'Stargazing'. You're walking down Champs Elysées, looking at the sky. In a fraction of a second, everything starts to move in slow motion. You're passing out, your eyes stuck on moving stars. It was all a dream, they say.

As you wake up, you're sitting next to a glossy club. 'UnDcided' is blasting out of that neon door. You get lost in its colorful and trippy intro before your head starts to feel the vibrations of its wobbly baseline.

You need a cocktail to get your night started. You enter the restaurant next door. 'Welcome!' is playing in the background. That's Patrick Holland on the guitars you just tried to Shazam! Like the missing piece is not missing anymore.

One too many drinks - you got lost in the groove of the night. It's time to go home. As you leave the club, the sounds of 'Bblluurrryy' are floating in the air, every noise you hear melts into the music. Everything looks hazy. Nothing feels the same anymore.

Steve Reich remains one of the most important figures in 20th century music. As part of the so-called "Big Four" of New York minimalists (along with La Monte Young, Terry Riley and Philip Glass), Reich influenced both the classical world and contemporary pop music.





Back in print ! Steve Reich remains one of the most important figures in 20th century music. Though he studied at the prestigious arts institutions Julliard and Mills College, by the mid-1960s Reich set about dismantling the very orthodoxy that he had been trained in. Forming a new musical language based on repetitive processes, Reich became established as part of the so-called "Big Four" of New York minimalists (along with La Monte Young, Terry Riley and Philip Glass). Reich's influence can easily be seen today in both the classical world and contemporary pop music."Four Organs" is the ultimate minimalist composition. Performed by Reich, Glass, Art Murphy and Steve Chambers, four identical Farfisa organs strike a single chord and gradually lengthen each note to produce polyrhythms between the players. Anchored by Jon Gibson's stoically-steady pulse on maracas, the piece deconstructs its opening burst to a sustained mass of sound – stretching the tones to create (in Reich's words) "slow-motion music."

Inspired by Reich's early training on drums, "Phase Patterns" treats the keyboards like tuned percussion instruments: a basic rhythm pattern is played in unison and almost imperceptibly increases tempo to move out-of-sync. Each progressive cycle emphasizes unique figures that are not generated by an individual alone, but rather emerge from the communal expression of the group. Originally released on Shandar in 1971, Four Organs / Phase Patterns is one of the most highly regarded avant-garde recordings of the past 50 years. This first-time vinyl reissue features cover photography by artist Michael Snow and is recommended for fans of Neu!, Glenn Branca and Tim Hecker.

January 2023, Dorset. Snow is piled at the door, icy roads are closed, and Emily Cross is in a coffin. Not a setting typical for a rebirth. But for Loma, this is where they bring their band back from the brink. "It's like a demon enters the room, whenever we get together", writer, singer and instrumentalist Cross says of the struggle to bring new Loma music into the world. Following the release of their 2020 second album Don't Shy Away, Loma's three members were cast around the globe and the band-not for the first time-entered a deep sleep. Multi-instrumentalist and recording engineer Dan Duszynski remained in his studio in Don't Shy Away's central Texas heart, but Cross, a UK citizen, moved to Dorset, and writer and instrumentalist Jonathan Meiburg left the US for Germany to research a book. In the pandemic years, even being in the same room was impossible, and attempts to start a new record faltered. The following winter, in an attempt to salvage the record and the band, Cross suggested they regroup in the UK, in the tiny stone house-once a coffin-maker's workshop-where she works as an end-of-life doula. With minimal recording gear and few instruments, Loma turned two whitewashed rooms into a makeshift studio, using a padded coffin as a vocal booth. It was a turning point. They scrapped much of what they'd made, letting a new place set a new course. The one-lane roads, hedgerows and dark skies of Dorset gave the new songs an ineffable but unmistakable Englishness. The band used the ruin of a 12th-century chapel as a reverb chamber-surprising hillwalkers who peeked in to find them singing to no one-and the sounds of Cross's chilly workshop wormed their way into the recording: a leaky pipe, a drummer's brushes on a metal lampshade, the voices left on an ancient answering machine. What emerged was How Will I Live Without A Body?: a gorgeous, unique, and oddly comforting album about partnership, loss, regeneration, and fighting the feeling that we're all in this alone. Many of its songs have a feeling of restless motion; faceless characters drift through meetings and partings, tangling together and slipping away. "I Swallowed A Stone" is like a nightmare with a happy ending; "How It Starts" and "Broken Doorbell" reflect on the challenge (and necessity) of wrestling with agoraphobia. Though the record nods to the trio's separate lives- a German percussion ensemble, a pair of Texan owls, and the surf at Chesil Beach make guest appearances-the core of Loma's sound remains intact: earthy, organic and deeply human, anchored by Cross's cool, clear voice. Loma's previous album, Don't Shy Away, was galvanized by the unexpected encouragement and contributions of Brian Eno. This time, they found inspiration in another hero, Laurie Anderson, who offered a chance to work with an AI trained on her entire body of work. Meiburg sent her a photo from his book-in-progress about the once and future life of Antarctica; Anderson's AI responded with two haunting poems. "We used parts of them in a few songs," he says. "And then Dan noticed that one of its lines, 'How will I live without a body?' would be a perfect name for the album, since we nearly lost sight of each other in the recording process." In the end, Loma's efforts to reconnect with one another are the album's central focus: what do you owe a shared past, when everyone and everything has changed? "Making this record tested us all," says Duszynski. "I think that feeling was alchemized through the music." Alchemized, because How Will I Live Without A Body? is by no means a stressed-out record: an undercurrent of deep calm runs through it. But maybe 'relaxed' isn't the right word. It's more like a feeling of relief, of making it through a tough journey together.

The new album from Lebanese-American musician Solpara, Melancholy Sabotage, marks his full length debut and return to Nicolas Jaar's Other People label. While it was recorded over Covid lockdowns, Jaar had been talking about wanting to back a Solpara full-length since he put out Swing. The album came to life while Solpara was living alone in a Brooklyn loft, collecting unemployment checks and viewing ample free time as the artist residency he'd dreamed of; he'd previously been forced to make music in odd windows between numerous jobs and the unmerciful pace of city life. Free from obligations, he would wake up early to take Arabic lessons online, read Tracey Thorn's autobiography, and skateboard the deserted streets, then come home and design sounds until he had a track that felt like it needed to be released. While this easy going lifestyle was peaceful in many ways, Solpara found more complex inspiration in the emotion that stemmed from participation in Black Lives Matter protests and the 2020 Beirut Port explosion, which rocked all of his extended family members in Lebanon.

Melancholy Sabotage explores the theme of sabotaging melancholy. Echoing sounds from the post-punk, trip-hop, and ambient genres, it is about sabotaging the cycle of melancholy and looking at this process without ignoring the sources that put it into motion. It may be compared to a rattling breaking free from retention, reaching states of dreamy euphoria while simultaneously acknowledging the sources of retention, viewed from above. The sources can be personal, political, or socio-economic. They are to be apprehended post-melancholy, after the sabotaging of the initial cycle of melancholy. In other words, it is about transcending melancholy and understanding where it came from with some distance. It may be beautiful and healthy to feel for a while, but how may one sabotage this cycle when it becomes paralyzing? Ultimately, this album is about feeling melancholy but also resisting it and naming the sources that initiated it.

"Time To Hold Better" points to neglect on both personal and group levels. "This Time Last Year" is a personal time capsule. "We Keep Us Safe" is about solidarity, autonomy, and care witnessed within protest groups. "Melancholy Sabotage" is a sonic exploration of the album concept illustrating anger and sadness, but finally, resistance and liberation from these feelings. "Measures" is a more fluid exploration of the latter after the initial storm has passed. "We Don't Owe" points to bigger bodies inflicting harm on populations that we owe nothing to. "Breaking Points" harkens the times that we may lose focus while pushing to transcend melancholy. "Eviction" is about being pushed out of a space unwillingly while simultaneously being forced to move forward.

Melancholy Sabotage pulls from a range of genres, uniting electronic sounds under the same post-punky glow. It pulls from complex, heavy themes including damage and injustice, presenting Solpara's most moving body of work to date. It highlights the poignance that has always been at the heart of his fluid sound, which caters to dancefloors and avant-garde spaces in equal measure. Working with a mix of dissonant guitars, distorted drum machines, and distant, reverb-washed vocals, Melancholy Sabotage is Solpara's uneasiest outing to date. The record pinpoints the duality at the heart of Solpara's sound, which is as plaintive as it is searing.