Experimental Deephouse Afro-futurism album by Dub poetry free spirit Jasmine Tutum, with production by OG Jahtari lads disrupt and Rootah as The Other Others, oscillating between spaced out soundscapes, floaty hoovers and heavy movers.
Tokyo-born, grown up in Jamaica and living in Germany (with various stops in-between) Jasmine’s wild biography translates into sonic territory with this LP, drawing inspiration from Grace Jones and Theo Parrish, newworldaquarium and Roger Robinson alike.d
NYC experimental producer Neud Photo is up next on EYA's LONEWOLF series with a killer 5 tracker named 'Echoes.
The EP brilliantly oscillates between various inspirations with a strong machine sound; an incredible and hauting journey into electro,new beat, minimal and techno.
The visionary French musician stays true, in this third compendium too, to his path of planetary asceticism. A new treasure chest of secrets reveals to us the same spirituality of total experimentation, by balancing the universe and the inner soul. In Taste The Fullness Of Life Ariel builds his symphonic pillars toward the cosmos, eternal architectures that always smell of Indian fragrances. The music always communicates a state of full grace, spreading balms of bliss. An unprecedented whispered narrating voice, evident especially in Spiritual Chanson D'Esprit, is embellished with textures of harmonic bells, tropical flutes, spacey harmoniums and drones of mystical light. In the recordings of Going Inward, also made on the occasion of a Tantric workshop, Kalma oscillates between tribal electronic dances, metalic almost industrial rhythms, but then always falls back in a comfort zone made of desert carpets of synths and baths of sound (gong/bells). Harmonica Galactica crowns interestellar dreams with unscrupulous drum-machine gears and pulsing saxes, superb use of VCS3 with arabesque and Schulzian overtones, and suave touches of fingerpicking guitar with freak vibes typical of psych-folk.
Repress!
Four Units is a kind of Japanese jazz “all star”. Recorded in Tokyo on April 1969, it was released the same year on Union records.
On the first two long songs that open this album, “Four Units” and “Dull Slumber”, we can feel the influence of the “avant-garde” scene of US jazz (and in particular ESP Disk), without however the music sounding too “free”. A whole new vibe on the astonishing cover of “Scarborough Fair”, in a modal style, where the shadow of McCoy Tyner seems to hang over the piano.
The next two tracks, “Rainbow Trout” and “Black Bass”, are still pretty much along the same line, sometimes oscillating towards “hard bop”, the album ending in a blaze of glory with a solo by Masahiko Togashi. While this album had a second pressing in Japan in the 70s, this is the first time it has been reissued with its gatefold cover. Musicians : Tenor Sax, Flute - Akira Miyazawa Piano - Masahiko Sato Drums - Masahiko Togashi Bass - Yasuo Arakawa Recorded in Tokyo, April 2 and 25th 1969
Joe Sutkowski (Dirt Buyer)'s new album is a documentation of making it to the other side. Sutkowski grew up in New Jersey, and although he lives in Brooklyn now, he remains " an emo kid at heart ," garnering inspiration from bands like My Chemical Romance and Muse, the latter of whose theatrical, dramatic performances inspired the band's own vocal-forward, soaring takes. Initially working together as a duo while Sutkowski and Ruben Radlauer (Model/Actriz) were at school in Berklee, the band's self-titled 2019 debut album was recorded on an IPhone in their practice room on just drums and guitar, and the quietly striking, nuanced stylings earned them accolades far beyond the " fake record label " the two made up to originally release their music. The band's new album, Dirt Buyer II , was recorded in February 2020, and represents a foray into heavier material that marks a deeper shift for the band. Now working as a trio, Sutkowski is flanked by Tristan Allen on bass and Mike Costa on drums, a fellow Berklee grad who cut his teeth playing in bands across Boston including past collaborations with Sutkowski. Half-recorded while the band was on tour with Surf Curse, the record finds Sutkowski reaching out for places, people and beliefs to ground him. Throughout the album he attempts to wrap his head around the idea of fate and how you can brush up against other people and then leave them behind. The songs themselves play with this concept of light and dark intertwined. Oscillating between urgency and cathartic release and more stripped-back elegies, Sutkowski faces the reality that while the people he'd rather forget can still live on through music, he is able to move on at the same time. Half-recorded in his mother and uncle's upstate house where he turned the living room into a studio, he contemplates the beauty and disaster around him - all refracted through visceral visual imagery of how the physical earth meets the unknown to converge in something greater than ourselves. " This is all a living chronicle of all I want to do, which is feel good and be happy ," he admits. " I'm a completely different person now - a better version of myself ." Processing the past, Sutkowksi has emerged with newfound belief, fully intact and with a new path forward to the future.
Joe Sutkowski (Dirt Buyer)'s new album is a documentation of making it to the other side. Sutkowski grew up in New Jersey, and although he lives in Brooklyn now, he remains " an emo kid at heart ," garnering inspiration from bands like My Chemical Romance and Muse, the latter of whose theatrical, dramatic performances inspired the band's own vocal-forward, soaring takes. Initially working together as a duo while Sutkowski and Ruben Radlauer (Model/Actriz) were at school in Berklee, the band's self-titled 2019 debut album was recorded on an IPhone in their practice room on just drums and guitar, and the quietly striking, nuanced stylings earned them accolades far beyond the " fake record label " the two made up to originally release their music. The band's new album, Dirt Buyer II , was recorded in February 2020, and represents a foray into heavier material that marks a deeper shift for the band. Now working as a trio, Sutkowski is flanked by Tristan Allen on bass and Mike Costa on drums, a fellow Berklee grad who cut his teeth playing in bands across Boston including past collaborations with Sutkowski. Half-recorded while the band was on tour with Surf Curse, the record finds Sutkowski reaching out for places, people and beliefs to ground him. Throughout the album he attempts to wrap his head around the idea of fate and how you can brush up against other people and then leave them behind. The songs themselves play with this concept of light and dark intertwined. Oscillating between urgency and cathartic release and more stripped-back elegies, Sutkowski faces the reality that while the people he'd rather forget can still live on through music, he is able to move on at the same time. Half-recorded in his mother and uncle's upstate house where he turned the living room into a studio, he contemplates the beauty and disaster around him - all refracted through visceral visual imagery of how the physical earth meets the unknown to converge in something greater than ourselves. " This is all a living chronicle of all I want to do, which is feel good and be happy ," he admits. " I'm a completely different person now - a better version of myself ." Processing the past, Sutkowksi has emerged with newfound belief, fully intact and with a new path forward to the future.
In the early 1990s, a team of linguists, engineers, anthropologists, and archaeologists were tasked with constructing a type of communication that could transcend time. How might we converse with future civilizations when language may evolve or dissolve entirely? The result yielded the design of spike fields; a strange construction of granite thorns bursting from the earth to alert its viewers to the deadly uninhabitability of nuclear waste disposal sites. For Maria BC (they/them), this state of temporal focus molds the wanderings on their second full length album Spike Field. How do we connect with the weathered shadow of our experience, while envisioning the self a few steps ahead of us? While their debut album Hyaline (2022, Father/Daughter) explored grief and anxiety through a series of character-led accounts, Spike Field recognizes that the past will continue to lurk below the surface until we decide to break through the soil. Spike Field was recorded in the home of a family friend. The home featured an out-of-tune baby Steinway piano, complete with squeaky hammers and strange, sporadic sounds. The piano is sprinkled throughout the album, and features extensively on opener "Amber," showcasing Maria BC's looser, more extensive arrangements. The song flickers with electronic wonder, like a wave seeking out its station, before crashing into the angelic choral introduction of "Watcher". Strings, plucked guitar and buzzing swells accompany their classically-trained mezzo-soprano voice on "Return to Sender," a song that focuses on the frustrations and turmoil of being unable to reach a loved one--both physically and emotionally. Spike Field reminds us that despite our best efforts to bury certain aspects of ourselves, they will always lurk beneath the surface. Instead of ignoring the seeds striving to break through, we can point to these places with a curious grace, concocting a language that transcends words to converse with our previous selves. Maria BC pieces together juxtaposing sonic landscapes and oscillating vocals to represent the thread of miscommunication, or the failure of words, that weaves throughout the album, transforming it into a distinct and ever-evolving sonic tongue. If we listen, we might find something new within ourselves.
A "pop savant of the first order" (AllMusic) who "projects an outsize persona from the stage" (Pitchfork), Mike Adams has created a singular homespun entertainment universe since 2011's Oscillate Wisely. He's an appealingly confident showman on his cable access-style variety show (The Mike Adams Show), and an affably humble Hoosier touring musician on his podcast (Tan Van Tour Talk). As Mike Adams at His Honest Weight, he's a hooky songwriter and multi-instrumentalist with a knack for embodying contradictions. The latest in a prolific stream of recordings, Guess for Thrills gets deep, blending 70's-inspired pop songs with synthesizer-driven atmospherics and emerging with a wild and searching album that treats ambiguity as a place of discovery.
First 7'' release from Dressel Amorosi, the duo of Federico Amorosi (bass) and Valerio Lombardozzi (keys, synth & programming). Halfway between cosmic-funk and Italo-disco, the two tracks on this release are infused with the fusion- and electronic-oriented spirit of late '70s and early '80s Italian soundtracks and library music.
"Synthporn", on side A, is a midtempo instrumental with a voluptuous electronic feel, a mixture of glamour and retrofuturism driven by Amorosi's pulsating bass and Lombardozzi's elegant oscillators.
"Cargo", on the flip side, brings infectious '80s dance vibes to the table with a warm slice of synth-pop that can fit any scenario and filmic mood, from action to comedy.
Works for the Ever Present Orchestra Vol. II continues Black Truffle’s documentation of the late work of legendary American experimental composer Alvin Lucier, who sadly passed away in 2021 at the age of 90. Like the first volume of the series, the two works recorded here were written for The Ever Present Orchestra, an ensemble founded in Zürich in 2016 to perform Lucier’s work exclusively. At the core of the music Lucier wrote for the ensemble is the electric guitar, an instrument he began to explore in 2013. Played with e-bows, in these works electric lap steel guitars take on roles akin to the slow sweep pure wave oscillators heard in many of Lucier’s works since the early 1980s. This strikingly elegant pair of compositions would serve as an ideal introduction to Lucier’s late music for a listener as yet unfamiliar with its graceful exploration of beating patterns and other acoustic phenomenon.
The two pieces have quite different characters, exemplifying Lucier’s ability to harvest a remarkable range of musical results from closely related compositional procedures and concerns. In Arrigoni Bridge (2019), Lucier uses a technique familiar from earlier works such as Still Lives (1995), where sine waves traced the shapes of household objects. Here, three lap steel electric guitars (played by Oren Ambarchi, Bernhard Rietbrock, and Jan Thoben) follow the form of the Arrigoni Bridge that connects Middletown and Portland, Connecticut. The bridge’s two enormous steel arcs become slowly sweeping pitches, alongside which alto saxophone (Joan Jordi Oliver Arcos), violin (Rebecca Thies) and cello (Lucy Railton) sustain long tones, creating a variety of audible beating patterns depending on their distance from or proximity to the guitars. With its stately pacing, warm middle register tones, and rich timbral variety in the sustaining instruments, Arrigoni Bridge is a beautiful example of compositional reduction producing immersive results. Flips (2020), on the other hand, is more austere. Scored for two lap steel electric guitars (Rietbock and Thoben), double bass (Ross Wightman) and glockenspiel (Trevor Saint), the two acoustic instruments played with bows, the piece zooms in on the range of a major second (two semitones). The two guitars sweep in opposite directions within the range, crossing every four minutes; the double bass and glockenspiel sustain long tones, producing beats of different speeds determined by their distance from the guitar tones. This limitation of the tonal range means the music is often dissonant and forces the phenomenon of audible beating to the surface, resulting in a paradoxical music composed entirely of long tones yet alive with pulsating rhythm. Exemplifying Lucier’s ability to uncover near-infinite complexity within seemingly simple materials, Works for the Ever Present Orchestra Vol. II is a fitting tribute to one of the major figures of the experimental music tradition and a testament to the continuing power of his work.
The inaugural release on KMRU's own fledgling OFNOT imprint, 'Dissolution Grip' is an ambitious project that emerged from his studies at Berlin's prestigious UDK. The Kenyan composer and sound artist is best known for his field recording work, and as he traveled across Europe and the wider world for regular live performances, he made a point to snapshot each city. But the more he studied and the more he examined his practice, the more KMRU began to wonder what the purpose of these recordings were, and what bearing they might actually have on his self-expression. Simultaneously, he'd begun to dive more wholeheartedly into the world of synthesis. In a way, synthesis is the most basic form of sound, and KMRU started to wonder not just how he could harness these sounds but how he might be able to more dynamically combine them with field recordings.
Guided by Jasmine Guffond at Berlin's Universität der Künste (better known as UDK), KMRU looked at waveforms - the visual representation of sound itself - and embarked on a process where he would write scores from the shapes, gradually turning the scores into raw synth sounds. Considering the spaces he was inspired by and shuttled through, KMRU decided that instead of using environmental recordings as an aesthetic marker, he would use these captured moments to guide the waveforms. So each sound is birthed from a field recording, but none of those recordings are audible in their original form. For example, on the digital bonus track 'Along A Wall', KMRU recorded in an old shack on his family's compound in Nairobi, where wind was shaking the building to its foundations. Listening to the finished piece, we can hear subtle electronic tones that rub and vibrate against each other, slowly saturating and mimicking the erratic motion of the wind. The original recording has been removed, but the feeling remains.
The album's opening side 'Till Hurricane Bisect' is a 15-minute epic that evolves at its own glacial pace, carefully transforming blustering wind sounds into gasping drones, glassy oscillations and choked distortion. Cosmic and meditative, it's a testament to KMRU's skill as a sound engineer and patience as a composer, combining the gentle world building of his acclaimed Editions Mego album 'Peel' with the rumbling energy of 'Limen', last year's collaboration with Aho Ssan. On the title track, KMRU takes the opportunity to flex his orchestral muscle, conducting a cast of warbling synth tones into a durational symphony. Starting as quietly as a whisper, 'Dissolution Grip' expands at its own pace until it's a dense wall of harmony, powerful but never completely overwhelming. It's music embedded with a rich sense of place that informs us of KMRU's past and present, and signals where his musical philosophy might take us in the future.
Félicia Atkinson: »Ni envers ni endroit que cette roche brûlante (Pour Georgia O’Keeffe)« (2021)
Félicia Atkinson’s Ni envers ni endroit que cette roche brûlante (Pour Georgia O’Keeffe) is approached as a meditation, not as meditative music, but as a reflection on the art of creation: how to inhabit one’s creation, how to convey it, domesticate it and live with it. Drawing inspiration from the artist Georgia O’ Keeffe, both in her work as a painter and in the houses in which she lived in New Mexico, and even in the landscapes that surround them, Félicia Atkinson has composed a piece that evokes and celebrates, in a poetic and holistic way, the mystery of art, the somnambulic oscillation that accompanies the act of creating. Blending fragmentary voices, islands of piano, electronic textures and patterns, and field recordings, Félicia Atkinson’s music is sincere and inspired, a meditation, then, but also a lesson we sometimes forget: being an artist is not an activity, even less a profession, it’s a singular way of approaching the world and, in so doing, densifying it.
Richard Chartier: »Recurrence.Expansion« (2020)
Richard Chartier’s music takes up residence at the frontiers of the audible, on the edge where sound diffracts into an inter-dimensionality where sounds, space, listening and silence recombine in an arborescence of becomings that present themselves to us and then disappear. The space-time in which Richard Chartier’s music unfolds is a stretched space-time, barely emerging in the world of sound. The delicacy, precision and accuracy of the composition Recurrence. Expansion lies precisely in this dialogue between a shape that is exposed and developed in an inspired and masterful way, and the sonic biotope in which this shape develops. It is from such an encounter that the singularity of Richard Chartier’s music emerges, music of attentive listening, but also sensitive, inhabited music, a music of discreet metamorphosis.
Martina Berther and Philipp Schlotter are prolific in their respective ways, having been active in pop and jazz music, respectively, as well as playing in bands and exploring the outer fringes of sound art or composing music for film. Their first joint album »Matt« was recorded over the course of four days in a church in the Swiss village after which the album was named. Berther and Schlotter worked with the buildingʼs organ as well as synthesizers and electric bass to follow an experimental approach that oscillated between composition and free improvisation. The five pieces, recorded directly to tape by Flo Götte without any additional overdubs, are characterised by an intimacy and rawness that calls to mind the introspective atmosphere of Hallow Ground label mateʼs FUJI||||||||||TA or mastering engineer Lawrence Englishʼs latest album for the Swiss label. »Matt« is the result of two versatile composers and musicians executing minimalist ideas by giving them plenty of space to unfold.
The album opens with »Unruhe,« a composition that is based on the twelve-tone technique. Using a stopwatch to ensure the adherence to the pre-determined temporal intervals between the individual notes, Berther and Schlotter used the church organ and synthesizers for an ominous piece that traverses different moods and levels of intensity throughout its 14-minute run time. »LFO1« and »LFO2« are different variations of the same concept: Based on a synthesizer preset and structured by an organ drone, two tone generators slowly fall silent, resulting in elegiac pieces that call to mind the work of Éliane Radigue. »Frachter« and »Gallia« put more emphasis on percussive elements. Again working with organ as well as Bertherʼs prepared electric bass, this improvisation comprises interlocking textures that sound almost menacing on »Frachter,« while they create a very different atmosphere on »Gallia.« These notable discrepancies in sound and mood are even more astonishing if you consider that the two pieces are based on the exact same recording, played at different speeds.
As two variations on the same idea with very different results, these two pieces perfectly represent how the duo effectively creates emotionally affective sound worlds with very few means. Berther and Schlotterʼs conceptual minimalism yields rewarding, multi-faceted aesthetic results. »Matt« is an intimate album, marked by a sense of vividness and spontaneity, but also the product of compositional conciseness.
WORMHOLE brechen mit "Almost Human", ihrem dritten Album und dem ersten für Season of Mist, aus dem Untergrund hervor. Die Band aus Baltimore hat mit ihrer Tech-Slam Attacke ein Loch in das Death-Metal-Kontinuum gerissen! "Almost Human" zeigt den rasanten Aufstieg von WORMHOLE. Es gibt keine Decke, die sie nicht durchschlagen können.
WORMHOLE brechen mit "Almost Human", ihrem dritten Album und dem ersten für Season of Mist, aus dem Untergrund hervor. Die Band aus Baltimore hat mit ihrer Tech-Slam Attacke ein Loch in das Death-Metal-Kontinuum gerissen! "Almost Human" zeigt den rasanten Aufstieg von WORMHOLE. Es gibt keine Decke, die sie nicht durchschlagen können.
No stranger to the limelight with a string of forward-thinking, sought-after releases under his belt, Snad joins the roster of cutting-edge artists bringing his spark to Phonica AM under curation of Luther Vine.
The 'Labyrinthine EP' opens with a relentless 4 to the floor club ready firestarter. Aptly titled 'Quark' hits the spot in all the right places. Its swinging drum work out and oscillating chords swirl to a frenzy and guarantee to set any a dance floor ablaze.
The A2 'Labyrinthine' boots off with Snad's unique take on UK 90s Tech-House, full groove, snare syncopation and whirlwind of off-centre synth cords, adding to his effervescent sound design.
The flip side opens with a killer remix fellow Berliner expat, Huerta's take on 'Quark'. The remix retains the destructive dance floor potential of the original and adds somewhat in the hypnotic trip out department. Full engagement is guaranteed from start to finish even for the more of an absent-minded listener on this one.
Snad closes the EP with 'Revival'. This cross-genre juggernaut effortlessly marries puncy breaks with dubbed out echos while the resonant synth chords and muddled vocal chops expand listener's perception of sonar possibilities to places few have imagined possible. One of the rare tracks which hovers on the fringe of experimentation but guarantees to move the peak time crowd of the most discerning listening habits.
Guy Pedersen's magical Maxi Music, originally released on cult Parisian library label tele Music in 1972, is psyche-rock and jazz-funk gold. It's a vital Pederson outing, oscillating between the rough and the smooth, but always with those hypnotic grooves. It's a start-to-finish winner, yet the final 13-minute-long opus will blow minds. Trust!
Stirring opener, "Prétexte Pour Indicatifs" is so mighty, it was covered by Keith Mansfield on "Hot Property" from Big Business/Wind Of Change on KPM. It's a track in 4 deliberate parts, the first a rapid tour de force, the second and third presenting organ-and-wah-wah-drenched slo-mo funk workouts and the fourth a return to the frenetic energy of the opening bars. Phew, pretty sensational. "Purgatoire Mood (Interlude)" is a beautiful segue into the stunning horn-laced, swift-paced aggressive jazzy excellence of "Purgatoire Mood 1" and the more poetic "Purgatoire Mood 2". Fast-paced funk beats and dramatic interplay!
"Christophus Colombus" is another song with multiple sections; the intro a rapid wah-wah-enhanced psych-rock statement that truly thrills before settling into a more steady yet no-less unrelenting guitar-funk showcase with wordless vocals and, later, reflective guitar and piano in gorgeous harmony. Closing out this electrifying side, the elegant "Bass In Love" is a soft'n'sultry slo-mo funk instrumental, as rough cello, jazzy piano and salacious, breathy vocals combine to create the scent of lingering heat to pretty rousing effect.
Ushering in Side B, "Sing Song Bass" is a slow starter but, once the drums kick in brilliantly, we're treated to a deeply melodic, propulsive, organ-flute-piano-bass gem - it's truly memorable and absolutely fantastic. The wonky, delirious psych-pop of "Petit Moujik De Nuit" is a curiously compelling number but it serves, for us at least, only as the pre-curser to the phenomenal closing track. An absolute beast that totally slays all before it!
Yes, despite Maxi Music being that rarest of library records - a record that can stand up on its own from front to back - it really does contain that *one* absolute killer track. And Peterson saved the best until last. The real highlight - can you imagine there's better?! - is the blazing psych-rock funky burner that is the infamous 13 minute thriller "Kermesse Non Héroique". Containing a wicked flute solo it genuinely sounds like something off the first Dungen album. Yes, that good. What a way to go out!
The audio for Maxi Music has been remastered by Be With regular Simon Francis, ensuring this release sounds better than ever. Cicely Balston's expert skills have made sure nothing is lost in the cut whilst the original, iconic Tele Music house sleeve has been restored here at Be With HQ as the finishing touch to this long overdue re-issue.
Recorded in 1995 and 1996, mostly in John Fahey"s room at a Salem, Oregon boardinghouse, the performances on Proofs and Refutations prefigure the ornery turn of the page that marked Fahey"s final years, drawing another enigmatic rabbit from his seemingly bottomless musical hat. Cloaked in the language of dogma - what is he proving? refuting? - this is Fahey dancing a jig in the Duchampian gap, jester cap bells a-jingling. True believers? He"s got something for you: an uncompromising vision that you can sneer at ("guy can"t play anymore and refuses to concede!") or embrace as evidence of his genius ("the reinventor does it again!"). Skeptics? He"s there with you, too: sending up the fallacy of certitudes altogether. Institutions, systems, accepted wisdoms. Heroes. Alternative facts, indeed. Right out of the gate, Fahey re-materializes before us, somewhere between Oracle of Delphi and Clown Prince at Olympus. Mounting a thundering dialectic from on high, "All the Rains" resembles nothing else in his extensive discography - betraying roots in everything from Dada to Episcopal liturgical chant - and contains nary a plucked guitar note. You can"t fool him! When the lap steel of yore appears on "F for Fake," it serves more as soundbed for an extended sequence of vocal improvisations, running the gamut from wordless Bashoian caterwauling to free-form (but decidedly fake) Tuvan, even revealing a burnished falsetto in the process. Fahey takes on a different kind of provocation in the two acoustic guitar-based tracks closing Side 1 - "Morning" parts 1 and 2 - the first of 4 recordings in this session that have him wrestling with the ghost of Skip James, perhaps Fahey"s effort to wrench the "bitter, hateful old creep" (his words) back into the grave. Anchoring Side 2 is the two-part "Evening, Not Night," the second half of his extended cathexis on James (and the latter"s avowed castration complex - another story for another day, perhaps). Bit of a chill in the air - where"s the impish Fahey from earlier? Unmistakably working through some psychic wounds here, we might think: the unheimlich rendered in glistening viscera. Or is he playing with our notions of authenticity, of his reputation as troubadour of raw emotional states, a pilgrim of the ominous, the simmering unconscious? These cards are kept decidedly close to the vest. The opening and closing pieces again feature Fahey"s guitar as drone soundbed - employing distortion, oscillation, and an altogether absurd quotient of reverb to create texture and harmonics that are - if we wanna go there - not dissimilar to the sustained tonic clusters of Tibetan singing bowls, the hurdy gurdy, Hindustani classical music, or La Monte freaking Young. Portions of this material appeared on obscure late "90s vinyl in the 7" or double-78 rpm format, but as a "session" it has lain dormant more than a quarter century now. Taken together, we can now see these tracks as secret blueprints to latter-day Fahey provocations, several years prior to records like 1997"s City of Refuge and Womblife.
Clearlight returns, two years on from his DNO debut alongside regular collaborator Owl, with five otherworldly solo excursions.
What’s most striking about the Belgian’s work is the way he brings digital textures to life. Like an alien biosphere that doesn't abide by our own natural laws, his soundscapes are irregular and uncanny, but in a way that makes them feel all the more real.
Tracks like ‘Super Strong’ and ‘Heavy Feet’ sway and wobble to cumbersome beats, lumbering through swamps of croaking, chirping, fizzing things. The former eventually collapses into total abstraction, while the latter endures blasts of technoid bass, like the retrorockets of some hulking spacecraft coming in to land.
‘Spinning Head’ is powered by a buzzing oscillator that rolls back and forth across the stereo field. Paired with assorted clattering, clanking percussive debris, it’s an unnerving yet oddly pleasant experience, as if someone were rummaging around between your ears to help find a part that’s come loose.
Lead track ‘Water Willy’ is stranger still. Shifting from something akin to an exotica record played at the wrong speed to a melancholy whalesong lullaby, its twangs, chimes and plodding bass pulse create an eerie but beautiful ambience reminiscent of the deep ocean.
Only bonus track ‘Salt Cube’ is willing to break the spell, upping the pace to deliver the EP’s most traditionally dancefloor-friendly cut in the form of glitchy minimal d&b, with a heavyweight halftime switch post-breakdown.
Taking sounds from the club, but clearly not feeling forced to cater for it, Clearlight grows alternate realities that feel familiar, but offer wondrous, illuminating new experiences. Step inside and join him.
Rhythms of postmodern realism at the very bottom of the DNO.
Life On Mars is the 1976 debut album by the American R&B/jazz fusion singer, arranger, musician, composer and conductor Dexter Wansel. The album is considered to be a "space-funk" classic, inspired by David Bowie's "Life On Mars?". Wansel composed his own sci-fi sounds with swirling, ring-like oscillators, cosmic sub tones, and metallic, otherworldly leads using his signature ARP 2600 synthesizer. Wansel's pioneering synth sound was shared on numerous records with artists like MFSB, Billy Paul, Evelyn "Champagne" King, Teddy Pendergrass, and The Jones Girls. The album inspired other artists and Wansel's "Theme From The Planets" drum beat intro is hailed as being one of the first foundation beats of hip-hop. His sampled music has been used by Kanye West, Lil Wayne, Drake, Rick Ross, J. Cole, Wiz Khalifa, and Ice Cube amongst others.
Life On Mars is available as a limited edition of 1500 individually numbered copies on translucent blue coloured vinyl.
