Suche:parallel journey space travel

Ruby Red - Transparent - Galaxy effect vinyl in dub style jacket (jacket sleeve with center hole cut out so label of LP shows through) a black paper inner sleeve and poly bag.

PART ONE’ METAL HAMMER - 8/10 review. FOR FANS OF : Lustmord, Om, Sunn O))) . “An exercise in freeform ambience, ritualistic repetition and the rapturous, womb-like power of bass…strange and affecting. We remain lucky to share in the great man’s vision.”


At its heart, music has always been a questioning of inheritance – a dialogue with predecessors and forebears, the forging of one’s own perspective in relation to what has come before, and for some, a plunge into the boundless realms between. For Steve Von Till, that process has always taken on an added dimension to become the most sacred of tasks. Whether through the apocalyptic uprising of Neurosis, the sonic deconstructions of their sister project, Tribes of Neurot, the invocatory intimacy of his eponymous solo albums or his instrumental psychedelic reveries in the guise of Harvestman, that dialogue has never just been with musical influences, but with what underpins them: the primordial, elemental forces now banished to the peripheries of our contemporary consciousness, yet still broadcasting a signal for all who will listen.
Drawn to the megaliths, ruins and ancient sites mapped out along the British and European mainland’s geographical and psychic landscapes, the folklore and apocrypha forever resurfacing as portals from a rational world, “Triptych” is a meditation forged from traces and residues, and an hallucinatory recollection of artists who have tapped into that enduring otherworldliness embedded within us all. It’s a dream diary narrating a passage through Summer Isle where Flying Saucer Attack are wafting out of a window, a distant Fairport Convention are being remixed by dub master Adrian Sherwood, celestial scanners Tangerine Dream are trying to drown out Bert Jansch and Hawkwind are playing Steeleye Span covers, all prised out of time yet bound to its singularity.
Woven together from home studio recordings that span two decades, this latest outing as Harvestman finds parallels with nature’s cycles not just in its release dates but in the repeated structure that binds each album, like an imprint refracted through three separate strata. As with April’s “Part One” and the forthcoming “Part Three”, “Part Two”, starts on a collaboration with Om bassist and long-term friend of Steve’s, Al Cisneros, with a dub take opening the B-Side. Here, the opening track, “The Hag Of Beara Vs The Poet”’s languid, tribal groove expands into a chromatic wash, like an endless drip of oil spreading out under a midsummer haze.
A filtering of the alpha-state travelogues of its predecessor, “Part Two” reaches even deeper into primal yet pristine states. It journeys from the undulating drone and slow-thawing wonder of “The Falconer”, as if the Myst soundtrack were being broadcast from outer space, through “Damascus”’s perpetual-motion, dreamtime bazaar and “Vapour Phase”s seismograph frequencies measuring supernatural tremors to “The Unjust Incarceration”s distorted bagpipes, sounding a noise-frayed lament
If “Triptych” is a multi- and extra-sensory experience, it extends to the remarkable glyph-style artwork of Henry Hablak, a map of correspondences from a long-forgotten ancient and advanced civilization. As with “Triptych” itself, it’s an echo from another time, an act of binding, a guide to be endlessly reinterpreted, and a signpost to the sacred that might not indicate where to look, but how.

For 20 years Bart De Paepe has carved a distinctive trace in the realm of psychedelic underground and counterculture. With several outstanding solo albums on a.o. Astres d’Or, Ultra Eczema, No Basement Is Deep Enough and with many studio and concert ventures with Sylvester Anfang’s funeral folks, Louise Landes Levi, Timo van Luijk, Raymond Dijkstra to name a few, Bart De Paepe developed a wide and sharp spirit within the orbit of psychedelic improvisation. Since 2007, Bart also curates the Sloow Tapes and Sloowax labels with an impressive catalog of music and poetry by a wide range of resonating artists. Bart’s visual work (drawing and painting), parallel to his musical universe, has been used on many of these releases. He is a genuinely curious traveler, always discovering new dimensions, which is clearly to be heard on the four tracks of this album.

Zürahümnah is an immediate and immersive dive into solitary inner and outer worlds of light and darkness. Zürahümnah is a floating vibration of flickering twilight. Zürahümnah is a mysterious journey through detached time and space. Equipped with Hawaiian guitar, piano, organ and cymbal, Bart De Paepe sets the controls for the heart of the sun.

Though Toronto rockers Hot Garbage’s signature tinge of moody, heavy psychedelia remains present on Precious Dream, their forthcoming sophomore album careens at high speeds into a darker world of searing post-punk riffs, grappling with themes of dread, loss, the resilience of the human spirit and the highs and lows of solitude. From the onset, elegant yet brutalist sonic architectures provide the scenery for an escape route, while cryptic poetic spurts act as surreal signage. By the end of the journey, we are left with a strangely pleasant void, but also with an uncontrollable urge to backtrack into the outfit’s beautiful 36-minute musical trap. True to form, prolific producer Graham Walsh (Holy Fuck, No Joy, !!!, etc.) – with whom, Hot Garbage recorded their critically-acclaimed debut full-length, RIDE – does right by the band, masterfully harnessing the four-piece’s unique brand of rock & roll, setting in motion a parallel universe where phones are not what they seem, lobotomy has its merits, lower is actually better, and tunnels stretch the very fabric of spacetime. Fans of Sonic Youth, Frankie and the Witch Fingers or Joy Division should welcome a confused stroll down this romantic if dystopian opus, for a cathartic and tender sense of resolution awaits.

Red Brut’s third album, "On Bare Ground", is a sonic tapestry woven from the final threads of her Rotterdam existence. Entirely composed of soundscapes captured during her last two years in the city, the album evolves into a poignant farewell as its creation mirrors the passage of time, culminating in a profound departure from her life there.

A Coherent States, Dead Mind Records and Econore co-release. 200 copies on white vinyl, comes with obi-strip.

“On Bare Ground” is a sculptural work blending its lo-fi with haunting melodies, field recordings, and ethereal soundscapes. Uncompromising in its approach, the album evokes the echoes of experimental music from a spectrum that ranges from dark bedroom pop to rhythmic noise, crafting a cloudy and dreamlike atmosphere. With meticulous attention, it unfolds as a strong hypnotic journey, where intricate sounds emerge from a hidden center, while, in a parallel narrative, they gradually expose On Bare Ground’s underlying deep melancholic core.

Red Brut is the artistic alias of Dutch artist Marijn Verbiesen, who recently moved to Groningen and has been a vital force in Rotterdam's art scene. Her work reveals a particular sensitivity to everyday sounds, the soundscapes of cassette music, musique concrète, and spontaneous sound collage, combining these elements into a unique and truly personal avant-garde expression. This expression is present in various forms, in a wave of releases that began with limited-edition underground cassette releases in the mid-2010s and culminated in her two full-length albums, "Red Brut" (2018) on the Belgian label (K-RAA-K)³ and "Cloaked Travels" (2020) on the Finnish labels Lal Lal Lal and Ikuisuus. She has appeared at many important European festivals such as Rewire, KRAAK festival, Inversia, Colour Out Of Space and in numerous smaller venues worldwide. In addition to her career as Red Brut, Marijn is a member of the free improv/weirdo electronic pop duo Goldblum and before in the experimental no wave/noise trio Sweat Tongue.

“On bare Ground works as like an homage to self discovery amid urban malaise” The Wire

"The Remedy," is I G Culture's latest album under Likwid Continutal Space Motion, Culture draws parallels between the complex world of fungi and London's Underground dance music scene. Both are intricate networks that thrive beneath the surface, connecting diverse elements and influencing one another. The London dance music scene, like fungi, encompasses a variety of styles and genres, from drum and bass to Garage Dance Subcultures may go unnoticed to the casual observer but are musical corner stones in our society. Dance floors and clubs serve as spaces for communal healing, allowing people to let go of daily stresses and connect through music and dance. I G Culture's "The Remedy" celebrates this vibrant underground culture and highlights the interconnectedness of all musical styles. Through his innovative production and thematic depth, he underscores the transformative power of dance music, emphasizing its role in promoting well-being and unity. The idea of Fungi also is expressed in the artwork by Amsterdams 'Machine' with IG's direction, who used fungi in an original collage revealing a secret world.

Big Thief's music, rooted in the songs of Adrianne Lenker, paints in vivid tones "the process of harnessing pain, loss, and love, while simultaneously letting go, looking into your own eyes through someone else's, and being okay with the inevitability of death," says Adrianne.

Masterpiece, Big Thief's debut album, is -lled with characters and visceral narratives, songs that pivot in the space of a few words. Adrianne's voice and guitar playing speak of rich emotional territory with grace and insight. In her words, the record tracks "the masterpiece of existence, which is always folding into itself, people attempting to connect, to both shake themselves awake and to shake o­ the numbness of certain points in their life. The interpretations might be impressionistic or surrealistic, but they're grounded in simple things.'

Adrianne met her longtime musical partner, guitarist and singer, Buck Meek, in Brooklyn a few years ago, and they quickly formed a creative bond tempered by the experience of traveling and performing for months on end in old dive bars, yards, barns, and basements together. They recorded a pair of duo albums (A-Sides and B-Sides), and Adrianne showcased her songs on a solo album, Hours Were The Birds.

Now, as a full rock and roll band, with Buck on guitar, Max Oleartchik on bass, and James Krivchenia on drums, they bring a steady wildness, giving the songs an even deeper layer of nostalgia. "These guys feel like a pack of wolves at my back," says Adrianne, "they make the songs howl and bark with a fierce tenderness that gives me courage."
After spending last July in an old house that they turned into a studio on Lake Champlain with producer Andrew Sarlo, the resulting collection soars on what Big Thief fan Sharon Van Etten calls "...a real journey, with intelligent stories and twist-and-turn melodies.

Next up is an overdue reunion with a familiar face. After his outstanding contribution to Cocoon Compilation S and his first solo EP on Cocoon Recordings, Raxon is back with a more than equally fascinating sound. The Egyptian-born and now Barcelona-based artist is back on it again, delivering two tracks that will take you on a journey through the depths of robotic soundscapes.
Intricate beats, hypnotic synthesizer melodies, deep bassline grooves, and distinctive EFX sounds create Raxon’s very special signature sound.

Straight drum programming paired with chirping percussions takes us away to embark on a travel through space and time while distinctive claps poke through a futuristic nebula of floating and shifting sequences. The twisted melody of “Robotalia” carries us to a parallel dimension of machine sound and if you listen closely, you can hear the robots’ screwing and sawing. Warping bleeps and mechanical effects complete the robotic feeling. Raxon’s understanding of structures and architectural abilities are reflected through the arrangement, slowly increasing to ecstasy.

“Kryptonite” scores with alien soundscapes. Stuttering vocals are the questions, while futuristic and dramatic chord stabs are the direct answer. A straight, radiant sound appears as an electronic trombone from outer space, offensively supporting the driving bassline. The symbiotic interplay between the euphoric synthesizer hook line and the relentless beat with pushing sharp hi-hats visualize powerful images in one's mind's eye. Suddenly the beat stagnates and results in a morphing break going head over heels developing a start-stop pitch effect that not only builds up tremendous tension but also bears an increased risk of melting your brain. We just love tape delay!

Freedom is both an integral and multi-layered topic for improvised music, describing its mechanics, aesthetics, and values and often an underlying political dimension as well. In the case of free jazz specifically, the word carries additional weight given the music's deep connection to the black liberation movement of the 1960's and 70's.

The passionate and unclassifiable work of Calgary-based improviser Jairus Sharif embraces each of these definitions of freedom and others, albeit strictly on its own personal and idiosyncratic terms. Since early 2020, the 34 year-old autodidact has been generating a steady stream of homespun solo recordings that forge unprecedented connections between hip-hop abstraction, cosmic skronk, outsider jazz, and staunch post-punk DIY ethos.

Leading up to the pandemic, Sharif's immersion in spiritual and exploratory jazz had culminated in him deciding to purchase an alto saxophone. Unbeknownst to him this instrument would be a catalyst for him to discover his own ardently individualistic artistic voice.

Prior to that point, he had always been somewhat of a solitary musical traveler. In 2002, he acquired his first instrument—a pair of Technics 1200s — but struggled to find local collaborators that had equal investment in hip hop culture. Ultimately, Sharif picked up the guitar, turning to the resilient local punk community, that had also nurtured both of his mothers some time earlier.

As Black Lives Matter gained momentum in the wake of George Floyd's murder, Sharif was suddenly flooded with an acute awareness of his own identity. It compelled him to zealously plunge headlong into open-ended spontaneous solo creation. Water & Tools, his strange and stirring debut for Toronto's Telephone Explosion Records (home to full-lengths from the likes of Brodie West's Eucalyptus, Mas Aya, and Joseph Shabason), offers a glimpse into this ongoing hermetic journey.

As Sharif dedicated himself to uncovering his own deeper musical truths, he assembled a home studio in his basement, cobbling together a drum kit from bits his bandmate had left at his house pre-pandemic, chaining effects together and outfitting the entire space with microphones. Somewhere between the chaos of child's treehouse and the tidy import of a shrine, this space (pictured on the album's back cover) consecrated his own imagination. He laid it out to maximize access to any and every tool in his arsenal, providing him a freedom to explore that he had never permitted himself to consummate before.

Within this cozy private universe, his recent purchase—the saxophone—assumed new meaning. It furnished a tangible connection to the black radicalism that mobilized free jazz, but also something far more personal. From a technical standpoint, the instrument was completely unfamiliar to him, yet rather than this being a hindrance to Sharif, his inexperience opened fruitful path forward, unencumbered by preconceptions. Resolving to shirk formal training, convention, and build his own understanding of it from scratch, allowed him to access his most raw, fundamental creative impulses. The Saxophone's inseverable bond with breath compounded this effect, echoing revelatory discoveries he had been making about breathing through yoga, research, and psychotherapy. Of course, the parallels with BLM's harrowing rallying cry—“I can't breathe”—were not lost on him either.

Water & Tools is a dense, contradictory statement with a blustery surface that shelters a soulful heart. It's generous music, exuding profound vulnerability—grappling with the loss of one his mothers, Lisa—all the while brimming with electric wide-eyed wonder. Almost every one of the nine pieces seems to carry some semblance of a groove, while remaining completely untethered from pulse. For Sharif, this collection is an expression of newfound lucidity, however for the listener his sonic concoctions act as powerful psychotropics. At points, there's a timelessness that's conveyed through the music's processional, ritualistic tenor, and yet there's an endless amount of wild, futuristic detail waiting to unspool at any given moment. Similarly, while this recording emerges from Sharif's private pilgrimage and personal emancipation, he also leaves room for collaboration. Woven throughout Sharif's one-man-ensemble textures, one finds Maxmilian Turnbull (of Badge Epoque, U.S. Girls, and Cosmic Range infamy) providing sundry keyboards and treatments, as well as his mixing skills.

Whether conjuring effusive psychedelia or plumbing introspective depths, the music that Jairus Sharif produces is singular, visceral, and wondrously unpredictable. Water & Tools sketches a raw, firsthand account of his nascent explorations within his own unbridled imagination.

Rome’s own disco wizard L.U.C.A. aka Francesco De Bellis is back for his second LP Terra, hot on the heels of his Venus 12” EP earlier this year. In this far-reaching album, the Edizioni Mondo founder explores the deteriorating relationship between Man and Nature, and the dire consequences. The album is split into two themes - part one is Consacrazione (Consecration) and side two is Coscienza (Conscience) - as L.U.C.A. charts a trip through mankind’s psychic universe, and imagines worlds beyond our physical dimension.

The opening composition Cities is an uptempo number that slowly comes into focus, as dreamy drum machines emerge from the urban bustle, before settling into a soulful groove as keyboard, upright bass and guitar figures dance across bright percussion. As it builds up a head of steam, the piece gives way to an ambient, tribal breakdown, which is also echoed in the following song, Drum Talk. This second tune sets up in a fourth world dreamscape of drums, synths, and abstracted echo effects, and is peppered with word fragments from the bush of ghosts. By the time we’ve reached the third track, Congiunzione sounds like travelling at singularity speed, beaming in from a future where human consciousness and gaia can finally dance on a cosmic plain.

Part two of Terra details how revelation of the spirit can guide the mind, as Time Spirals rises out of a drum motif with a nod to classic ragas, as a disembodied voice asks questions on the nature of corporeality. The sound design is just as front and centre as the sitar and fretless bass, and the song gives way to a richly-layered soup that sounds like the vast space between atoms. It’s this shift from composition to ambience that is the dynamic core of Terra, giving L.U.C.A. plenty of space to showcase his next-level audio and arranging skills. Midway through part two, Giallo Assoluto begins with reverb tails and choral voices before expanding in brightness and texture until the audio field is practically levitating your hi-fi speakers, vibrating them with drones, twinkling keys and shards of digital noise. The closing composition Ritorno al Domani is a perfect balance of optimism and mystery. Tension and release collapse in on themselves as waves of ambient pads crescendo and then break over stretched-out sonic turbulence, before reversed synths bring the listener to a closing door, and the end of the journey.

It’s a mind-expanding musical exploration of other worlds and parallel universes which are surely all around us, and in many ways serve to remind us of the marvel that is our own planet.

Following hot on the heels of lead single and recent mind-body tantalizer “I Feel Stronger Now,” we are now truly proud to present you with Portable’s latest full-length My Sentient Shadow. Filled to the brim with all of the inventiveness the sonic auteur has commanded we expect from his sizable and consistent body of work on worldrenown labels such as Perlon, ~scape, !K7, and his own Süd Electronic and Khoikhoi imprints, and dare we say offering us perhaps the most cohesive, emotive, and balanced of his highly-admirable catalog here to date. By using the analogy of a shadow that possesses its own consciousness, the theme of light and its distortion vs balance with the inherent and necessary darkness that surrounds it is in clear vision.
Immediately from the warmly bizarre vibes of opening cut “The Simulacrum”, it’s clear Portable is requesting clearance to other worlds of funk and ingenuity. The delightfully trippy, smoky, back-room of the Tattooine Cantina feel sets the stage just right to curb expectations and let the carefully constructed noise movements wash over us.
Elsewhere amongst the generous set we find tracks like “Cages” and “Ripple Effect” continue in the direction of horizontally-maximized aural tapestries oozing with texture, while at the other end of the energy spectrum pieces such as “The Self-Assembling” and “We Exist..” roll and bounce with all the sci-fi gyrations and slick synth layers hinting at a hypnotic halfway rendezvous point to his Bodycode moniker. And of course, no proper Portable outing would be complete without his own robust tenor vocal tone, which feels right at home front-and-center on the space travel anthem “The Spacetime Curvature” and used in more calculated micro-doses on “Analogue World”, as well as the gorgeous “Foreign to You” whose meta-title features a rare guest starring vocalist NiQ.E, and brings to hearts some of Herbert’s finer moments with dear friend Dani Siciliano, albeit done-up entirely in some distant yet alluring parallel dimension. The LP journey finishes with the frenetically-charged closer “Fractal Distortion” which will no doubt please many-a cosmic techno purist while making percussion masters from the afterlife such as Jaki Liebezeit and Tony Allen proud, and is quite possibly the closest thing to a danceable musical take on the current state of cognitive dissonance in the world that surrounds us, offering us a one-way
ticket out from the not-too-distant future. Please join us in welcoming and celebrating this wonderful album from Portable on Circus Company.

We used to enjoy presenting Chapelier Fou's work using the idea of music in the form of a treasure hunt. However, while the phrase in itself it still just as relevant today, we would never have imagined that it would become such an integral part of one of his albums. Or two of his albums to be perfectly exact - Méridiens and Parallèles. Two records with twelve songs each which answer each other back in the form of anagrams. They are like the two sides of the same planet - similar but simultaneously so different. They need to be discovered one after the other taking the time necessary to travel through the sound territories produced by his imagination. The starting point is a sombre night in Uqbar… Chapelier Fou's opening reference to Borgès was obviously not made by chance. He subsequently confided in us the objective of his diptych, namely to combine reality with fiction to question certainties and our relationships with the imaginary sphere. He has continued with his traditional classical-contemporary electronic approach which, although now known to a wide audience, has the advantage of opening up a whole range of possibilities right up to the infinite scale. Moving away from an "État Nain" (Dwarf State) to take refuge on an asteroid...Throughout Méridiens, each composition can be seen as a universe in itself or a specific landscape with its own temporality. Proof of this is the introduction to the chamber music format composed for and performed by only strings which can only be given the date we want to give it. This is "État Nain" in which violins are played like guitars. In some parts we find the spirit of the Penguin Cafe Orchestra and the idea of cheering up classical instruments and not taking everything too seriously. In other parts, we find something close to a mischievous and childish unplugged grunge anthem that could be from the French series Les Shadoks. This mischievous view of things is shown to full effect in Am Scharchtensee. The introduction shows Chapelier Fou's whole classical universe and mastery of orchestration in which "modular" electronics provide a subtle and discreet backdrop. Then, the record suddenly switches to a surrealist dialogue between these classical sounds and modular synthesizers with the flavour of the German pioneers Kluster/Harmonia to name but one example. Timelessness and imaginary places. La vie de cocagne confirms this choice of total freedom. It's traditional music with old sounds, a kind of forgotten bourrée (old French dance) in which electronic sounds disturb the established order and thus reach another musical dimension. Le méridien du Péricarde followed by Désert de Sonora push this idea of a trompe l'oreille and a hall of mirrors even further. The latter track ends almost like a catchy 80s melody and we can no longer find any logical meaning. We let ourselves be carried away by this profusion of madness and are a little amazed by this mastery of sound, composition and space. It sometimes all seems like a succession of conjuring tricks. Chapelier Fou takes not being serious very seriously indeed. The end song Everest trail is the perfect conclusion, a deadpan track in which the primary aspect of a totally classical melody in all its straightness is underpinned by a permanent exchange of electronic tweets which mocks the main musical posture. This impertinence harks back to Pierre Schaeffer who directed the ORTF's very serious experimental department in another era and allowed the development of Jacques Rouxel's series Les Shadoks thus introducing the general public to the notion of concrete music. This is also perhaps why Louis Warynski's stage name is French – because he has opted to use his French musical heritage. Thus the first singles selected from this album, Constantinople with its groovy and jazzy allure and Le Triangle des Bermudes evoke composers like Michel Magne or Michel Colombier both of whom have totally open minds and consider all music to have the same importance, namely that of sound. In absolutely all the tracks that make up Méridiens, you will find at least one detail - a pattern, melody, sometimes a simple sound - that will draw you back to explore it a little more. And the words are carefully weighed for sure. It's quite simple. This is undoubtedly his most hypnotizing and catchy album. Chapelier Fou has become a complete master of his own universe. He draws the start and finish lines himself and no one can follow him in a field that now belongs to him alone. Composed imaginary spheres, illustrated territories...Music is just as meaningful as the more visual arts. Therefore the artwork of Méridiens had to project each of the twelve tracks considered individually and not just the whole album as such. Chapelier Fou therefore asked his old friend the contemporary artist Corentin Grossman to create twelve windows to represent glimpses of the twelve worlds composed for the record. Windows or mirrors when it comes to that? You can never be sure of anything...Space OK. But what about time? The years go by and sometimes we forget that fact. But a simple glance back is often enough to gently touch the time that has passed. It is over 10 years since his first official record and he has been composing, recording and sharing his music for almost 20 years. 20 years is a long time. It makes some people look old while others fall into reassuring but sterile nostalgia. Chapelier Fou, on the other hand, has released his most ambitious project and tried to take a higher view of his discography that was itself nevertheless irreproachable. Although the journey is over we can see Parallèles universes on the horizon. Chapelier Fou has announced 12 additional tracks which are like echoes of the compositions on Méridiens' and will be released on the album Parallèles next spring. They are neither twins nor opposites – they are instead totally original new compositions which go further in exploring a universe which is already richly abundant.

After the exploration of snowy mountains of Alpestres, released on Hands in the Dark in 2018, French composer Matthias Puech ventures into new territories, sketching a cartography of the invisible where the journey, in chiaroscuro, is announced as a rite of passage. A Geography of Absence, as introspective as unpredictable, immerses the listener into a unique sensory whirlwind where organic matter becomes almost palpable. A researcher in theoretical computer science and an engineer at GRM, Matthias Puech constructs a dialog between synthetic music and field recording, capturing sounds that surround him and creating his own sonic language with the help of synthesizers he designs and develops; notably the Oscillator Ensemble and the Tapographic Delay, made by the American company 4ms.

Composed during a moment marked by ordeal and mourning, A Geography of Absence retraces an inner journey where the physicality of sound leads the listener into an initiatory tunnel filled with apparitions, ghosts, visions. With sound oscillations as a navigational map, we progress, step by step, through the meanders of an unknown world, dazzled by the prospect of a new synthetic horizon, an electronic biotope teeming with life and incarnations. Playing with time, space and matter in an approach similar to that of musique concrète, Matthias Puech combines ambient and noise, floating sounds and electroacoustic experimentations, thus shaking up our listening perspective, which finds itself walking through a parallel universe, strata after strata, sequence after sequence.

The trip begins with “Hollow”, as if on board a night train travelling at full speed through ghost towns. Or is it a spaceship? Removed from their original habitat, sounds – picked up during walks or moduled by synths – are free to be interpreted differently by everyone, according to the memories that shape us. Granular and metallic, this first piece takes us to an elsewhere in orbit. "Work Song" is built around the pulsation of the void, of space, where strange creatures and liquid emanations abound. We become fetus, cocoon coiled in the placenta, heart beating to the rhythm of the gooey choreography of the human body. "Chrysalis" awakens the racket that lies dormant in us, when the skin changes, when the transition takes place. One seems to recognize certain sounds stemming from nature but they could also be mirages, imitating reality to render the barely perceptible engulfing. “Tunnel Vision” brings out a herd of haunted bells, slowly swelling in a pastoral maelstrom, ending in a deafening buzz. Further on, the chirping of an animatronic bird mixes with the hooting of an owl: "A Faint Beacon" invokes a nocturnal vigil that mixes the crackling of a fire and icy gusts of wind blowing everything away. Like an epic, sucking the listener into the breach of a black hole in the center of the Milky Way, it's up to "Homeostasis" to conclude in the high spheres and contemplative vapors, where the balance of dawn announces a rebirth.

A Geography of Absence is a meticulous and sensitive piece that constructs a delicate symphony of extremes, between introspection and desire for the unknown. Accompanied by the ink work of the artist Léa Neuville, whose folds of prints sketch this imaginary atlas, Matthias Puech becomes a narrator of mental adventures. And succeeds once again in transcending reality to dig a path to the unspeakable.

Ready for an adventure running parallel to their lives in common units, the quartet boarded a starship
to set off on an astral expedition. The mission began perfectly, according to plan. From the very first
measures, the travellers were released from the Earth's gravity. Very quickly, their home planet
appeared tiny and distant, before disappearing completely. Comets and novae lit the way through the
fathomless depths of interstellar space. Their preliminary, in-depth studies of seventies jazz-funk
were a great source of inspiration. Very early on, they knew that this sonic esthetic would allow them
to travel even farther, navigating only with organic instruments and no digital backing or
enhancements.
Commander Virgile Raffaëlli's bass lines guided their journey, offering a calm, yet vibrant foundation
for the smoother phases and turning up the power to bring them through turbulence and meteor
showers safe and sound. Like a compass, the bass indicated the direction and traced a groove that
the loyal, valued crew could follow as their travels continued. Mathieu Edouard's drums solidly
locked down the rhythm to avoid any sudden jolts, working in tandem with Erwan Loeffel's jetpropelled percussion. On the keyboards, Florian Pellissier drew harmonies and riffs from the
synthesizers and electric pianos to oil the machinery and lighten the load when the ensemble needed
to rise a few feet. The crew's almost telepathic cohesion was key to their success, allowing them to
express interior emotions with just a few notes.
Here is the last transmission we received:
"We have landed on an unknown planet and are depressurizing the airlock with help from subtle
horns and ethereal choruses so we can discover the new horizon. It definitely meets our
expectations! The desert before us holds the promise of new life. The warm yet fresh air is easy to
breathe. A vague psychedelic scent floats through the atmosphere, as if ready to spring from the first
flower to bloom. Dreamlike, mysterious, enigmatic yet familiar, we will call it Aldorande."