quête:polo route

Fresh Blood straight from NYC, big tip!!

NYC’s underground producer Sweater On Polo back on the machines for the first release on Signal Route. “Mechanical Confusion” favors the techno and basement house approach of early 90’s Chicago innovators found on labels such as Dance Mania, Relief Records, and Saber Records. His style and approach carry a familiar old school angst, creating an intergenerational dialogue between the now and then. Going from acid house, to techno, and then synth punk, this 6 track EP captures the relentless range of the young artist.

For their first album as Gilla Band (formerly Girl Band), the
foursome have redrawn their own paradigm. ‘Most Normal’ is like
little you’ve heard before, a kaleidoscopic spectrum of noise put in
service of broken pop songs, FX-strafed Avant-punk rollercoaster
rides and passages of futurist dancefloor nihilism.
Lockdown robbed Gilla Band of any opportunity to try the new
material out live, but the pandemic also incinerated any idea of a
deadline for the new album. They were free to tinker at leisure, to
rewrite and restructure and reinvent tracks they’d cut, to, as
drummer Adam Faulkner puts it, “pull things apart and be like,
‘Let’s try this. We could try out every wild idea.’”
The group also fell under the spell of modern hip-hop, “where
there’s really heavy-handed production and they’re messing with
the track the whole time,” says Fox. “That felt like a fun route to go
down, it was a definite influence.”
‘Most Normal’ opens with an absolute industrial-noise banger that
sounds like a manic house party throbbing through the walls of the
next room as a downed jetliner brings death from above. What
follows is unpredictable, leading the listener through a sonic house
of mirrors, where the unexpected awaits around every corner.
The common thread holding ‘Most Normal’’s ambitious Avant-pop
shapes together is frontman Dara Kiely. Throughout, he’s an antic,
antagonistic presence, barking wild, hilarious, unsettling spiels,
babbling about smearing fish with lubricant or dressing up in binliners or having to wear hand-me-down bootcut jeans (“It was a
big, shameful thing, growing up, not being able to afford the look I
wanted and having to wear all my brother’s old clothes,” says
Kiely).
‘Most Normal’, then, is a triumph, the bold work of a group who’ve
taken the time to evolve their ideas, to deconstruct and reconstruct
their music and rebuild it into something new, something
challenging and infinitely rewarding. It’s a headphone masterpiece.
It’s a majestic exploration of the infinite possibilities of noise. It’s a
bold riposte to your parochial beliefs on whatever a pop song can
or should be. It’s the best work these musicians have put to
(mangled) tape.

For their first album as Gilla Band (formerly Girl Band), the
foursome have redrawn their own paradigm. ‘Most Normal’ is like
little you’ve heard before, a kaleidoscopic spectrum of noise put in
service of broken pop songs, FX-strafed Avant-punk rollercoaster
rides and passages of futurist dancefloor nihilism.
Lockdown robbed Gilla Band of any opportunity to try the new
material out live, but the pandemic also incinerated any idea of a
deadline for the new album. They were free to tinker at leisure, to
rewrite and restructure and reinvent tracks they’d cut, to, as
drummer Adam Faulkner puts it, “pull things apart and be like,
‘Let’s try this. We could try out every wild idea.’”
The group also fell under the spell of modern hip-hop, “where
there’s really heavy-handed production and they’re messing with
the track the whole time,” says Fox. “That felt like a fun route to go
down, it was a definite influence.”
‘Most Normal’ opens with an absolute industrial-noise banger that
sounds like a manic house party throbbing through the walls of the
next room as a downed jetliner brings death from above. What
follows is unpredictable, leading the listener through a sonic house
of mirrors, where the unexpected awaits around every corner.
The common thread holding ‘Most Normal’’s ambitious Avant-pop
shapes together is frontman Dara Kiely. Throughout, he’s an antic,
antagonistic presence, barking wild, hilarious, unsettling spiels,
babbling about smearing fish with lubricant or dressing up in binliners or having to wear hand-me-down bootcut jeans (“It was a
big, shameful thing, growing up, not being able to afford the look I
wanted and having to wear all my brother’s old clothes,” says
Kiely).
‘Most Normal’, then, is a triumph, the bold work of a group who’ve
taken the time to evolve their ideas, to deconstruct and reconstruct
their music and rebuild it into something new, something
challenging and infinitely rewarding. It’s a headphone masterpiece.
It’s a majestic exploration of the infinite possibilities of noise. It’s a
bold riposte to your parochial beliefs on whatever a pop song can
or should be. It’s the best work these musicians have put to
(mangled) tape.

Full page feature in Wire Magazine (March 2025, Issue 493) 'the freak audio series continues with the lysergic You Didn't Hear It From Me which combines dubbed out sampledelia and metallic beats with ghostly saxophone soaked in an acid bath'

Polonius AKA Egyptian-French artist Seif Gaber, whose works spans a decade of “science fiction archeomiragical time travel" explorations and is an important piece of the healthy electronic/far out mosaic in Milan.

With a considerable number of releases under his name, both self released and through such likeminded labels as Ikuisuus, Goaty Tapes or Sun Araw's Sun Ark, Polonius grand vision encompasses a myriad of languages culled from kosmische travelings, exotica's dreamlands, soundtrack psychedelia, spiritual jazz escape routes and transmuted beat science to convey them into a sonic fiction where all these trails intertwine in a cosmological soundscape filled with wonder and speculation.

Building on last year's more beat-centric excursions of his self-titled vinyl debut on Stoned to Death, Polonius' first entry into the Discrepant extended family via Souk finds him dwelling deeper into rhythmic mystic extrapolations through a series of hallucinatory tracks. Conveying jungle's kinetic energy, dubwise meditations on bass weight, collapsing beats, globetrotting percussion accents and synth-driven night drives, 'You Didn't Hear It From Me' finds Polonius with a strong sense of purpose and direction, reconvening bits and pieces from the netherworld into a more urban scenario, not quite any we can stand or dance on. Just dream of.

Welcome to the curious world of Peter Graf York: a world full of city centre safaris and epic train journeys, Soviet cosmonauts and Oakland rappers, filtered synths and plucked mbiras. It's a wild ride inspired as much by Jamaican dub sorcery as by playful minimalism outta the Pacific Northwest.

Many of these tracks were composed on the hoof - literally en route across sections of the ever-reliable Deutsche Bahn network. As such, there’s a certain travellin-without-moving dynamic across this collection, capturing that cinematic feel of window frames flickering past graffiti'd signal exchanges, morphing into rolling hills and green forests. Expedition Bahn is the sound of ideas being set in motion, each track heralding the arrival of an uncanny destination. Blazed beats give way to acid-fuelled electro, and dub rhythms step aside for 4th world meditations as readily as sleepers on a train track.

We can leave the last word to heroic USSR cosmonaut Vladimir Komarov, who spent the final moments of his fateful re-entry giving the administration an earful of righteous proportions (regarding the technical failures of the spacecraft). Taking his place as the first martyr of space travel, Komarov accepted the Soyuz mission despite safety concerns, in order to protect the other cosmonauts. It's an attitude that echoes throughout PGY’s sonic universe - make the most of the trip you're on... ‘cause you never know just which way it will go.

Gear used: Tascam MIDISTUDIO 644, MPC1000, Roland JX-3P, MODE MACHINES DT200, Electro-Harmonix MEMORY BOY analog delay, Nord Drum 3P, MacBook Pro, Logic Pro 9