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.
Suche:the apparitions
Marcus Schmickler's music is designed for multi-channel sound projections and references German electronic music tradition, spectral music, experimentalism as well as 1990s club music. His artistic practice explores avant-garde trajectories in electronic music composition, formal systems, sonification and psychoacoustics. EMEGO 296 features two new major works from this audacious sound explorer.
Sky Dice / Mapping the Studio premiered at Donaueschinger Tage fur Neue Musik 10.20.2018 having being commissioned by SWR and realized at the Experimentalstudio (EXP) in Freiburg. This is a work for ARP 2500, Publison DHM89B, Publison Infernal Machine and Computer. Taking cues from Bruce Nauman's Mapping the Studio I (Fat Chance John Cage) (2001) the piece draws a fragmented acoustic map of the SWR facility itself; the studio serves as a source-model for the sonic display of historical signal flow graphs. Various acoustic and psychoacoustic effects come into play including the Larsen effect, as well as Style Transfer and Topological Sonification. The result is a daring and dizzying display of disorientating audio. Sound moves in most unusual ways, rising and falling simultaneously, appearing and disappearing like apparitions, nothing here behaves in expected ways. To paraphrase Albert Einstein's now famous quote regarding quantum mechanics, this is spooky audio at a distance.
Fortuna Ribbon is a selection of sonic material that emerged from a research based on how DPOAEs (Distortion Product Otoacoustic Emission) can be designed in the context of musical frameworks, augmenting the compositional pallets in regard to spatial hearing. In this manifestation, the materials are presented without context. The resulting emissions from the ear that are excited in varying ways from the 6 examples on display here. Playback in undisturbed acoustic environments is recommended at >82 dB/A.
Schmickler's ongoing investigation of sound matter conjures impossible audio that delight's in the extremity of form and resulting effects on the listener. Schmickler's audio invocations explore the capabilities of contemporary technology resulting in dizzying new worlds of sound.
Thanks to the Experimentalstudio crew, Detlef Heusinger, Björn Gottstein, Julian Rohrhuber and Peter Rehberg.
La Morte Viene Dallo Spazio (Death Comes From Space)’s name is taken from an a late 50s Italian sci-fi b-movie, and this ensemble’s cinematic odyssey of sound is like Argento, Fulci and Bava taking acid with Magma and Jodorowsky. A solid departure from anything you will be listening to right now, La Morte Viene Dallo Spazio’s free-form journeys leave you in unknown astral territory and bake your brain. Composed of an open gathering of players, the Italian quintet combines flavours of Middle Eastern scales, droning theremin and guitars. Their flute-player’s frantic, progressive and abstract elements tear open the cosmic gates like Jethro Tull in a Giallo nightmare. The first album, ‘Sky Over Giza’, released in 2018, was a synth laden soundscape full of ancient mysticism and alien apparitions which gained them a rabid following in their home country of Italy and beyond. La Morte Viene Dallo Spazio’s second album on Svart Records; ‘Trivial Visions’, is a wholly unique experience. An enthralling listen in a confluence of sound and ritual atmospheres that craft a both vibrant and hypnotic effect with nods to black metal and extreme ends of the sound spectrum. This vivid, dreamy and cosmic material will transfer the listener to vast sonic dimensions where one could easily lose the way back to reality. Is this Jazz, Stoner-Rock, Psych-Rock or Progressive Rock? This is La Morte DalloS pazio and they’re in a universe of their own. Start receiving your deathly visions when the new album drops via Svart Records on the 26th of March 2021.
Angel Tears in Sunlight is Pauline Anna Strom's first album in over thirty years; an assemblage of music that refracts the expansiveness, and minutiae, of imagined realms while embracing the kaleidoscopic echoes of our distant epochs. The capacity to collapse time might elucidate the enigma of Pauline Anna Strom. A mystic force in music, emerging during the dawn of new age as the Trans-Millenia Consort, the pioneering synthesist channelled primordial energies into future-facing sound through a series of full-length releases between 1982 and 1988. Little was known about her, except by a constellation of devoted followers who saw a unique legacy forming amidst the (mostly male) synthesist canon of the time. Following the 2017 release of Trans-Millenia Music, an anthology revitalizing the most evocative parts of Strom's catalog, the Bay Area visionary sensed the universe telling her to return to music. As with her work in the 80s, Angel Tears in Sunlight was composed and recorded in the same San Francisco apartment where Strom has lived for almost four decades in synthesis with her machines and "dinosaurs." Populated by a compact array of modern instruments that streamline the sound of her analog past and her beloved iguanas, Little Soulstice and Ms Huff, the terrarium of her home forms an intimate yet limitless ecosystem that defies the constraints of the outside world. Within this sanctuary, Strom becomes lost in time, drawing on the ancient energies of her inner visions. Her hardware forms the crux of translating these ideas into sound. "It's the only way this stuff can be pulled out of myself, the universe, Little Soulstice, an ammonite_," Strom notes. "It couldn't be done without this machinery, because there's no other way to draw and capture these frequencies into sonic interpretation." Strom's process of recording transient live-takes enriches the mystery of her work. She renders the machinery a composer itself, a cohabitation with a living other. "Many musicians wouldn't go that far because of ego," Strom muses. "The equipment has to become part of you and your creativity. That's how I think it all comes together." Music-making becomes a harmonic language of intuition with an instrument, where Strom cultivates sound for a harvest that defies season. Shaped by circadian contours, Angel Tears in Sunlight is a celestial observatory of earthborn phonic mosaics. Strom uncovers a symbiosis between hardware frequencies and apparitions of nature in the record's arena of organic tones, emulating the melodic pulses of primeval terrain. The album transcends both shadow and light, falling to hushed stretches of sound as if not to awaken antediluvian animals, before soaring through the treetops where ancient skies peer over reptilian traffic and unsparing rains.
The Story Itself
On the 12th of April 1961, Yuri Gagarin was launched into orbit for the first and - so they tell us - the last time. Upon returning to Earth, Yuri became a global hero, travelling the world to tell of his adventure.
Secretly, he was plagued by strange hallucinations and a persistent glow around his vision; a cornucopia of colour in a constant corona. In 1964 - following a silent coup by Leonid Brezhnev - Yuri was banned from embarking on further manned missions into space. At first fearing madness, the cosmonaut came to see these apparitions as a signal, an invitation, a welcoming beacon from a distant lighthouse blinking across the cosmic void.
On the 27th of March 1968, aided by trusted friends within the space program, Yuri Gagarin swapped places with another cosmonaut on a secret test flight and was once more blasted into outer space. Knocked unconscious by the extreme velocity of his experimental craft, Yuri awoke a mere 15 minutes later in view not of the rapidly shrinking Earth, but an entirely alien vista; he was elsewhere...
About Tony Neptune
Tony Neptune is a multi-media persona created by the Leeds-based artist and producer Sam Jefferies who, inspired by the narrative and musical legacies of early Detroit techno culture, aims to tell a complete story for the senses through a combination of image, sound and text. Asa member of the DimensionsDJ Directory three years running, some know Jefferies for his notorious DJ sets—whether he’s playing new wave or booty bass; as Tony Neptune or Yuri; solo or alongside Mark ‘Turbo’ Turner in another peak time marathon b2b, it doesn’t take long for crowds to catch on to his deep knowledge of all things riddled with Hi-Tech Funk and Soul. But this isn’t the only storm he’s cooking up: in his visual work, Jefferies uses oil paint to unveil the surreal and celestial adventures of the original cosmonaut and space pioneer, Yuri Gagarin, capturing every aspect of their dream-like surroundings with an eye devoted to detail and depth. This painting lies at the heart of his debut EP, Reflections on a Daring
J A surfaces on RUBBER with six disorienting wave tracks, reigniting the catalogue after a short hiatus. Crafted by Andrea Noce (Eva Geist, As Longitude) and Jonida Prifti (Acchiappashpirt, Opa Opa), these productions find elegance in their noir aesthetic and sketch-like composition, breathing filmic atmospheres of its creative process and the hedonist self alike. Straying away from the societal drift for efficiency and make belief, this record was produced over a timespan of five years, while shifting between Berlin and Rome. Dancing and loafing, mirrors were splintered and scattered shards reflected a new light. Here, Noce her serpentine sense of melody guides uncharted signatures of reverberating syncopated drums, while soundscapes move in and out as apparitions fogging the mind. The poetic spoken-singing of Prifti subdues the tracks, through a linguistic form where Albanian and Italian intertwine, channeling her scientific field into art. Cleverly processed, the vocals take on many shapes, blurring lines between instrumentation and recognition, creating meaning where language ends.
After several apparitions of the modern electronic scene, Warzou strikes again, here on the Lyon based Mystery Booms Records for a détour dub called "J'irai dormir chez Mouss"! Tripping to a digi-dub exercice with two silent and ritual songs, from aerian flutes to pop arrangements composed with cheap instruments, including an MPC 2000, keyboard Casio VZ-1, Digital Delay and Mother Reverb. Tribute to the old way with this futil contemporary feeling! Expected red eyes' soundboys tunes to play them loud on your system!
Red eyes sound boys from Lyon strike again with this second record from Warzou. After several apparitions on the modern electronic scene, the local producer plays a digi-dub exercice for a detour dub called "J'irai dormir chez Mouss ». Tripping on two quiet and ritual songs, composed with MPC 2000, keyboard Casio VZ-1, digital delay and spring reverb, as the tradition! To play loud on your system!
"The kind of melancholia I'm talking about, by contrast, consists not in giving up on desire, but in refusing to yield. It consists, that is to say, in a refusal to adjust to what current conditions call 'reality' - even if the cost of that refusal is that you feel like an outcast in your own time." (Mark Fisher, Ghosts Of My Life, Zero Books 2014, p. 24) In Ghosts of My Life: Writings on Depression, Hauntology and Lost Futures', the author Mark Fisher outlines - to put it in a big way - a resistant melancholy. This stands in contrast to leftist melancholy resignation', as well as something which Fisher does not talk about: its common masculine counterpart, habitual post-left cynicism - as in seen it all before'. Fisher calls this hauntological melancholy. Haunting, spooks, ghosts and apparitions are an almost constant presence on I Started Wearing Black', the second album by the Cologne-based artist Sonae (pronounced so-nah'). The term hauntology shares a fate with retro-futurism when it comes to inflationary overuse and abuse. It's a conceptual container that looks good and can hold a lot, indeed, too much. Furthermore, hauntology has its peak season behind it, a term on the threshold of its expiration date. Nevertheless, I would like to rehabilitate hauntology and use it properly to characterize I Started Wearing Black', because the term is rarely as compelling to describe music as is the case here. The most recent other example could be Asiatisch' by Fatma Al Qadiri, but with a completely different frame of reference. What are the ghosts of this music It rustles, crackles, ruffles, crunches, rattles, scrapes, sometimes a beat emerges from the constant noise, sometimes an obscure voice mumbles incomprehensibly, sometimes a melancholy piano figure is prevented by this noise from coming too much to the foreground. It definitely is eerie - to bring into play another term used by Fisher in the title of his latest book, The Weird and the Eerie'. In British pop-jargon, eerie first occurred to me more often when referring to particularly leftfield, spooky and... well... ghostly dub, a bass-heavy, echoing noise, from Augustus Pablo to Creation Rebel to Burial. Unlike the Wald & Wagner records by Wolfgang Voigt, Sonae is not a kind of neo-romantic veiling with a tendency for escapist nebula. It is more a noise of latency. The noise signals a latent - not necessarily acute - threat, a latent uneasiness about... yes... about what About a System Immanent Value Defect' That's the name of a track on I Started Wearing Black' where something that sounds like a French Horn (or a foghorn) battles for attention through or against the background noise. An email from Sonae: The piece 'System Immanent Value Defect' should actually be called 'I See Turkey'. I wrote it for my fellow student Elif - she is a pianist and Gezi Park activist from Istanbul. Through her I witnessed the inner conflict and agitation that political circumstances can create: her feelings of guilt when there was an attack, with her safe in Germany as a student, watching the events from afar. It was horrible. When her mother begged her not to come home because she feared for her safety, I felt a cold shiver run down my spine. I started with the piece from this mood, beginning with the piano, then the noise (modulated sinusoidal curves), which reminded me of waves and the then heatedly discussed Mediterranean sea: atmospheric, melancholy motifs. In contrast is the anger, the pressure, represented in corresponding sounds - hopefully audible! - During this time I started to think about world views as they can be found around the globe, in how far they held by societies and their political representation. I realized that I know of no political system that is actually about the people and what would do them good. It's always about positions, power, money. I thought that was a lot more frightening on a global scale than merely viewing Turkey in isolation. That's why the piece is called "System Immanent Value Defect", because our world suffers from precisely that. Everywhere, it's all about the wrong things.' Between the wrong things there are happy moments. In the title track, after 184 seconds of rattling and hissing, a beat is unleashed, like an arrow released from a spanned bow, a beatific relief, if there is such a thing. White Trash Rouge Noir' first meanders along spookily, then after 144 seconds it transforms itself into a distant cousin of Einstu¨rzende Neubauten's Yu¨ Gung', but there is no Big Male Ego to be fed here, and the black in the album title is a completely different type of black from that of the Neubauten. Furthermore, I Started Wearing Black' was finished long before the black dresses were worn at the Golden Globes as a sign of protest against sexual violence. Sonae writes that she herself started wearing black some time ago. Her reasons are so-called personal ones: ... resulting from an individual situation (lovesickness), I started to wear black (gaining weight and feeling ugly).' The political dimension of gaining weight, feeling ugly and therefore dressing in black in I Started Wearing Black' lurks within the noise and never becomes explicit and only rarely manifest - or a manifesto. Sonae writes about the track We Are Here': A piece for minorities... in this case, considering the current pop-feminist discourse, explicitly for women. Female artists have long been saying loud and clear that 'we are here' and 'electronic music is not a boys club!' But this pop-feminist moment should only be seen as one part of the dedication of the piece. It is for minorities, for the oppressed, who didn't belong enough.'
Klaus Walter








