Pentagrams Of Discordia :: Triskaidekaphobia Extd. (Sounds Of Discordia)

Here, time blurs. Languid pulses, dusky synth-lines, erratic vocal fragments, and serpentine grooves conjure a place half-remembered—at once familiar and untethered, a kind of sonic déjà vu.

Like worn photographs curled at the corners

Pushing aside the inevitable parallels to Sandison and Eoin, Pentagrams of Discordia stands as perhaps the most vivid echo yet of the elusive duo’s prismatic dreamscape—fragmented rhythms, aching melody, and a haunting sense of something long lost. With a modest catalog of releases behind them, POD continues to operate outside traditional constraints, letting each piece unfold across expansive timelines. The latest triptych, Triskaidekaphobia Extd., is no exception, stretching over twenty minutes per track.

Here, time blurs. Languid pulses, dusky synth-lines, erratic vocal fragments, and serpentine grooves conjure a place half-remembered—at once familiar and untethered, a kind of sonic déjà vu. These aren’t just soundtracks; they’re recollections in slow motion: sepia-toned, faded at the edges, yet deeply resonant. As one chapter dissolves into the next, a seamless continuity emerges from within this triad of tonal capsules. The cryptic titles—”<“, “~”, and “}”—hint at an inward journey through murky sound corridors and subtle tonal shifts.

Analog warmth permeates ::

There’s a rawness to the battered percussion and lo-fi haze, like worn photographs curled at the corners. Beneath it all lies a quietly emotional core—moments that swell, crest, and drift in unexpected directions. Analog warmth permeates these cascading sketches, sometimes veiled in shadow, other times illuminated by brighter tones that speak with a kind of gentle clarity—an ode to simplicity wrapped in a complex, evolving shell.

This is memory rendered in sound: decayed, reshaped, and still achingly alive. An ambient downtempo collage from a producer less concerned with genre than with feeling—nostalgia cast in color and rhythm, always moving, never quite arriving. Like a loop stuck on its 13th repeat, it haunts and drifts, refusing to settle.

Triskaidekaphobia Extd. is available on Sounds Of Discordia. [Bandcamp]