Alan Myson‘s carved out his own corner, one where rhythm is secondary to texture, and where live instrumentation gets processed into something unrecognizable but still visceral. This is music that feels carved and three-dimensional, like the press notes say, but it’s also restless and uncomfortable in a way that keeps you engaged. It’s not an easy listen, but it’s a rewarding one.

Less about impact, more about immersion
Alan Myson has been carving out his own path for nearly two decades now. Starting with dubstep-heavy releases on Planet Mu in the late 2000s, he moved through footwork and juke before hitting a turning point with 2016’s Hollowed — an album that saw him strip away dance music entirely in favor of processed guitar, drones, and cinematic texture. Since then, each release has pushed further into abstraction. Mind Abandon continues that trajectory, but this time Myson‘s working almost entirely away from the computer, leaning on live guitar, hand-played percussion, and his own processed vocals. It’s his most human record yet, even as it remains unmistakably dark.
The album opens with an ambient piece that sets a tone but doesn’t give much away. “The Ice Is Thin” starts quietly and intensifies toward the end, but it’s not the kind of opener that telegraphs what’s coming. Usually, first tracks prepare you for something or at least hint at the album’s direction. This does the opposite. On first listen, I had no real sense of where things were headed. It’s a slow build toward the rest of the tracks, which makes sense given Myson‘s recent tendency to let albums unfold gradually rather than front-load them with hooks or rhythm. After Hollowed deconstructed his sound completely and Bodied leaned into ghostly vocal processing, Mind Abandon feels like another recalibration — less about impact, more about immersion.

“A Hidden Path” starts slow with a beautiful opener. The bass and wind instruments in the intro are lush, almost pastoral, before a sitar-like melody builds up and opens into a hip-hop beat at the 1:32 mark. There’s a Lorn vibe here — that same weighted, noir atmosphere but Myson‘s approach is more textural, less grid-locked. The melodic elements feel like they’re being pulled through layers of reverb and distortion, never quite settling. It’s dark and vibey without tipping into overly dramatic territory. You can hear traces of mid-2000s IDM in the way the melody drifts — something Boards of Canada or even early Lusine might’ve done with organic samples and slow, deliberate pacing.
“Memory Leak” shifts into more rhythm-based territory. The arpeggiated 80s-style pulse gives the track a steady backbone, and while it shares some DNA with “A Hidden Path,” the drums here are thicker and heavier. It’s Myson‘s way of building the album up incrementally. The emotional weight is there, but it’s restrained, nothing too intense, just a steady pull forward. It’s a transitional track, and it works.
“Killswitch” takes things to another level. The drums are distorted and glitched, bouncing heavy with delayed tube effects that sound great on a proper system. The pauses on the track are intentional and well-placed. Pauses like these aren’t just structural – they’re about anticipation, the tension between sound and silence. Producers use them to reset the listener’s expectation, to make the next hit land harder. Whether it’s intentional or intuitive, it works. Myson lets the track breathe, then hits you with rhythm just when the silence starts to feel uncomfortable. This wasn’t meant to sound pretty. It’s the most menacing track on the album, and it doesn’t let up.
A unique and emotional ride ::
“Undertow” is another harsher track, but it has a unique rhythm that never quite locks in. It feels like it’s searching for a groove but never settles, and the ending leaves you in a kind of unresolved state. There’s something unsettling about tracks that refuse to resolve, and Myson seems comfortable leaving things open-ended here. “Misted,” on the other hand, pulls back. It’s one of the softer tracks on the release, built around a guitar riff that’s subtle and unrushed. The track doesn’t demand much from you, it just exists in its own space, which is a nice contrast after the intensity of “Killswitch” and “Undertow.”
“The Pull” closes things out and shares some tonal similarities with “Memory Leak,” but this one plays with dynamics more. There’s a fun little sfx threading through the track, hard to make out exactly what it is, but it sounds like a lofi ring-modulated vocal chop or a heavily degraded sample. It’s unsettling in the best way. Myson places it sparingly, letting it peek through at different points, and it brings a lot of character to the track. There’s a lot of degraded sound design here — filtered noise, pitch-shifted artifacts, things that sound like they’re barely holding together. That’s what made the track stick with me. It’s a fitting outro, leaving the album on an unresolved, slightly ominous note.
Overall, Mind Abandon is a unique and emotional ride, but it’s deeply dark. Nothing on Planet Mu‘s current roster really compares to it. The label’s been home to footwork innovators, bass music deconstructionists, and leftfield experimentalists, but Myson‘s carved out his own corner, one where rhythm is secondary to texture, and where live instrumentation gets processed into something unrecognizable but still visceral. This is music that feels carved and three-dimensional, like the press notes say, but it’s also restless and uncomfortable in a way that keeps you engaged. It’s not an easy listen, but it’s a rewarding one.
Mind Abandon is available May 15, 2026 on Planet Mu. [Bandcamp]

















![Boards of Canada :: Inferno (Warp) — [Hypothesis]](https://igloomag.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2026/04/boards-of-canada-inferno-hexagon_feat-75x75.jpg)


![Dragon :: Interlinked EP (Ryu) — [concise]](https://igloomag.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2026/04/dragon-interlinked_feat-75x75.jpg)



