This is music for beachcombing as the coastline gradually recedes and our cities and towns join the life of the sea.
![](https://igloomag.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2024/08/dorosoto-liquid-coast.jpg)
A sonar blast that reverberates and ripples towards the shore
Dorosoto delivers somnolent sonics that burble like a choir inside the church of latter day dub. The three tracks on the Liquid Coast EP embrace the concept of fluid motion, and he employs a liquid-form sound palette that spills like dark colored wine into the air, leaving audio stains on everything it touches.
The first track, “Submerged Columns Dub” sparks memories of the J.G. Ballard novel, The Drowned World, set on an Earth changed by rising oceans and sea levels, engulfing former cities and turning them into tropical lagoons. The sounds of distant radio waves transmit at intervals throughout this piece, a sonar blast that reverberates and ripples towards the shore where I stare at the ruined buildings below.
Funky syncopations, digital detritus and microscopic plops zoom in a plethora of oceanic lifeforms swimming amidst delectable bleeps and beats on “Lowlights.” Here the fluid sounds turn into the patter of drums beating slowly against the mind. They ripple out into a widening circle of interference patterns, crossing each other at intervals before fading into a magical calm.
On the title track in this trio of cyberdelia, abstract noise-color warps through the audio field in a slush of ebbing surf, seagulls and ocean sounds coughing up swathes of drifting downtempo beats, tinkling wind chimes and bells. Bubbles of musical air modulate upwards in gentle sculptural moments that bristle around me. This is music for beachcombing as the coastline gradually recedes and our cities and towns join the life of the sea.
Liquid Coast is available on Bandcamp.