Subtle, nuanced, foggy electrical tones evolve and devolve seamlessly, making for a musical foray that is abstract yet moving. Spread over an hour, each musician manipulates brisk beats, bass, and tiny bleeps without over the top experimentation. Along the way, they manage to straddle the lines between soft to medium density electronic music. A culmination of crystalized electrical bits that somehow molt into fragrant instrumental lifeforms.
Here we see four artists from four different coordinates doing what the do best, instrumental/psychedelic hip-hop, downbeat streams and lost soundtracks from the 70s are developed within four parts. What’s interesting about these elongated pieces is that they’ve been part of my background listening for over two months. I keep going back to these four somewhat subliminal tracks, possibly because of their uncluttered organic nature. Subtle, nuanced, foggy electrical tones evolve and devolve seamlessly, making for a musical foray that is abstract yet moving. Spread over an hour, each musician manipulates brisk beats, bass, and tiny bleeps without over the top experimentation. Along the way, they manage to straddle the lines between soft to medium density electronic music.
DSPLAY’s “Part One” steps into a myriad of sound sources, ambient hip-hop, bass-infused shoegaze and sparkling funk rhythms. But just as “Part One” takes flight, it begins a gradual decent through atmospheric vocalized world elements—casual, and drifting, its ebb and flow then transforms into fuzzy kaleidoscopic electronics, bits floating by, DSPLAY delivers a wide angle musical landscape. Rak.’s “Part Two” (aka “cehira cini”) bends and contorts itself through detuned, broken, slow-motion hip-hop beatwork. While Rak. creates extraterrestrial synthesizer simplicity, roughened production, “Part Two” appears to dip into a brisk extended player that fans of early Deceptikon releases might enjoy. Delicate, brittle, and yet with an air of carefully skewed percussion, Rak. is one to look out for. Marjen’s “Part Three” (aka “stress parts 1-11”) is as tranquil as can be. With low-altitude drums, static noises, and under the radar melodies, Marjen switches many lo-fi gears that are almost invisible to the ears. “Part Four” by Noblonski is perhaps the most delicate of the lot, memories of early Secede albums for Sending Orbs and Merck come to mind—timid glitch effects, piano keys, and solemn rhythms for yesteryear. Noblonski also sculpts soundtrack moments midway through “Part Four” where industrial shards are crunched down into minuscule forms. Bells and subdued scratches aplenty, Noblonski’s closing minutes is the highlight, its emotively charged downbeat focus is sublime.
DRMN is a culmination of crystalized electrical bits that somehow molt into fragrant instrumental lifeforms.
DRMN is available on Rakun0.
