A massive, constantly expanding, throbbing brain that flickers through roughened Autechrean terrain and breaks up into hundreds of fragments as it passes into the subconscious.
A stark and perplexing venture
It is always an exploratory trip listening to exm’s (actual name Jeroen Bax) otherworldly, glitch-infused, and time-stretched electronic soundscapes. The density of his sonic creations and “weirdly beautiful” experimental music seems to have taken him back to the early days of electronic music when pioneers like Karlheinz Stockhausen, Wendy Carlos, Morton Subotnick, and Pierre Schaeffer created surreal extraterrestrial electronic compositions. By feeding these compositions through a wormhole that connects two places in our universe that are light-years apart, exm seamlessly cuts time travel.
Completing this feat in a 29-minute audio work that is incredibly compressed, Bax’s ebb and flow between ambient glitch morels, clipped voice cuts, rich atmospheric beats, crunched electrical sandstorms, and the soundtrack to lost planets is mind bending. This lengthy work, known as “that little one in the corner,” is a stark and perplexing venture that hardly feels “little” at all. Instead, it’s a massive, constantly expanding, throbbing brain that flickers through roughened Autechrean terrain and breaks up into hundreds of fragments as it passes into the subconscious.
that little one in the corner is available on Waxing Crescent. [Bandcamp]
