This squamous assortment of pinged and panged filters drips with blips as the frequencies throb and slip. This little EP of five songs is perfect for a subwoofer session, i.e., when you need to do a bass test or just feel the explosion of low-end sounds in a swarm of voltaic murmuration.
Electric grids melting down under the power of overloaded sonic vibration
This squamous assortment of pinged and panged filters drips with blips as the frequencies throb and slip. This little EP of five songs is perfect for a subwoofer session, i.e., when you need to do a bass test or just feel the explosion of low-end sounds in a swarm of voltaic murmuration. Trembling waves of imminence gurgle through the studio-sphere, bebopping like latter day electric grids melting down under the power of overloaded sonic vibration. That’s what the first song “Oto” sounds like anyway.
“Go Dot” that follows is the noisy mutant space child that emerges from the studio-sphere covered in blissful bass goop, like an offworld clone decanted from the storage banks in the satellite nebula, the consciousness is frisky and crispy. A fractal swirl starts plinking the speakers with bursts of sonar radiance, as the undulating stochastic circuits go on the fritz.
It all gets beamed down as a telecommunicative fax from a satellite sound system into the middle piece crux of “Cicds.” Trans-terrestrial dub harmonics that percolate in a percussive pitter-patter, in digital centrifuge of beat heavy audio splatter. Fluttering frequencies dance across the networked machines in lucrative cannabinoid cranial connections.
All of this cranial chill lounge music with big bass thwops comes from the brain-mind of Rubén A. Tamayo, who is the person behind these FAX transmissions and Facade Electronics. If you haven’t grokked him already, he’s an artist from Mexicali, Baja California who has been making electronica art music since the early oughts, here in his first outing for Highpoint Lowlife.
The fourth cluster of discrete sounds collected together into a mighty mix of amalgamation is “Isla.” It’s a minimalist chugger on a stripped down dancefloor. This particular flavor of braindub dance candy is effectively metronymic. Sonic entrainment and satisfaction is guaranteed. The slight sidereal synth splashes and tweaks give it a sparkle.
The transformation is complete on “Corp.” Now the mood is buoyant and ebullient as patches pop and single paths ping filters again. It’s the juicy come down phase where lysergic insights make an attempt integration before they disappear once again into more rarified realms of consciousness.
Afar is available on Highpoint Lowlife.
