The post-industrial expansion that Olivier Bernard Egli draws from his music machines pierces through Earth’s crust.
Arcane noises that coalesce and captivate the senses
There’s something harsh yet soothing about Nothing, Nothing—NUNDALE’s latest half-dozen slices of sonic artillery. The post-industrial expansion that Olivier Bernard Egli draws from his music machines pierces through Earth’s crust. As dark electrical corridors are both corrosive and contagious, creative and caliginous, “Too Much Said” opens the proceedings with slow-motion synths and chiseled beats as “Playing God” shatters similar strands. Broken rhythms churn recalling shadows of earlier-era Gridlock and Architect; carefully appearing and disappearing. It’s an unraveling mechanical beast of sound.
NUNDALE’s distinctive industrial-stretching wastelands are at Nothing, Nothing‘s core. “Hands” makes this point more apparent when eerie mechanical pulses migrate and shift their way through. It’s as if NUNDALE has opened a gateway to a whole other spectrum; carefully articulating arcane noises that coalesce and captivate the senses with meticulous layering.
Leaning on roughened charcoal electronics, “Ove Tenebrae” provides just enough spatial awareness as ethereal and blurry voices slide through. On the penultimate track “Born Alone” and closing title track, NUNDALE finds comfort in crawling industrial deformation and heavy percussive echoes—offering the listener a panoramic view of dithered landscapes and nostalgic rhythms. While textured and compelling, the liner notes accurately state that the artist has transitioned into “a new chapter that takes him back to his more melodic downtempo roots with heavier rhythms and more washed-out hook lines.” We’re onboard and anxiously await more.
Nothing, Nothing is available on Errorgrid. [Bandcamp]
