As sound, it is disfunctioning machine whirr and radio-wave disfrequency traveling through non-place urban realms, but it plays out as meticulously composed and dramatically narrative as an Italian opera, with a frankly uplifting grand finale.
[Release page] A mysterious collective with members based in London, Oxfordshire, Paris and ”beyond,” some of whom wish to remain nameless, which for this release is represented by an unidentified duo. There is some connection, and a definitive affinity, with Mordant Music and manifest signs of an art-school background. Named—I’m guessing—for a renowned Birmingham fountain pen manufacturer. With its hand sprayed logo and handmade paper insert featuring murky Polaroid reprints, it quite seamlessly combines do-it-yourself simplicity with exquisite quality.
Although presented as six tracks, Dromstbles plays as a single, unscrolling palimpsest, words written in the bumpy air over other, erased words, eradicated stories. Perhaps the obscured stories are the titles of the six tracks—”St. Anthony’s Fire,” “The Latticework of Cellular Wisdom,” “The Other Side of the Underneath.” As sound, it is disfunctioning machine whirr and radio-wave disfrequency traveling through non-place urban realms, but it plays out as meticulously composed and dramatically narrative as an Italian opera, with a frankly uplifting grand finale. It wants you to feel the dark but is too electric not to light up bright.
Dromstbles is available here.
