Poems is another excellent assemblage from Roulette Rekordz, who consistently curate distinctive abstract electro releases.
A brutal trio of sharp machine drums with funk shadows
Inspired by three distinct poems by Anna Akhmatova, Leon Deubel, and Marina Tsvetaeva, Poladroïd (aka Vadim Samoluk) provides a three-track EP that is comparatively short and mastered by the mighty Ben Milstein. Poems is another excellent assemblage from Roulette Rekordz, who consistently curate distinctive abstract electro releases. Beginning with “The Last Toast,” which features darker textured vocals and bleep funk, these classic synths and bass thuds transport us back in time to a bygone era (Le Car, Dopplereffekt). Meanwhile, the standout track “No Obsession Either” features off-center electro-botics and low flying bass pulses that Adult. fans would certainly relate to. Poladroïd’s poetry takes on charcoaled structures with “The Caress,” the closing poem, where piercing laser-beam grooves and industrial sectors are surrounded by rhythmic sonic sandblasting. The outcome is a brutal trio of sharp machine drums with funk shadows looming in the background.
Poems is available on Roulette Rekordz. [Bandcamp]
I like that you are not obsessed with me,
I like that I have no obsession either,
And not for once in the eternity
The heavy earth beneath our feet will wither
I like I can be funny and be free,
Be careless with words and never bother
To be betrayed by tide of blush when we
Brush with our sleeves when passing one another.
I also like that in my company
You’re confident enough to hug the other,
You don’t foretell infernal suffering
To me for being kissed by other lovers.
I also like you never call in vain
The sweet inflection of my name, my sweetie
And that we’ll never live to see the day
When wedding bells hail us with nuptial greetings.
I thank you from the bottom of my heart
For loving me so much quite unawares:
For nightly peace that you will never thwart,
For twilight dates that can not be more scarce,
For moonlight walks that we will never start,
And for the sun above that’ll never wear us,
For you, alas, who’re not obsessed with me,
For me, alas, with no obsession either.
Marina Tsvetaeva
Translated by Dina Belyayeva
