Instead of trying to reinvent the genre, Mullaert and Henriksson disconnect themselves from the shadows of the past, and focus on the present. Whether it’s modern-sounding, or classic warm analog magic, it doesn’t matter to the duo, as long as it feels right and flows effortlessly. This music, like any other kind of good instrumental music, is about ceasing to be and just being, at the same time. Once you submit to it, thoughts cease to exist, there’s nothing but the sounds.
Trance music, real trance music, the kind of which has soul and emits an atmospheric glow, is now a long forgotten art form. Trance music, with all of its subgenres, and global scene, ended up like almost any good thing on this planet ends up, devoured by the dark black cloud of commercialization. Opinions among the dead scene’s veterans regarding when trance has officially died are still divided, but one thing is sure: it has been dead for a long time. These days every kid with a midi keyboard, synth, laptop and a couple of monitors, puts a few sounds together and calls it psytrance, dark trance or progressive. Some of these kids even get signed and tour all over the world, playing in those big festivals that have lost the true spirit years ago together with everything else trance. The amount of sonic recycling coming out of the genre’s desolations these days is overwhelming. Even great acts who once carried the torch of trance with a distinctive charm these days sound recycled, uninspired and jaded.
As Son Kite, Sebastian Mullaert and Marcus Henriksson have steadily released music of great psychedelic depth and sophistication over the years. The Son Kite project has never fit the classic trance definition thanks to its eclectic nature. Until this very day Mullaert and Henriksson incorporate elements of techno, progressive, acid, electronica and more in their creations. Son Kite is one of the several acts who always manage to keep the true flame and spirit of trance music alive and kicking while also bringing something fresh into the equation. These are simply two of the few producers out there in the electronic dance music realms who are unaffected by current trends and have the balls to create and release music without thinking whether it will sell or not. Their music flows outside from a sincere place. Fortunately, some record labels are still interested in this kind of music and willing to give it the appropriate conditions for a proper release. It’s been ten years since Mullaert and Henriksson released an album as Son Kite. Now, finally, a new Son Kite album is available for us to experience thanks to the influential Swedish duo’s hard work and the support of Denmark’s long-lasting Iboga Records. Was it worth the wait? It certainly was.
Instead of trying to reinvent the genre, Mullaert and Henriksson disconnect themselves from the shadows of the past, and focus on the present. Whether it’s modern-sounding, or classic warm analog magic, it doesn’t matter to the duo, as long as it feels right and flows effortlessly. This music, like any other kind of good instrumental music, is about ceasing to be and just being, at the same time. Once you submit to it, thoughts cease to exist, there’s nothing but the sounds. Hypnotic and relentless, ruled by the mystical art of repetition, full of subtle yet highly effective maneuvers, Prisma slowly but surely takes hold of the listener. It’s a colorful sonic chameleon, undulating, spiraling and sparkling. Whether through the LP, CD or digital version, for the full experience, Prisma should be consumed as a whole. In a way it’s a carefully crafted live set spiced with studio nuances. The energy is definitely of an adventure, a journey. It feels exactly how a live fluid set should feel.
Mullaert and Henriksson could have released this latest work under their Minilogue alias, from a certain point of view it would have been more appropriate; however, an alias is just an alias. With Prisma, Mullaert and Henriksson, once again, deliver a wonderful thing which is hard to deliver: music suitable for the dance floor (preferably an outdoor one, maybe in a secret glade if possible), but also for intimate deep-dive style home listening. On top of that, the eclectic blend of elements makes Prisma a piece of music that defies the one label categorization. I’m sure these days some of the elders of the tribe out there enjoy this music sitting on their listening armchairs, or while ritualistically dancing to it in the forests during secret elders meetings. And of course, there’s no doubt there’s also a younger crowd out there who longs for this kind of soulful electronic dance music, and keeps going to the festivals and clubs in order to experience Son Kite/Minilogue—one of the very few acts that provide a real trance experience these days—live.
Prisma is out via Iboga and available on CD and Vinyl at Psyshop, and digitally at Beatport.
