Experimental Electronic Music
Tschernobyl serves as an immersive depiction of such a wasteland and as a medium to cement the band’s feelings regarding the catastrophe. Both the music and the various vocal samples scattered throughout feel incredibly apt for painting images in the listener’s head; a sense of melancholy is sometimes present, while at other times the tracks become rougher and much more industrially influenced.
Across eleven diverse movements, SICK STREET displays rhythmic elasticity, aural sculpting assembled from found sound, cellular technology, environmental residue, postcode mosaics, and a restless multiplicity of influence.
Across its duration, A Wave Of Alarm navigates the long architecture of inner turbulence, invoking something akin to a dark night of the soul: a descent into fertile voids where collapse and liberation begin to mirror one another.
Ouroboros emerges as a fully realized assembly of extraterrestrial circuitry, endlessly bent, folded, and reconfigured into excitingly unique forms.
Across The Dreamers Of Dreams, Bowman detonates maniacal braindance mechanics, electro errorfunk ripped into synthetic ribbons, and a cut-and-paste sampladelia that early Coldcut would likely have fought over releasing.
Air Signs rests at its distinct sound. Everything is pieced together very well, and all the noises, melodies, and synths are family—they all align track after track. Deschamps has a gift for cohesion. Even when he’s working with degraded loops, reversed recordings, and heavily processed guitar, nothing feels fragmented. Everything belongs.
The waters here are torrid. But the result of swimming in them is to emerge somehow richer than before. The sound of subtraction through propulsion: the old and archaic riotously stripped away to leave space for the new. A violent recalibration disguised as transcendence.
This succinct observation offers a glimpse into a language in which Mayer seems uniquely at ease. Through gathering otherworldly effects and artifacts that might otherwise be dismissed as errors, Matters animates unfamiliar forms and hidden possibilities.
Much music is steeped in the history of the place where it was made, and here Jonathan Sharp, the musician behind this project, trawls the borderlands of fiction, imagination, and the real places written about in the Plague Dogs where he went to collect sounds for the album.
In Bernhard Living’s works, there’s almost always a straightforward title to express the context behind each one, and there is always a description paired with the record to fully elaborate on its concept. That ends up making music as minimalistic as this far more interesting to me.
Each chopped rhythm feels tethered by fragile harmonic strands, giving Echoloto its identity as a multidimensional collection of fuzzy glitch-hop abstraction, steeped in grit, grain, and faded sonic residue.
