Experimental Electronic Music
Osmium is a feral collision of tribal, guttural, thrash, industrial, and grindcore elements—chaotic, hypnotic, and unrelenting. Featuring Hildur Guðnadóttir, Rully Shbara, James Ginzburg, and Sam Slater, it’s a global sonic ritual that feels like a Dionysian descent into madness. Fourth World music for the damned: raw, electrifying, and anything but safe.
Each piece on Unseen Footage stands as a reflection, transmitting an ambient frequency both mournful and illuminating. In charting these aural landscapes, West doesn’t merely score silence or sorrow; he challenges us to listen deeply, to sit with uncomfortable truths, and to recognize patterns we are doomed to repeat unless understood.
Test Dept, pioneers of industrial music’s revolutionary spirit since the 1980s, have partnered with Canadian label Artoffact Records to release curated box sets and a new album in 2026, continuing their legacy of politically charged, boundary-pushing sound and announcing a European tour in late 2025.
Hasbeen’s HAVOC INTVL, released with Clean Error in July 2025, dives into glitchy braindance with shimmering bleeps and fragmented pulses. Each track unfolds as a distinct, cryptic phase, blending mechanized dissonance and delicate melodies into a cohesive, abstract sonic journey.
This uneasy passage through shadow takes gentle hold, offering no easy reassurance. Soft bells, stretched synths, and sandblasted glitch flicker in and out—never quite defined, but carrying a fragile pulse that holds fleeting moments together.
Erratic and unsettling yet undeniably gripping, this set builds upon warped foundations of industrial dub, mutated jungle, and disfigured hip-hop structures. It’s an excavation—reaching backward while marching toward a future of controlled chaos and sculpted dissonance.
Hello Spiral’s Detached Objects (Moonside Tapes) blends noise, dark ambient, computer music, and musique concrète to defy easy categorization. By severing sounds from familiar meanings, it creates an unsettling atmosphere of estrangement, embodying Viktor Shklovsky’s idea of “making the stone stony” and challenging passive listening.
It’s a vortex of unstable harmonics and whispering frequencies, built from minimal static and fractured melodies that seem to constantly evolve, folding in on themselves.
It’s industrial rot turned ritual, where mechanical howls and corrosive tones blur into something akin to musique concrète or audio collage—less composed than unearthed.
A Coruscating Hope bends its structures into semi-familiar dance contours, then dissolves them. It’s here that a subtle storm of grayscale noise and electrical charge animates an intricate, shifting sound world—where experimental electronics meet a shadowy, tactile form of techno.
Rather than relying on brute force, kaoshipnótico crafts dynamic tension across the album’s jagged structure. Found sounds, metallic screeches, circuit-bent textures, and industrial rumble all collide in waves of distortion that suggest both panic and ritual.
