Experimental Electronic Music
Beyond Fine Lines belongs to that line of works that ask for trust. It should be received in half light, at the right volume, allowing the frequencies to work upon the body. Its intensity grows through sedimentation. Each listening opens new folds: a frequency that first escaped notice, a held breath, a sudden accent, a harmonic current crossing the sound field like an omen.
Concealed Under A Strange Tongue suggests an elegant, diversified, and pleasant listening experience where meandering emotional chords meet spacious ambient electronica, processed field recordings, occasional sampled voice elements with a near new-age tone, and a neo-psychedelic/cosmic Americana feeling (for the sunlit psych-country-esque guitar sequences), along with near Steve Tibbetts-influenced mystic grooves.
Following chilling mysteries emerging from Arctic expeditions and unveiling the metaphysical strength captured in ice-cold landscapes, the droning sound art project Netherworld (alias Alessandro Tedeschi, founder of Glacial Movements Records) is back to the forefront.
Ouroboros emerges as a fully realized assembly of extraterrestrial circuitry, endlessly bent, folded, and reconfigured into excitingly unique forms.
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.
RL Huber of Eureka Springs, Arkansas has an orchestral sound, with abundant strings and pianos, and a classical-drone crossover feeling that is complex and subtle.
Operating as Simon Pyke (aka Freeform) and various collaborative ventures, unveils Drift Works—twelve fractured post-ambient sketches unfolding in slow, seamless disintegration.
The nostalgia embedded within Nothing Under Heaven is particularly striking. It is not tied to any singular past, nor does it lean on sentimentality. Instead, it manifests as a kind of emotional afterimage. A sense of having felt something deeply without being able to fully recall its shape. This gives the music a haunting familiarity, as though it is reflecting something the listener already carries but has not yet named.
Grounded in an innate sense of utter realness, Not That Special communicates through suggestion and imagined triggers, illuminating the edges of the present moment. It leaves a subtle but lasting impression—an ambient salve for the harms of modern urban acceleration, and a work that lingers long after its final note.
Alan Myson’s carved out his own corner, one where rhythm is secondary to texture, and where live instrumentation gets processed into something unrecognizable but still visceral. This is music that feels carved and three-dimensional, like the press notes say, but it’s also restless and uncomfortable in a way that keeps you engaged. It’s not an easy listen, but it’s a rewarding one.
Once voiced by Mason, water becomes both storyteller and observer—flowing through calm, chaos, evaporation, and return. Around this, A-Sun Amissa builds a rich soundscape using drone, classical instruments, processed guitars, synthesizers, and subtle samples.
