Our Daily Bread 589: Exit Rituals ‘Blinding Void’
August 23, 2023
ALBUM REVIEW/ANDREW C. KIDD
Exit Rituals ‘Blinding Void’
(Just Isn’t Music)
Blinding Void (Just Isn’t Music, August 2023) is the collaborative effort of husband and wife, Alan Myson (Ital Tek) and Anneka Warburton. I have previously written about Itak Tek on the Monolith Cocktail, which included a brief overview of his back catalogue: Our Daily Bread 579: Ital Tek ‘Timeproof’ June 22, 2023.
Anneka Warburton has an extensive musical curriculum vitae. She has collaborated with various artists on Mike Paradinas’s Planet Mu label; examples include the track Heart Space on the Vex’d album Cloud Seed (March 2010), the single of Starkey’s Ear Drums and Black Holes LP (April 2010), and my favourite FaltyDL vocal track, the rhythmical Gospel Of Opal on his You Stand Uncertain LP (March 2011). She collaborated with Forest Swords on the tribal track Anneka’s Battle from his lauded Engravings LP (Tri Angle, August 2013). Warburton also collaborated with Myson, featuring on Restless Tundra, the concluding track to Ital Tek’s Midnight Colour LP (Planet Mu, June 2010) – a time when footwork was regal, when bells and hit-hat hits and four-four beats tripped to skip into their next bar. Anneka has an EP to her name: the soulful Life Force (Anti Ghost Moon Ray, April 2017), the fourth track of which was showcased by Mary Anne Hobbs on BBC 6Music in January 2015. Her quasi-baroque experimentations using a Korg Minilogue on the track Burst (self-released, February 2018) confirmed her compositional skill.
We return to August 2023. Alan Myson and Anneka Warburton have collaborated again, this time as Exit Rituals, a group in its own right. Blinding Void opens with Soon Bloom. Sustained glass-shattering synths pierce the headphones; beneath this, the deep sounds of a cello bowing. A three-note pad eventually filters through, its minor melody proliferates, ascending to fuse in unison. Everything eventually exits. Warburton’s vocals are expanded further on A Fluid Portrait. She sings atop a sonic soup which stirs circumspectly. The vocoded vocals double up over an alarm-like synth that keys indistinctly.
A thudding heartbeat rumbles on Dream Canyon. This is not the lub-dub of a mammalian heart. Perhaps the life sounds of an object in the cosmos, or even light? Its reverberated third beat thrums. On the subject of light, this appears in many forms on this track, and the EP more generally: vocals, pushed away into the peripheries, aerate; an occasional electronic flourish tremolos into the distance. As the denouement of Dream Canyon is reached, the heartbeat becomes clearer, less muddy, until suddenly – it cuts out. Treble reigns supreme at this juncture. I am reminded of Björk circa Vulcincura (One Little Independent Records, January 2015).
The double-unison vocals of The Knife play out on The Light. The deep cello sound makes a further appearance. Staccato-synths provide momentary reference. There is no exposition on this track, no coda; rather, it moves seamlessly onto the title track which showcases the vocal talents of Warburton. She sings hazily, wavering even. I imagine her sung voice corresponding to the visible wavelengths of light; drawn out across their electromagnetic spectrum, the sharper frequencies are red, and the quieter violet stretch until they become ultraviolet, and onwards to X-rays. The synths are stripped-back and the bass bright. Everything coalesces.
Warburton’s vocals chop and stutter on Lacerate, helicoptering around to achieve impossible frequencies. In time they descend to merge with the bass-heavy undertones that have rumbled throughout this EP. The concrete synths of Myson begin to pummel the aural cavities of the listener. We are offered only perfunctory light on this track: the slightest of key changes in its very last moments.
Does Blinding Void have a narrative? It has yet to become clear. The highlight? The electro-classical Soon Bloom which mirrors the life-cycle of a flower. And where does this EP stand in the respective output of the couple? The earliest collaboration between Myson and Warburton was on Ital Tek’s 808-driven, sitar-infused dubstep EP, Deep Pools (Square Records, December 2007). The intensity of Weave on that release echoed the likes of Benga and Skream and Shackleton. Their collaboration then was a modern Lamb, of sorts. The respective sounds of Myson and Warburton have travelled a long way since then. With Exit Rituals, they achieve balance. Warburton brings warmth and light and organicity that offsets the machinations of the drum machines and caliginous synthwork of Myson. With Exit Rituals, there is a suggestion of gravity in the deep vacuum of electronica.
Jointly by Andrew C. Kidd and Ross Perry
Black Dog Productions ‘Bytes’ [1993]
The Black Dog ‘Spanners’ [1995]
(Warp Reissues)
Intelligent dance music. IDM. A difficult-to-define genre (if it even was one). Experimentation in dance music? The awkward shoehorning of ambience and danceable music? Flawed nomenclature aside, pinpointing the start of the movement is an even trickier task.
To dance is to move rhythmically. Ussachevsky and Stockhausen were creating electronic music in the 1950s, albeit it is difficult to argue that their creations were ‘danceable’. There are danceable moments on Spiral (Vangelis, 1977) and Équinoxe (Jean-Michel Jarre, 1978). Then there was the electro-pop Kraftwerk and the danceable synth-pop sounds of the likes of OMD, Moroder, Numan and Cabaret Voltaire. Yet, the sound that we most associate with modern-day IDM probably arrived in the very early 1990s. Utd. State 90 by 808 State (ZZT Records, June 1990) is an early example of the abstraction which underpins IDM, albeit that album was palpably more familiar as a resident in acid house. Tricky Disco by Tricky Disco (Warp, July 1990), Frequencies by LFO (Warp, July 1991) and Analogue Bubblebath by Aphex Twin (Mighty Force, September 1991) were IDM pathfinders. The public were probably exposed to IDM through Accelerator by Future Sound of London in April 1992 (released on Jumpin’ & Pumpin’). Warp can take credit for the naming of IDM on the compilation album, Artificial Intelligence, in July 1992.
Bytes (originally released in March 1993) is one of the most influential works in the intelligent dance music scene (it is regarded by some as the seminal work of IDM). The first iteration of the track Clan (Mongol Hordes), the work of I.A.O, an early moniker of Ken Downie (one of three aliases used on Bytes), featured on Warp’s AI compilation. Although Bytes is a compilation album, it has always been more synergistic than that – a musical Megazord of sorts (if such an obviously ‘90s reference can be afforded!). It was the third album in the Artificial Intelligence series and is thirty this year. When it was first released, it was a promise of futurity. Akin to the golden age of science fiction, there was experimentation, and comparatively difficult-to-differentiate narratives – the listener is drawn in and out of various sequences, some real, others fanciful.
There is no doubting the influence of the Detroit techno scene of the mid-1980s and its dramatis personae: the joyful R-Tyme; the villainy of Suburban Knight; the realism of Model 500; and of course, Derrick May. Listen to the analog crunch and pulsing rhythm on the opening Object Orient (Plaid) – two hallmarks of that sub-genre. It railroads through the sonic journey with playfully synthetic melodies, slowing only occasionally for brief vinyl cuts. It is a deconstruction of what preceded it, like time folded up in slow motion. Similarly, the repetitive four-four chops on Merck are akin to a Mayday track; the keys, syncopated at times, improvised later, dance their macabre dance. The Phil 5 interlude that precedes Fight The Hits harkens back to The Art of Stalking by Suburban Knight; the same could also be said for Atypic’s masterpiece Otaku which sadly did not appear on Bytes – this featured on the Black Dog Productions E.P. released in May 1992.
Bytes is fantastically congruous. After Merck (Balil) fires off high-frequency plasma rifle shots in rapid succession, its latter half is mesmeric and glistens into the orchestral opening of Jauqq (Close Up Over)*. As the syncopated rhythm fades, a metallic beat enters, and the sound is progressed. Another fine example of this is Olivine (Close Up Over) – IDM in the definitive sense – and its light synths that dot around the checked squares of some strange sonic chessboard. Here, the rhythm progresses up and down like opposing rooks; the L-shapes of the syncopated synth are warring knights. The lithe ending is regal, and heralds Clan (Mongol Hordes) (I.A.O.)– queenly, like the multidimensional chess piece, it serves to take the rest of the board out. It is IDM ex-animo. Its movements pitch-alter. This is music from the soul. It sounds as genre-buckling now as it will have done in the early 1990s. The alarm-like initial melody initially hides the subtle breakbeat that builds into the piece. The 4-4 rhythm doubles up, almost rolling over itself. The four-key synth melody stirrups. The melody changes. A deeper bass commandeers.
Futurism: lasering zaps and string stabs on Caz (Close Up Over) and the steely undertones of Jauqq (Close Up Over). Sporadic canons also unload on Focus Mel (Atypic) in a manner that is not too dissimilar to early Subotnick and Nu-Sound II Crew (nearly a half-century later), or an A. Bertram Chandler hero travelling ahead to save us, the listeners in the present day. Its outro is an echoing aftershock from another place – the future is being told by Xeper as he knocks hard on the other side of the great glass door of time. The track preceding it – Carceres Ex Novum (Xeper) – underpins the experimentation which defines Bytes.
Fight the Hits (Discordian Popes) is an awesome percussive assault (similar to Polygon Window’s Quoth) which serves as a bit of a palate cleanser and a much-needed bridge between the chaotic Yamemm and Handley’s magisterial three-track denouement. Yamemm (Plaid) itself is fragmented and perhaps anomalous in this album†.
Bytes concludes with 3/4 Heart (Balil). The stock-heavy modulations are polyrhythmic. A Vangelis-esque synth is organ-like at points. The melody is snappy – danceable even! A half-clap effect – perhaps an imagined crowd – heralds the vocal line, “we must surf the universe”. The sound at this juncture is more refined, the narrative complex – the listener revolves around in a full-circle. Oneness is achieved.
At this point, it is worth mentioning how instrumental Ed Handley is to the legacy of Bytes as a groundbreaking album in IDM’s naissance. Atypic(Turner)’s Focus Mel is excellent, but it his only solo track on the entire record, and Downie’s three contributions are dynamic detours in their own right. Handley absolutely dominates this album with five solo tracks and two as part of Plaid. Whether it is Balil or Close Up Over, his mastery of clever arpeggios, countermelodies and otherworldly harmonic pads married with second-wave Detroit rhythms give the album a melodic heart, which beats all the way through from Object Orient to 3/4 Heart.
Bytes (and by extension, The Black Dog Productions moniker) also acts as an important milestone in Plaid’s evolution as a duo. Before it, we can hear on disc one of Trainer (Warp, July 2000) – an excellent compilation of Plaid’s early career output – that the group were more experimental, sample-happy, willing to genre-hop. Take the Latin-infused breakbeat stylings of Scoobs In Columbia, the jazz-tinged Slice of Cheese, or even the proto-jungle of Perplex (all these tracks were originally released from the oft-forgotten debut album Mbuki Mvuki, released on The Black Dog Productions label in 1991). Bytes on the other hand showcases a more focused pair, albeit a little lop-sided, that fills the record with top-tier ambient techno (which yes, will always get the IDM treatment!).
Spanners (originally released in January 1995), their first release on Warp, was the hit LP of The Black Dog – and for good reason. It is great to think that ‘way back then’ albums that clocked in at 75-minutes were charting (imagine that nowadays when albums are often sub-30-minutes). Admittedly, we live in a different time where attention spans are shorter. Most tracks on Spanners feel like a tug-of-war between Plaid as a duo and Downie as a solo artist. Plaid in 1994/95 had their more functional IDM/ambient-techno sound figured out, whilst Ken Downie remained somewhat of a wild-card: his trappings being more cinematic, sample-based and experimental, drawing from a much broader spectrum of influences. One of the elements we most enjoy about the output from the original Black Dog has been trying to surmise not only who did what in each track, but also which members were involved in certain outings. This is no more rewarding than on Spanners where some tracks seem like the work of a sole member (usually Downie), whereas other tracks feel like the work of a tag-team, either consisting of a Plaid member and Downie, or in the case of Tahr and Frisbee Skip, Plaid on their own. Frisbee Skip could very well double as a bonus track on the duo’s first (mainstream/Warp) full length, Not for Threes, released in October 1997.
The opening to Spanners is Raxmus, a classic in the downtempo repertoire; its sawing introductory synth leads into a horizontally relaxed beat. Raxmus feels like one of the more seamless tracks on the album, and we speculate that it is possibly a Downie/Handley duet: Downie providing the trip-hop template; Handley layering in his Balil-style harmonics.
The heavily-syncopated rhythm on Barbola Work (which disintegrates towards the end of the track) is interspersed with boings and hits and twizzles. It follows the formula that many of the early tracks on this album have: Downie providing the track’s introduction, throwing a wide range of vocal samples and/or exotic instruments at you, before Plaid build the track up with their infectious basslines, whirring clicks, zapping sound effects and magical synths. The Sugarhill Gang-laced explosion of an intro on Barbola Work is Downie through and through. Plaid then takes over to put down the melodic scaffolding and beat-work. The transition admittedly does not work quite as well on this occasion as it does on the proceeding track, Psil-Cosyin, perhaps coming off as a little dissonant.
Arguably the most cohesive three-track sequence (or four if one includes Bolt 3) follows. A major Locrian scale surfaces on Psil-Cosyin and scintillates in scaling brightness as the piece progresses. This is one of two clear highlights of the album where all three members of The Black Dog play to their individual and collective strengths and produce a definitive masterpiece. As an early Spanners track, the song structure is as described in the last paragraph. One can consider Psil-Cosyin as being composed of three suites: in the first, Downie arrests your attention with a mysterious intro of odd vocal samples and pipes; the second is signature Plaid with a slow and progressive build-up; the third is a roaring crescendo which serves as a climax. Here, all three members of the group function as a rare and perfect whole: Turner’s acid synths; Downie’s eclectic sampling; Handley’s Balil-esque angelic arpeggio. The concluding higher-rpm of the track serves perfectly to lead-in the membranophonic beat that anchors the light synth swathes on Chase The Manhattan, which may be a Downie solo venture or a collaboration between Downie and Turner. It is tribal-house-infused. The spacey pads are those that we often associate with Downie’s Xeper alias; Turner possibly contributes with acid licks and humming bass lines.
Tahr is an amalgam of the latter two tracks: a polymer-pungi weaves around a 4-4 beat. In this piece we hear a lot of Turner’s percussive sensibilities, addictive basslines and frantic trance-like synths (these can also be heard on Atypic’s Jolly on Trainer). Handley comes in later with another Locrian melodic flourish. Although Tahr is a short track, it is a great example of Plaid’s symbiosis.
One criticism we have of Spanners is its length. The 19 tracks are not an issue (the Bolt skits are sometimes only seconds long); rather, it is the occasional meanderings of the trio. Perhaps this is because thirty years have passed and listeners of the present day are used to more perfunctory albums clocking in at sub-30-minutes. Take Further Harm as an example. It is an expansive piece, one that stretches in and out, starting in the realms of downtempo, ending in synth-plopping abstraction. That said, it is one of the greatest examples of the stylistic fork-in-the-road (or tug-of-war) between Plaid and Downie. All three members are involved here, and the stop-start industrial breakbeat combined with the odd mantra of a vocal sample gives it a ‘train that is meandering down the track and picking up steam’ feel. More samples are layered in as well as all the sonics that Downie brings to the table, and then, two minutes in, the signature Plaid-synths, pads and basslines play out to give the track a melodic grounding that it did not have before. The hip-hop breakbeat is replaced entirely by a more industrial one in its later stages. As a piece that starts off travelling in one direction, Further Harm changes tracks, and an unpredictable journey ensues – it is a microcosm of Spanners.
Utopian Dream is similarly frequentative. It is one of the most leftfield pieces on the album. We have never heard anything like this from the Plaid members (was this a Downie solo?); imagine a harsher version of Boards of Canada’s Zoetrope on In A Beautiful Place Out In The Country (Warp, November 2000). The elegiac Nommo and its modulated synth stanzas and bassline climb their respective octaves – sequentially. It could have featured in a fictional Xeper album along Carceres Ex Novum on Bytes. Could the track idea have been consolidated, or even progressed like Olivine or Clan On Bytes? Regardless, Nommo remains cinematic.
The right balance between track length and monoinstrumention is achieved on Chesh, the other album highlight (it feels like more of a Handley solo piece, or mostly Handley with (possibly) Turner adding in a background layer). Pseudo-mythical modulations ascend and descend masterfully – imagine Ransom first exploring Malacandra (an Out Of This Silent Planet by C. S. Lewis reference), or the space sequence in the 1950 film, Destination Moon. There are echoes of Andreas Vollenweider too. The Balil style countermelodies and light airy synths interplay with the heavier reverb-laden keys – it is a magnificently poignant closer.
Spanners is a work of subtly in both melody and rhythm. Take the lithe key flourishes on Pot Noddle, ceilinged by the quiet clarion of higher synths; the guitar is indistinct, and the rhythm section almost organic. Fast forward to the sounds of Four Tet. The start-stop breakbeats we heard on Further Harm, albeit slower. The frantic ‘western saloon piano’ sample serves as a mid-point alarm clock. End of Time thunderously drums around penetrating synthetics. It is punchy, echoing the head nodding thrums of Fight the Hits (Discordian Popes) on Bytes. It is also trancey, and chaotically space-like (imagine the Starship Enterprise on an intentional suicide mission!). The time-warping synths are magnificent and reminiscent of early Black Dog tracks like Ambience With Teeth and Virtual, both released on the Virtual EP (Black Dog Productions, April 1989).
The skits Bolt 1 – 7 appear at varying intervals on Spanners. Some are simply white noise and filtered static, others almost wheezy. Their purpose is unknown – are they the voices of pulsars, or the sounds one would experience in the belly of an exploratory spaceship? Bolt 3 harks back at the Phrygian Psil-Cosyin and the chaotic goblet drum effect that thrums on Chase The Manhattan. Bolt 7 slides into obliquity, and onwards to Frisbee Skip. Listening to the Bolt skits again, their darker and more intense aesthetic share a similarity to Allegory 1 [Red], which Downie et al dropped in 2020. The third track on that release – Bar 331 – is metallic and off-key, an eerie transmission that has resurfaced 25-years later. Unlike the Phil interludes on Bytes, which serve as key intros and outros and transitions between certain tracks, the Bolt skits feel more like aural non-sequiturs. After listening to them again, they remind us of the more experimental segments of tracks we would hear on later Plaid albums such as Rest Proof Clockwork (Warp, June 1999) and Double Figure (Warp, May 2001).
Perhaps due to it being released on General Production Recordings rather than Warp, we consider it interesting that The Black Dog’s second album – Temple Of Transparent Balls – has not been reissued. It split their audience down the middle. We still enjoy listening to the ‘progenitor’, almost stock sounds that feature on that release. It had a machine-like quality, an insight into the deeper engineering works of IDM: a sonic forge with the anvil strikes on display.
On Spanners and Temple Of Transparent Balls, Downie’s approach and sound is definitely more unpredictable and harder to pin down than the Plaidsters’ experimentations and manipulation. We feel that the Plaid duo provide the two Black Dog albums‡ with less experimentation and a lot of the more conventional beat-work, basslines and melodic structure that would soon form the foundations of their Warp-era work, whilst Downie, the aforementioned wild-card of the trio, added in an off-the-cuff sample here, some industrial Meat Beat Manifesto-esque breakbeats there, or some bizarre and dissonant sound effects out of nowhere. He also seems to be the more cinematic of the three; his sounds are often themed on science fiction, and past and future landscapes.
So, in 2023, where do Bytes and Spanners sit in the pantheon of intelligent dance music? Well, Handley, Turner and Downie are rightly the archetypes of the IDM sound in the same way that Richard D. James (as The Dice Man), B12 (as Musicology), Autechre and Alex Paterson (as Dr Alex Paterson) are by their participation on the first Artificial Intelligence release. Having been forged out of the molten ambient techno and fiery rave scenes, the joy in returning to Bytes has been its rhythmic experimentation. Although not perfect, Spanners achieved what it set out to do. It is expansive, and labyrinthine – it washed away the harsh melodia of Detroit techno to toy with its listeners.
After the synergy, the separation. We are left with The Black Dog Mk.2 (Downie and the Dust brothers) and Plaid. The subsequent releases of The Black Dog marked a departure in sound in some regards, yet their output remains as heterogenous and experimental as it did all those years ago. The ambience of Music For Photographers (2021) is one for the musical aesthetes of this world; as an album inspired by the slab-grey brutality of the concrete architecture of Sheffield, it is wonderfully light.
The work of Turner and Handley continued as the dynamic Plaid. The duo would go on to become a permanent fixture with electronic giants Warp, starting with the ambitious and guest-heavy Not For Threes in 1997, consistently putting out records with the label to this day, a very impressive feat indeed. But how does Spanners fit in with Plaid’s break-away from The Black Dog? From what we can hear on Spanners, Plaid had become an almost-finished article with both members Handley and Turner comfortable in their respective roles. Handley clearly had already found his niche as the melodic heart of the group under his Balil alias on Parasight EP (Rising High Records, November 1993) and Bytes. We hear this consistently again and again on the most melodic segments on Spanners. By this point, Turner had also spread his wings under the Tura alias, switching to this from Atypic around 1994 (his work as Tura can be heard on the earlier-mentioned Trainer). This cemented his role as the more technical of the two: a master of infectious basslines, staccatic synths and dissonant zaps. Interestingly, Handley and Turner’s decision to move on as a duo also led to them re-embracing the genre-bending experimentalism that marked their earliest Plaid material, particularly Mbuki Mvuki. Nevertheless, no matter what sub-genre they would delve into on subsequent albums, Bytes and Spanners provided the blueprint for what would become Plaid’s core sound.
Those who listen to Bytes and Spanners in the present day will enter a sonic-time capsule: a time when a new world was burgeoned upon the drawing of the hip hop, electro and early Detroit techno influences of the late 1980s. This was a time of innovation, and deeply intelligent composition.
Footnotes:
* On the original Bytes release, this opening was actually an interlude titled Phil(7), the final of the Phil interludes. These interludes (mysteriously credited to Echo Mike, a handle to whom the identity has never been revealed) are not listed as separate tracks on the re-issue, yet they are vital elements ensuring that Bytes as an album works as a cohesive whole.
† This feels like something from Plaid’s 1989–1992 phase when they were experimenting with different sounds and styles, particularly hip-hop, early ‘90s industrial-breakbeat and house. These styles are also evident on the early EPs of The Black Dog.
‡ We are careful not to classify Bytes as a Black Dog album as it was released under Black Dog Productions, the name of their label, and a sort of holding company of all three members of the group’s respective aliases. We have also been careful in differentiating between this and The Black Dog which was the name used for their group efforts as a trio.
Monthly Playlist Revue: July 2023
July 28, 2023
CHOICE MUSIC SELECTION FROM THE LAST MONTH ON THE MONOLITH COCKTAIL
TEAM EFFORT: DOMINIC VALVONA/MATT OLIVER/BRIAN ‘BORDELLO’ SHEA/GRAHAM DOMAIN/ANDREW C. KIDD
The Monolith Cocktail Monthly playlist is a revue of the last month on the blog, plus those tunes we didn’t get time to review or feature: including Matt Oliver‘s special hip-hop selection. Curated as a musical journey by Dominic Valvona, there’s a huge diverse array of choice tunes from across the genres and the globe, collated from an amalgamation of posts by Dominic Valvona, Brian ‘Bordello’ Shea, Graham Domain and Andrew C. Kidd.
THOSE TRACKS IN FULL ARE…
Habitat 617 Ft. Jack Slayta ‘Bricklayer’
Young Van Gundy Ft. Al Divino & Tha God Fahim ‘Fuyu No Senso’
J. Scienide & Napoleon Da Legend ‘Wind Parade’
Annie Taylor ‘Fucking Upset’
White Ring ‘Before He Took The Gun’
African Head Charge ‘Asalatua’
Mokoomba ‘Ndipe’
OKI ‘Tukinahan Kamuy’
Dip In The Dub ‘La Cumbia Del Sufi Que No Sabia Bailer’
Luiza Lian ‘Eu Estou Aqui’
Deja Blu ‘Crash’
It’s Karma It’s Cool ‘Vacations In A Taxi Cab’
Life Strike ‘Whip Around’
K-Nite 13 & Lee Scott Ft. Homeboy Sandman ‘Staple Junk’
The Moose Funk Squad ‘Abe Simpson’
Verb T & Vic Grimes ‘Your Heart Deserves’
SadhuGold ‘Fear Of A Black Yeti’
The Difference Machine ‘His Country’
Rusty Santos ‘Focus’
August Cooke ‘Shed With Me’
Maija Sofia ‘Telling The Bees’
Circe ‘My Boy Aphrodite’
Natalie Rose LeBrecht ‘Holy’
Hackedepicciotto ‘La Femme Sauvage’
Fat Frances ‘The Worm In The Wood’
Mike Gale ‘Summer Be Gone’
Stella Burns & Mick Harvey ‘My Heart Is A Jungle’
Emil Amos ‘Jealous Gods’
Oopsie Dasies ‘Illusioned-Broken Toys’
Zohastre ‘DUNE’ <THIS MONTH’S COVER ART STARS>
The Holy Family ‘Hell Born Babel’
The Dark Jazz Project ‘Jazz’
Healing Force Project ‘Inharmonious Layer’
Sebastian Reynolds ‘Cascade’
Caterina Barbieri ‘Sufyosowirl’
Ziur Ft. Abdullah Miniawy ‘Malikan’
Pierce Artists ‘Black Hooded Generals’
Stu Bangas & Chino XL ‘Who Told You’
Teflon/M.O.P. & DJ Premier ‘The Thoro Side’
Remulak & Moka Only ‘Starlings Green’
Jonny Wickham ‘Uncanny Valley’
Marty Isenberg ‘Life On Mars’
Gibralter Drakus ‘Exode Rural’
Las Mijas ‘Ronca (Carta Para Una Mija)’
Our Daily Bread 585: An Experiment with Myuthafoo
July 21, 2023
LITERATURE/ANDREW C. KIDD
Caterina Barbieri explores the mutability of time on Myuthafoo, a 6-track piece released on the Light-Years label on 16th June 2023. It was composed in the same period as Ecstatic Computation (Editions Mego, 2019).
I have written a short story which references the broad-themed narrative of time. The two characters in the story are connected through a transient common consciousness, independent of time, each sharing their own respective experiences millennia apart. They are unconscious of this at first, but gradually develop insights into the event.
The first character is a cosmometeorologist (denoted as *) who exists in the distant future, returning from an interstellar mission, repeating his observations of TOI-2180 b, the Jupiter-like planet located 379 light-years away in the Draco constellation. The second character is a taikonaut (denoted as ∆) who is the first person to enter the orbit of Mùxīng. Mùxīng is the Mandarin word for Jupiter, translating as ‘Star of Wood’. They both listen to Myuthafoo on their respective journeys.
*
After a rapid deceleration, the long body of the survey vessel made an uncomfortably abrupt stop. A single occupant was jolted forward in his harness. The monitor projecting inside his helmet blinked the characters TOI-2180 b. The red writing of the display flooded through his visor as the synthesisers of Memory Leak sawed and played out triumphantly in his headset.
Finally!, he gleamed inside, the Draco constellation. The journey had been a long one, and
not without challenge.
Steely synths arped and orbited on Math of You in a manner not too dissimilar to his own trajectory around the exoplanet. He smiled witlessly at this reference.
He vacated the lead-lined safety of his survival pod and immediately felt the stifling heat within the grand archways and long corridors of the ship – this was the unintended transference of heat through the protective shields of its fusion reactors. His heart rate still bounded away at a fast-tempo; it held steady as he glimpsed out of the bow window.
The familiar rubor of this exoplanet reddened the white suit of the cosmometeorologist in pinkish projection. He observed its clouds that banded and danced in linear synergy as they rapidly rotated upon its axis. Their formations and morphology were recorded perfunctorily. Superstorms he named after other nebulae because that was easier than remembering the names of men and gods that he had never known or cared to know. The cloud vortices expanded and contracted in eternal rage. He marvelled at their fury.
This visit to Draco was a routine one: a simple stop-off to allow the hot heat exchanger to cool on his return from the recesses of intermediate space. Soon, his palm would hover over the propellant injector control, releasing the fusion pellet to send the ship forward, and him homeward.
After collating the new data, he made arrangements to have these safely stored for future analyses. During this process, he had started to feel uneasy: an unnerving sensation was propagating through him. He turned off the music blaring loudly in his headset, beckoning silence and space to breathe. The dizzying modulations of the synths had reached a pinnacle of inorganic arrhythmicity – perhaps this had been the cause for his unsettling?
He stared out silently at the hulking exoplanet for a while longer, pondering whether the way he felt had something to do with its magnetic energy. He peered into the dense orb in an act of mindfulness, imagining what metals and minerals its core contained. This had little effect. The discomforting feeling had become more pervasive.
What is this!? His mind called out in internal inquisition.
It was as if an invisible force was streaming slowly through him, illuminating not only his body, but his very being.
∆
A white-suited taikonaut was sitting at a seemingly incommodious 45-degree angle. Yet he sat quite comfortably, completely weightless in space, shuffling through the alphabetically-stored sounds that he had brought with him on this momentous journey.
Don Buchla – not today…
A reading of Golden Apples of the Sun…
No, no… it’s under ‘m’… ah, m…
The North Shanxi Suite by Ma Ke…
Moon, Silver Apples of…
Yes… here it is…
Myuthafoo
He pressed the play button on his receiver, smiling broadly because the celebratory opening track embodied the spirit of adventure. Minutes later, the shorn cross-section of the wooden planet came into view through the bow window.
Mùxīng, he declared to himself.
*
Mùxīng? I… I… what is this? I have never been here before – the star system, it… it is completely unrecognisable. It seems… illusory – a déjà vu, but…
Moving his hand away from the propellant injector control, he turned around to look through the observation aperture on the starboard side.
Barked appearance; ringed by age; gaseous whorls; circular and impermeable –
He paused to observe the ever-changeability of the line-like clouds that wrapped around the planet. They moved in opposing directions like some great puzzle that would eventually split open to reveal its hidden contents.
He left the observation station and made the short walk to the bridge; there, he would recalibrate the cartograph.
Red words continued to blink TOI-2180 b in his visor. He knew that the co-ordinates of the ship would have already been checked and double checked by the on-board neural network; still, he manually validated these in accordance with protocol. His location had been confirmed: he remained within the confines of Draco.
The cosmometeorologist had already passed through this constellation on his forward voyage. He compared the measurements of the specific gravity that he had obtained those short years ago with his updated readings.
It is much lighter… three-times lighter on this occasion!
His stomach had started to churn and a mild nausea built up inside him – invocations of the unexpected sight of this strange planet. For the first time in his life, he experienced the nervous excitement of uncertainty, the heavy weight of expectation. It was quite a remarkable achievement: he was the first to…
He stopped himself.
I have not been the first to observe this.
He sat down guardedly. Thoughts oscillated in his head. Eventually he calmed his mind by visualising absolutely nothing. He inhaled and exhaled four times a minute, repeating internally:
I am a cosmometeorologist. I am recording the density of TOI-2180 b. The presence of this exoplanet is undeniable. I knew it was here. I observed it only a few short years ago. This is a routine mission. My forward and return data should be the same.
I am not here to discover. There are vessels for that purpose situated in deep space.
I cannot discover something that has already been discovered!
I… I have discovered nothing here!
∆
‘Are you getting this, Control?’
The taikonaut remained suspended in pseudo-weightlessness, the padded shoulder straps securing him to the modular seat. He had already pressed the blue ‘load’ button on the grey panel in front of him. The dimly-lit red display blinked in confirmation that his message had been sent.
‘Affirmative. We have your location. Aphelion: 816 Gm. Perihelion 740 Gm. Location confirmed as Mùxīng.’ The static in his receiver crackled in return. It continued.
‘Commander, Mùxīng marks a colossal milestone in our celestial journey!’
This congratulatory statement had washed over the taikonaut. The reference had made no sense: he had trodden on nothing. His focus remained firmly on the readings on his monitor. He leant forward and pressed the blue button again.
‘Control, it is…’.
‘Repeat…’, Control broke in. ‘We could not make out your last transmission.’
‘The exoplanet…’, the taikonaut paused momentarily. ‘It is… much denser than I imagined. Also, it has far fewer moons than we had previously considered’.
‘Exoplanet?’, the static of Control enquired.
*
Am I truly conscious of this? Has the arduous journey unlocked some deeper awareness within me?
My vital signs are normal.
What is this feeling that… no, it is not fleeting because I can still feel it – it is… fading.
I must be imagining it. Yes, it is in my imagination.
But how can I be imagining something that I already knew was there.
The cosmometeorologist had closed his eyes to enter the deeper reaches of his mind.
I cannot be experiencing this… it… it is as if someone else has already lived in this moment… transf–… transference of thought… that would be improbable… impossible, even!
The cloud-ringed planet continually resurfaced in his consciousness. He opened his eyes to stare at its globular shape, the Great Spot, its barge, its moons –
The moons! Hah! the radius of its moons and their respective orbits – yes, the moons… I will use them to calculate its density.
The cosmometerologist peered through his viewing apparatus, eventually recoiling in shock.
How can that be?! 95 moons!
As he leant back in his chair, his headset clipped the edge of its protective padding, switching the music suddenly back on. The step-like cyclisms of Alphabet of Light played unhurriedly. He listened to the organic sound. It was oxymoronic. The pioneering excitement still fluttered within him. He turned around as the Gas Giant momentarily left his visual field: the window pillar of the ship had blocked out its unfamiliar appearance in quiet orbit.
∆
A soulful symphonia continued to play with the starlight: the two-toned lightness of Sufyosowirl echoed back the title track. It was organ-like as it entered another modular sequence. The taikonaut remained poised in controlled weightlessness.
‘I can confirm my last transmission as being correct. Exoplanets. I repeat: exoplanets, and exomoons. I am visualising something truly marvellous here. A Mùxīng-like planet, Jovian in stature; yet, something on a wholly grander scale.’
‘According to our readings, your present location is Mùxīng’, Control hissed into his receiver. ‘Please relay your bearings.’
The taikonaut remained silent: he had sunk into a deep introspection.
Am I imbalanced because I am listening to a contrapuntal melodia, one that holds its notes before stepping down the next rung of the polyphonic ladder? Disorientation through some form of sonic imbibement…
‘Please repeat’, Control rasped.
A new sound for a new vision – synthetic and tom-tom like, steadily moving me further away from the reality of this moment.
The taikonaut observed the exoplanet long after his vessel had escaped its magnetic pull. He moved slowly away on his mission to reach the dust-ringed world of Saturn.
*
The image of the gaseous clouds slowly dissipated into the ether of the cosmometeorologist’s mind. Swirls of You crackled indistinctly in his headset, bringing him back to the present. He knew that this would fade into a calming niente.
His monitor repeatedly blinked out the characters TOI-2180 b. His hand moved down to prime the nuclear fusion engines. He returned to the sanctity of the lead-lined survival pod during this pre-propulsive state. Glancing one last time at the disappearing planet, his ship lurched forward to leave a long and vapour-like trail of plasma that stretched far enough to traverse infinity.
Our Daily Bread 581: Colin Dyer ’47ram Negativ65′
July 4, 2023
ALBUM REVIEW BY ANDREW C. KIDD
Colin Dyer ’47ram Negativ65′
(Schematic Music Company)
Colin Dyer’s music is multidimensional. In 2020, he released the cryptic Cypher (the tracks are written in Morse code) – imagine an Iannis Xenakis composition tapped slowly through a war-time telegraph. Then there is the inexplicably meditative Vector Caliente, released in 2022. His 30-track The Cyberneticist, published in the same year, is finely crafted musical fantascience. Listen to tracks such as rest Tybie technic which imbue the sonic strangeness of earliest Ross 154 on the Eevo Lute Muzique label, and the twenty-six track – Bettie recti synch 2 – which is like a condensed Knowledge Through Science by Richard H. Kirk. His latest release on the Schematic Music Company label is titled 47ram Negativ65.
Zap! The zither-like boings and laser effects on the opening track Ph6Fenix scan across the listener’s aural frequencies, splitting all in its atonal path. This is cold futurism. The hit-hat deconstruction is clever. The reverberating two-key melody is eventually hauled back from the ashes as its title perhaps alludes to. It is not entirely dissonant; the otherworldly vacillating synthesiser melody on Ph6Fenix imbues a calm neutrality, serving to soften the sound. The rhythm is coppery – it is slowly oxidised by the vocals. damb loop is scalene, a triangle with unequal measure. The steely synthesisers scythe away until their breakdown in the final third. The track tailspins around in dysrhythmic chaos until Dyer eventually resuscitates the original melody – perhaps he could have progressed the sound a little further at this point? Either way, damb loop is zoopraxiscopic: a one-reeler.
Various intelligent dance music artists are referenced in the accompanying press release: Autechre, Dopplereffekt, Unit Moebius / Bunker Records, et cetera. probability acid is the closest that Dyer comes to the experimental idiosyncrasies of these stalwarts. Ultimately, he achieves a Yevgeny Zamyatin-like dystopia: glassy, repetitive – numeric. “Every billionaire on this planet is a parasiiiiite”, announces the vocalist on 7061726173697465. From the politically rouge origins to the militaristic two-set rhythm, it is a metaphor for the hard-knuckled fist of authoritarianism. Unlike the other tracks, its sound is contained. It does not expand exponentially; rather, it remains quietly amelodic, and brutal. Dyer is no stranger to Morse code (remember Cypher) – the Morse code translation of 6opC68ance is -…. — .–. -.-. -…. —.. .- -. -.-. . Multiple frequencies are sent out like this in quick-fire volleys to disorientate the listener.
Dyer’s scholastic achievement on 47ram Negativ65 is his effective use of xenharmonic scales: the claustrophobic pitching heightens the overarching theme of oppression. In equal measure are the moments of sonic elevation akin to the hyper-intelligence of a Poul Anderson novel. Admittedly, it does border on being unchanging at times, but so be it given its inaesthetic dystopian theme. If there is any respite from the dissonance and microtonality, it is listening to Dyer’s dexterity in compositional form.
Monthly Playlist: June 2023: Valia Calda, Killer Mike, Sparks, Kool Keith, Luzmila Carpio…
June 29, 2023
THE JUNE SELECTION: 50 plus tracks from the artists/bands we championed, rated and loved during the last thirty days. This is the eclectic, global and influential Monolith Cocktail Monthly Playlist, with music chosen from all the releases we covered in June plus those we didn’t have room for at that time. Selectors include Dominic Valvona (who curated this expansive playlist), Matt Oliver, Brian ‘Bordello’ Shea, Andrew C. Kidd and Graham Domain.
___TRACKLIST___
Valia Calda ‘Stalker’
La Jungle ‘La Compagnie de la Chanson’
Ramuntcho Matta ‘Hukai’
Pan Afrikan Peoples Arkestra ‘Nation Rising’
Killer Mike Ft. Jagged Edge ‘SUMMER’
Royalz Ft. THE HIDDEN CHARACTER ‘God In Da Ghetto’
Professor Elemental ‘Ready Or Not’
DJ Mk & Sonnyjim ‘WORTH THE RISK’
Revival Season ‘Chop’
Vieira and The Silvers ‘The Judge’
Trees Speak ‘Radiation’
Cat Box Room Bois ‘California Stars’
ANGHARAD ‘Postpartum’
Outer Limit Lotus ‘Let The Night Ride You’
The Kingfishers ‘Lapwings’
Sedona ‘Domino’
Katie Von Schleicher Ft. Lady Lamb ‘Elixir’
Mari Kalkun ‘Munamae Loomine (The Creation Of Munamagi|)’
Sparks ‘Not That Well Defined’
Bob Dylan ‘Queen Jane Approximately’
Maija Sofia ‘Four Winters’
Mike Cooper Ft. Viv Corringham ‘A Lemon Fell’
Dirty Dike Ft. Jam Baxter ‘The Places We’ve Been In’
The Chives ‘Your Mom’s A Bitch’
Lunch Money Life ‘The God Phone II’
Martha Skye Murphy ‘Dogs’
Sacrobosco ‘Pearl’
CODED ‘Binary Beautiful (Sunshine Variation)’
Baldruin ‘Zuruckgelassen’
Lauren Bousfield Ft. Ada Rock ‘Hazer’
Ital Tek ‘The Mirror’
Joe Woodham ‘Spring Tides’
WITCH ‘Streets Of Lusaka’
Celestial North ‘Otherworld’
Psyche ‘Kuma’
Omar Ahmad ‘Cygnet Song’
Luzmila Carpio ‘Inti Watana – El Retorno del Sol’
Ricardo Dias Gomes ‘Invernao Astral’
Andrew Heath ‘Fold’
Granny Smith ‘Egypt’
Spindle Ensemble & Evergreen Club Contemporary Gamelan ‘Lucid Living – Live’
Pawz One & Preed One ‘Revenge Of Silky Johnson’
ILL BILL, Non Phixion, La Coka Nostra, Kool G. Rap, Vinnie Paz ‘Root For The Villain’
Syrup Ft. Twit One, C. Tappin & Turt ‘Timing Perfect’
John Coltrane Ft. Eric Dolphy ‘Impressions – Live’
Vermin the Villain & ELAM ZULA ‘POWER OF TWO’
King Kashmere & Alecs Delarge Ft. HPBLK, Ash The Author & Booda French ‘Astro Children’
Lukah ‘First Copy’
Kool Keith ‘First Copy’
Stik Figa & The Expert ‘Slo Pokes’
S. Kalibre Ft. Scoob Rock, Slap Up Mill, Jabba The Kut ‘Murda Sound Bwoy’
Verbz, Nelson Dialect & Mr. Slipz ‘Beside Me’
Dillion & Diamond D ‘Uncut Gems’
Our Daily Bread 579: Ital Tek ‘Timeproof’
June 22, 2023
ALBUM REVIEW/ANDREW C. KIDD
Ital Tek ‘Timeproof’
Timeproof is a soundtrack of our time: sobering; fierce – Hitchcockian. It is the seventh album of Alan Myson, better known as Ital Tek. Early Ital Tek was different. Cyclical (2008) was under-appreciated and served as a fine example of expansionist dubstep. Midnight Colour (2010) was two-/dubstep heavy with a blurrier focus on bass; it crossed the melodic line into intelligent dance music. Nebula Dance (2012) was pure footwork at a time when his label (Planet Mu) were dropping their hugely influential Bangs and Works Volumes. He took an abstract view of drum n’ bass on his sub-half hour mini-album Control (2013): the amen break was observed through broken glass. It was maddeningly chaotic. Conversely, the rhythmless Zero was the highlight on that release – shattering mellow synth and choral notes were released like steam from a venting fumarole*. Ital Tek’s sound changed dramatically thereafter. In Hollowed (2014) he actually entered the fumarole. He continues to inhabit this lightless space. His explorations have taken him through the metamorphic mantles, onwards to the metallic core. I recently revisited some of his previous extended plays. Dissonance featured heavily on Seraph (2020): an example of this is the opening chords on Granite & Glass. The choppy snare drums on the title track recalled his dubstep origins; its back-lit harpsichords ripped the whole sound open. Throughout Seraph I had visions of water. It was as if I was listening to something immensely epic that had been fully submersed. The melancholic Hazed cascaded like a waterfall: I watched its waters pile over a precipice in real-time – in my mind, the water reversed back upwards. After on The Speed of Darkness EP (2017) had brought me to a similarly restful space.
In stark contrast, Timeproof seeks to discompose. Ultimately, it is an aural observation on that great unknowable construct: time. The glass-seated chair that sits in the centre of the accompanying album art is hallucinatory. The chrome finish reflects inwards rather than outwards. Time is clearly considered to be recondite here, and surrealist (like the accompanying art). To the music! Granular subterranean tones flow beneath Phantom Pain. Ital Tek has opted for a different drum programme from what I can discern: early Skull Disco label meets the machinations of The Bug meets even earlier John Carpenter. It is as mettlesome as anticipated; son futur, musical noir played through voltage-controlled filters and a sustained envelope. The synth-glory that sonically needles its why into one’s ears was there in 2016 when he released his Beyond Sight EP; specifically, the final piece, Until The End Of Time. The opposing mellow hues split across a sunrise on Staggered. The two-keyed notes ascend before being called back in semi-tonic descent. It is monastic and fleeting – catharsis after the opening assault. Heart String is suspenseful with a locomotive-like opening as the chords are played through pulsing low-rpm drums. It beckons a deeper sub-melody that is improvised (rather oddly, I am reminded of Keith Hopwood and Malcolm Rowe’s score to the 1989 film adaptation of The BFG here, particularly the dissonant dreamcatcher sequences). It ends in an ascending tremolo to anti-climax. Darking proceeds and is empirical. Its movements blindside the listener. The synthesiser melody almost tears through the headphones to reveal a mathematical harpsichord melody is akin to ‘future baroque’. This Bach-like and cyclically-variable approach is evident on the hymnal Open Heart on his Outland LP as it switches to a quasi-organ sound around its midpoint. There are elements of Underworld and Jon Hopkins here (particularly the waltzing treble kick that staccato into an off-beat which is a signature of the latter artist). Ital Tek has been here before: listen to Time Burns Heavy on his Dream Boundary EP (2020). Similarly, on this LP, counterpoint synthesiser melodies play out on One Eye Open and Zero Point. As its title suggests: Darking is to be listened to underground. Hear, hear! to Ital Tek the fatalistic.
Zero Point is another good example of Ital Tek’s mastering of suspense: off-cut synths and synth waves pulse and swell; distorted sawing gnaws away to eventually overwhelm; a clever cut reveals a lithe, two-tone sub-melody. The rhythm section muscles-in as an early double-kick, part-syncopated and cyclical 4-4. Fourth dimensional bells are dissonant – they jangle, elevating the piece. The sub-bass is given momentary reprieve to breath. The latter has become a signature of Ital Tek: musical deconstruction in an act of self-interrogation followed by a systematic reworking that leads to reimagined drops or a cleverly concealed false summit as is the case on Zero Point. The tracks Endless and Oblivion Theme on his remarkable Outland long play (2020) also embody this metaphor of compositional disintegration.
Timeproof offers moments akin to a dystopian mass for modern times. Listen to the modular sequences that cascade on the The Mirror. Synth-swords are sharpened. Its beat is hi-hat-less grunge – trap for the modern era. Peremptory and leaden, the kick drum batters at the walls. On Cold Motion Ital Tek sustains the notes like the ambient-noire of Vangelis. It would suit the slow-shot of a Tarkovsky film: think the railroad sequence on Stalker (1979), or the Earth scene from Solaris (1972). The aesthetic is cataclysmal: slow-build; bittersweet melodia; major and minor progressions. The album becomes canonical at the juncture of its final two tracks: The Next Time You Die and the title track. The former opens with arresting vocals sung in strange triads. The melody is inconsistent and broken. The synths offset this, but only a little. It is a chorus of the two worlds that Ital Tek inhabits. The motif played on the organ at 2-minutes 34-seconds is progressed slightly until we are guided into the crypt. It is stony and marbled and mottled, yet in the same breathe, life-giving. The final (and title) track opens with low-frequency strings in a similar mode to the double basses that build upon the Aeolian scale of the opening movement of Henryk Górecki’s Symphony No. 3, Op. 36. The organ-like movement from the preceding track reappears; except, this time, it is held longer. The keys are pressed harder. They sustain and are sustained until they cannot sustain any more. The cacophony of sounds are pained. It grimaces at you, and eventually, a sardonic smile appears. The body of sound is then laid to rest. I think of many things when listening to this album. The sound is cathedralic. At points, it is cinematic. Ultimately, my thoughts rest on a chrysalis. From its ominous opening to hymnal finish, Timeproof grows inside a cocoon of polyrhythm and sub-melody until its wings eventually open to close, making a final and magnific opening in conquering glory.
*a fumarole is an opening in the Earth’s crust through which steam and gases are released
ANDREW C. KIDD
ALBUM REVIEW BY ANDREW C. KIDD
Gabríel Ólafs ‘Lullabies for Piano and Cello’
(Decca Records) 9th June 2023
Unsurprisingly, Icelandic lullabies are hard to come by. The few that do exist are comparatively bleaker – less cradle song; one could argue abstruse. Take the title of Móðir Mín Í Kví, Kví (in English, Mother of mine in the sheep pen), or the lines of Bíum bíum bambaló, a lullaby from Iceland made famous by Icelandic post-rock stalwarts Sigur Rós: ‘Bíum bíum bambaló / Bambaló og dillidillidó’; in English, ‘My little friend I lull to rest / But outside, a face looms at the window’. Still, a lullaby in the orthodox sense should serve to lull. Enter pianist Gabríel Ólafs. Lullabies for Piano and Cello offers something altogether gentler and less menacing. It is his second long play after the 2019 release Absent Minded, which earned him plenty of plaudits.
The opening piece is the spry Fantasía. It is finely poised and well-balanced. The long notes of Sigurðardóttir’s cello play slowly and jig around the piano keys that staccato and pirouette. Sálmur derives its title from the Old Norse word ‘salmr’, a psalm. The keys are bittersweet. Here there is clever use of the foot pedal: Ólafs holds the notes suspensefully, allowing the cello to inhale and exhale measuredly as they alternate between legato and bowed tremolo. Octaves are climbed by the piano, but the cello remains rooted in the bass clef. Moonlight streams in glittering certitude on Noktúrna. The piano is light and a little more distant than it was previously, perhaps in the same way that the eye perceives the blue light of the moon: familiar but altered – illusory even. Embers emerge and billow away on Eldur (from the Old Norse ‘eldr’, or fire). The cello enters and vacates as quickly as it emerged. It echoes the
piano, elongating the notes as it evaporates into the ether.
Ólafs is an effective narrator. On Frost, the left-hand plays gently. Its melody is simple and dots around a major scale. It is clear and glistens and is made momentary as it welcomes the sun; soon, it will become water, evaporating to air, exiting the world as quickly as it entered it. Is it too far-fetched to suggest that this is a bleak allegory of life? I shall leave that for the listener to decide. It is an Icelandic lullaby after all.
The harmonics of the cello play quietly, deepening the piano on Vísa. The melody is played legato. It is fluent. This deftness, this wonderful una corda (soft pedal) of the piano is felt again on Mamma which almost progresses into a lullaby; I write ‘almost’ because although the structure is circular, the melody is not repeated. Barnkind is Icelandic for ‘child’. The cello is the sole focus here. In the accompanying album notes, the cello is considered to be the “mother’s voice, sometimes speaking, sometimes singing” – this assertion is most evident on this piece. It soothes.
On Bambaló the cello bows quietly. It encompasses the mysticism of early folk – was this an ode to a tree, or a long-lost lover, or an ideal? The piece intensifies, yet the piano remains light and unimodal throughout. Its chords, its narrative, are progressed solely by the cello. The keys mimic in gentle accompaniment. It ends thoughtfully. Draumheimar is the final piece. It translates into English as ‘dreamworlds’. Clocking in at over three-minutes, it is longest piece on the album. The piano takes centre stage and plays a major key melody. I hear echoes of Ólafs’s previous LP at this juncture. The keys become less distinct and the hammer-action of the piano strings are audible here: they are dulcimer-like. It is pianissimo: very quiet; then calando: it softens and slows.
Lullabies for Piano and Cello is beguiling. Compared to much of modern-day classical composition, the pieces are very short, yet none are perfunctory. More so, it is completely emptied of electronics and field recordings. It is a work of simplicity. The melodies are short-lived and never reprised. Even more beguiling is the origins of this album: Ólafs chancing upon a collection of melodies in an antique bookshop. It beggars the question as to how many unplayed lullabies are lying unthumbed and unturned in bookshelves elsewhere in our world.
THE LONG VIEW/A SPECIAL ESSAY BY ANDREW C. KIDD AND ROSS PERRY
The four-bar amen drum break has defined jungle and drum n’ bass music for the past three decades. In this essay, we seek to showcase the present-day preservationists, revisionists and revivalists who serve to uphold the eclectic standards of these energetic and soulful sub-genres. Through their innovation, jungle and drum n’ bass remains as heterogeneous as it did when it was first introduced.
“You can compile your own orchestra out of one module”, LTJ Bukem
The focus of the fantastically produced BBC documentary Modern Times – LTJ Bukem was Daniel Williamson, better known by his alias LTJ Bukem, and his trip to Japan with his enigmatic manager Tony Fordham in 1997. It offered some wonderful insights into drum n’ bass production. Sounds were spliced through vinyl manipulation, breaks were chopped, and rhythms were crafted. This is the beauty of do-it-yourself production: it encourages innovation. And innovation there was aplenty in the mid-to-late 1990s. Take the tribalism and 45-rpm-isms of Witchman and early Photek (himself a Good Looking Records label mate of Williamson – he was known as Aquarius then). There was the scale-climbing and shuffling two-step of Terraforming by 4Hero (on the Parallel Universe LP on Reinforced in 1994) – perhaps the first example of the footwork musical sub-genre? Moments of comedy were delivered by Plug in Drum’n’Bass For Papa, released on Blue Angel in 1996, which has been proffered in small measures in recent times by Coco Bryce whose work features heavily on the Breda-based label Myor. His sound is an eclectic and innovative one: listen to the handcrafted approach of A Cherry Riddim (released on 3rd May 2022) and the variety performance of Grand Larceny (Bootlegs 2012 – 2022, released 15th November 2022).
“We are I.E / let me hear you scream”, Lennie De-Ice
A detailed purview of the evolution of jungle and drum n’ bass is beyond the scope of this essay. For a comprehensive commentary, read Martin James’ insightful book State of Bass: Jungle – The Story So Far [1]. Strictly speaking, drum n’ bass has evolved from jungle. Drum n’ bass has less amen loops and ragga influences but more synths and organic beats. Drum n’ bass is two-step-heavy whereas jungle cycled around chopped breakbeats at a higher beats per minute. Some argue that drum n’ bass was refinement in the jungle sound. The liquid drum n’ bass scene provides some weight to that argument. Others cite political differences with drum n’ bass moving away from the protestations and political origins of jungle and its precursor, (proto)jungle and its fusion of breakbeat, rap and soul. Lennie De-Ice’s We Are I.E has been credited as the seminal work in jungle (released by Reel 2 Reel Productions in 1991). Like all formulae of new musical sub-genres, its heterogeneous elements coalesce into a homogenized constant. Jungle, the compound of breakbeat hardcore, reggae, dub, dancehall and hip-hop, had one constant: the amen break. This simple drum loop was taken from a Winstons’ single B- side titled Amen, Brother (Color Him Father, released on Metromedia in 1969). Jungle’s origins can be traced back to the social construct of late 1980s Blighty. Sound systems, which had emanated from 1950’s Kingston, were found across cityscapes. Legendary clubs such as Roast and Telepathy showcased the sounds of DJ Ron, DJ Hype and Kenny Ken. Raves became commonplace. Pirate radio was a highly influential communicator of the sound. Raids on underground raves and the digitalisation of music contributed. Some argue that when General Levy brought the sound into the charts with his single Incredible (M-Beat song) on the label Renk in 1994 – jungle’s appearance under the spotlight of the mainstream stage proved too bright and too far removed from the warehouses and underground spaces of this anarchistic sub-culture.
The metallurgist’s metallurgist Clifford Joseph Price, better known as Goldie, released Timeless on the Metalheadz label in 1995. It is a masterpiece in sound. Its eponymous opener is contrapuntal: a canonical layering of vocals and synths. State of Mind is caprice-like. Sea of Tears is a bittersweet fantasia. Adrift is soulful. You & Me is a melodious ballad. Its beautiful piano prelude is joyous. Timeless was the conception of Price, however Rob Playford (of the trailblazing label Moving Shadow) and Dego and Marc Mac (fellow junglists in 4hero) were heavily involved in its production and engineering. It was perhaps overlooked for the Mercury Music Prize shortlist that year, albeit this was deservedly won by Portishead with trip-hop legend Tricky and electronic stalwarts Leftfield making the shortlist. Testament to the musicality of the drum n’ bass genre, New Forms by Roni Size & Reprazent did eventually win the coveted prize in 1997. Recently the Metalheadz label has embraced a behemoth: a 25 Years of Metalheadz project. Part 1 opened with John B and a remastering of his Up All Night in January 2021 (the original was released in 2001). Part 9 dropped on 17th March 2023. As alluded to, Timeless and orchestral composition have similitude. The Heritage Orchestra version of Sea of Tears is telling in this regard. Goldie has experimented with classical elements to great effect (watch Classic Goldie, a two-part BBC documentary in 2009 where Price composes a piece of classical music which is played by the BBC Concert Orchestra and the London Philharmonic Choir). The string sections on his albums are reminiscent of the ambience of Edward Elgar, especially the soft chords of the larghetto from his second symphony, and the drama of Britten’s Four Sea Interludes from the opera Peter Grimes.
Logical Progression, a compilation album released by the venerable and aforementioned LTJ Bukem in 1996, was a further landmark in the genre. Its fusion of ragga and dancehall elements from the earliest days of jungle and the progression of the amen break into mathematical convolutions remains lauded to this day; for example, Cassini’s Dream by Theory, released as recently as 7th October 2022 on the RuptureLDN label, is referential. However, the sound that had come to define the drum n’ bass of the mid-1990s fizzled out in the early 2000s like the corked champagne proffered by the ‘theme park’ UK garage scene (2-step garage is not included this reference), and eventually completely following the denouement of speed garage and its frustrating one-dimensionality (Groove Armada did give it a popular send-off with Superstylin’ on Pepper/Jive Electro in the early noughties). Although it vacated the mainstream arena, jungle and drum n’ bass did not disappear. Artists like Andy F continued to evolve the sound (listen to Colours on F-Jams in 1997). High Society by High Contrast, released by Hospital Record in 2004, was probably the last hurrah of the mid-1990s aesthetic. Artists such as Luke Vibert, particularly his mid-noughties throwback-jungle work under the alias Amen Andrews, and the liquid drum n’ bass purist Calibre continued to make forays out in the open, reminding the general populace that the sound was alive somewhere. Calibre’s Second Sun LP, released on Signature Recordings in 2005 with Diane Charlemagne (who sung on Timeless) featuring on the track Bullets is one of the finest amalgams of soul and drum n’ bass. Artists like Pendulum and Chase & Status and the drum n’ bass super group Bad Company (members: dBridge, Fresh and Vegas) were releasing albums in the mid-noughties, marking the end of the second heyday of drum n’ bass (in the mainstream electronic sense). The sound had been commercialised again: it was liquid-sound predominant – music for the masses. However, unlike its 1994 metamorphosis, the shelf-life of drum n’ bass was more pronounced: dubstep had completely supplanted it.
Preservation, noun, prezəˈveɪʃn: keeping something in its original state [2]
Jungle and drum n’ bass long plays, extended plays, split sides, compilations and singles are as abundant in 2023 as they ever have been. Take the Future Retro London label and their roster, which boasts the likes of Phineus II and Ricky Force alongside drum n’ bass ‘lifers’ Kloke and Tim Reaper. Their ragga sample-heavy outputs would not sound out of place if one had stumbled into Helter Skelter or Voodoo Magic in the early 1990s (the sci-fi explorative Nebula’s The Future, released on 7th April 2023, is an avant-garde exception in some respect). So where does Future Retro’s output sit? Testimonial? – no; revivalist? – probably not; yet, they reference and reclaim the iconic elements of jungle. Are they preservationists? – yes. A sonic time capsule self-propagating within itself. Sub Code Records also carefully serve to preserve the genre with ragga samples spliced around space age synth effects. Take the pentatonic sub-bass lines on Cream by Freegroove (released on 6th April 2020) and Badboy Bloodclaat by Lavery (7th September 2020) and the rapid breaks on Run It… Cos Dis Is How We Roll by Krave (15th November 2018) and Juice-E’s Golly Gosh (31st July 2019). Janaway’s Sensi Lover (17th March 2023), Bow Street Runner’s The Fear (31st January 2023) and Millie’s Back 2 Life / So High (30th January 2019) slam the gear stick into reverse with a high-octanereturn to the breakbeat hardcore of yore. Hands across chests, each track kneels to In Effect byDJ Red Alert and Mike Slammer (released on Slammin’ Vinyl in 1993). Returning to jungle, the ironically-named South Korean Jungle Fatigue Records also seeks to preserve the amen break (listen to their two recently release mixtapes Jungle Fatigue Volumes 1and 2; Volume 2 dropped as recently as 4th April 2023). Heavier drum-work is offered by fellow preservationists Kid Drama and DJ Trace and their collaborative project Nine Windows: their cosmic, LTJ- inspired (and befittingly titled) track Looking Back on the Rules of Thirds LP dropped on 15th March 2023.
Revision, noun, rɪˈvɪʒn: a change or set of changes to something [3]
Those producing jungle and drum n’ bass music have always cut down their listeners with swash-buckling snares and the bombast of bassy sub-rhythms, yet this aural onslaught has always been offset somewhat by its soft-gloved atmospheric edge. The sustained pads and symphonic influences of these sub-genres are synonymous with LTJ Bukem. He alluded to this when discussing his own approach to track composition in a XLR8R interview, considering tracks to have multiple sections with amen-less intros and breakdowns [4]. He also highlighted the importance of narrative in composition. The finest example of narrative in drum n’ bass is Goldie’s sixty-minute matriarchal masterpiece and opener to Saturnz Return, released by Metalheadz in 1998. Mother offered otherworldly glimpses into what was possible when an ambient approach was taken. The ambient opening four-minutes of the seminal Self Evident Truth of an Intuitive Mind by T.Power (released on SOUR in 1995) was pioneering. T.Power is worthy of his own article – the reviewers’ lens would be focused firmly on the synthetic string sections of Trapezium that appear and re-appear like sunlight that bathe the listener in warmth. There was the slightly lower-rpm of Black Street Technology by A Guy Called Gerald (released on Juicebox in 1995) and the lof-fi synth-wash and distorted guitars of Semtex by Third Eye Foundation (Linda’s Strange Vacation, 1995). The latter builds into the same intensity as a spaceship cockpit that tears through the mesosphere. In more times, on his Pool LP released on Ilian Tape on 7th May 2021, the trailblazing multi-disciplinarian Skee Mask infused ambience into his jungle track Testo BC Mashup. Its snare-heavy amen cuts splinteroff from dark atmospherics; this junglist tour de force continues into the lustrous Dolan Tours:the foot pedal kicks away in hypnotic cyclism – 170+rpm snares pop and pull the listener around a gentle synth melody.
Ludvig Cimbrelius, better known under his alias Illuvia, inhabits these sand-land fringes, producing an entirely ambient drum n’ bass album. Iridescence of Clouds was released on A Strangely Isolated Place on 25th January 2021. It is truly symphonic. From the opening allegro of Iridescence to the andante of the sub-bass meditations of Veil of Mist, and the syncopated and choppy scherzo of Wanderer to the concluding sonata of Sky Beyond Sky. It is as if Illuvia listened to Goldie’s Sea of Tears and decided to make a full-length album homage. A broad theme of water percolates this release. From the swathes of synths and droplets of quietly playing piano notes on Iridescence to the tear-dropping emotions of Veil of Mist and its piano flurries that cut through the sub-bass and pads to glint like sun glitter. Nirmala II is the most rhythmically complex of the movements, flitting between low-frequency breaks and higher frequency snare-driven cuts. Illuvia maintains a steady hand on the faders and holds a balanced attack ratio. The vocal samples filter through at different intervals: high-sub-bass calls personify this. It is an uplifting listen, for example, the major key melody that plays throughout Sky Beyond Sky. The rhythm has evaporated by this point. Those mid-range, personified bong- boings make a further and final appearance.
Truly innovative works such as Iridescence of Clouds are golden apples grown from the revisionist tree rather than the revivalist’s soil. Pizza Hotline dropped similar fruit in their Level Select release on Cityman Productions on 1st January 2022. This had liquid influences (EMOTION ENGINE), sustained string sections akin to 808 State (DREAMSHELL) and amen-heavy breaks (SHADOW MOSES). The latter track also features the fusion of see-sawing synths which were very typical of breakbeat of the earliest jungle. One of the album highlights is LOW POLY ROMANCE with its melodic gaming bleeps and strobing synths. The remix that accompanies the release (JAPAN NOVELTY‘S CHEAP LUXURY MIX) is very listenable. Demonic off-key synth splinter as if Noise Factory had been sedated (listen to their track My Mind released on 3rd Party in 1992); synths shimmer rather than strobe; the darkcore of sawing black keys offset a soulful influence (think Right Before by 1st Project released on Fokus UK in 1992). On revisiting ‘97 Energy by DJ Javascript, which was released on 20th February 2022, it has an incredibly erratic flow: every odd track is revivalist drum n’ bass, and the even tracks are a grab-bag of lo-fi house, techno and dubstep. He is undeniably talented and quite adept at weaving the synths, samples and breaks together to build some satisfying soundscapes. Highlights are Drifting Away and Forward Motion, both capturing Good Looking-era drum n’ bass well.
There are others who lionise the high-rpm amen in the temple of jungle yet build annexes. Perhaps this was inevitable. After the first waves of drum n’ bass came dubstep in the early-to- mid noughties. Works from Horsepower Productions, Benga and Skream were early incarnations of dubstep, likewise the sounds showcased by igneous rock-hewing labels such as Big Apple, Tempa, Amunition and Skull Disco (the latter introduced us to Shackleton and Appleblim). The Hyperdub label brought us Burial and his landmark release Untrue in 2007. Burial has since dug deeper and resides somewhere in the ambient and inky black badger-set of the ambient sub-genre (listen to the gossamer Streetlands released on the label on 21st October 2022). Djrum infuses drum n’ bass with turntablism and UK bass in releases such as Seven Lies (released on 2nd Drop Records in 2013) and Portrait With Firewood (released on the mighty R&S Records in 2018). Over the last two-years Lan Party dropped the What U Want EP, somewhat reviving an even more niche UK jungle music sub-genre: breaks. Further recent examples of this ‘in-betweenism’ are Imy From The Fruit Farm on Artificial Red’s Mystics, released on 19th November 2021 (its rhythm and bass are undoubtably jungle, yet the undeniable haze of vaporwave fumigates) and Andrea’s Due in Color, released on Ilian Tape on 23rd March 2023, which carefully crafts drum backroom rhythms that boom throughout (the granular live instrumentation is reminiscent of Spring Heel Jack’s masterful jazz-suffused Disappeared which dropped on Thirsty Ear in 2000). Nia Archives is another revisionist. Her debut LP, titled Forbidden Feelingz, released on 9th March 2022, is a totem to the soulfulness of the amen break. Ode 2 Maya Angelou is a juxtaposition of bass-heavy sub-melodies and psychedelic synths. There is Roni Size & Reprazent circa New Forms within this. She samples Angelou’s poem Still I Rise: “Up from a past rooted in pain, I rise / I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide / Welding and swelling, I bear in the tide”. The infective breakbeat rhythm and unmistakable reggae bass on 18 & Over are fused with heavily-sampled gaming effects, effortlessly, and to wonderful effect – jungle revisionism at its finest.
Revival, noun, rɪˈvaɪvl: something becoming or being made popular again [5]
Revivalism can take many forms; ultimately, it should inspire, and renew. Astrophonica, the London-based “cosmic electronic music label” spearheaded by Fracture and Neptune circa 2009, have offered two of the most exciting revivalist releases over the last few months: 0860 by Fracture on 18th November 2022 and After Life on 24th March 2023. Both are thumping shoves; but firstly, a note on Astrophonica who are unarguably at the forefront of the genre. Their lauded 2011 release Retrospect – A Decade Of Fracture & Neptune, particularly the track Colemanism, showcased the duo’s adroitness and aphorism for jungle music. They clearly have an ear for those who serve to preserve and advance the genre. They had the prolific Sully on their roster in 2015 whose track Flock was also included in APHA20 on 20th January 2020, a release, which celebrated the label’s first 20 EPs. Sully went on to self-release 5ives / Sliding on 3rd December 2021. This was a skirmish between plucked string-acoustics and heavily percussive breaks: a sword fight of the ages. Back to Fracture and 0860. It was inspired by pirate radio and is available as both a LP and mixtape. The focus here will be on the mixtape for two reasons: firstly, the interludes on the mixtape immerse the listener in the world of 1990s jungle in Greater London; secondly, the mixtape track sequence provides superior context and meaning over the LP. 0860 offers simplicity in sound. Many modern jungle-inspired releases windmill around into an electro-melee of uninspired noise (the authors reserve judgement on the false tunnels that the ‘autonomic’ and ‘microfunk’ drum n’ bass dalliances will take you down). An example of how less-is-more is preferred is the track Telepathy on the Side B of the 0860 mixtape. Deep vocal cuts (“telepathyyyyyyyyyyyyy”, drones the frequency-altered voice) work around the boings and tone-shifting bass that anchors the track. The percussive section shuffles liberally around the reverberated guitar cuts and simple two-key synth melody. The high-pitched synth cuts through the piece like white light streaking across a sunset. Having made the journey from dancehalls out west to rave venues across the UK and eventually into the bedrooms of those tuned in to pirate radio, jungle is strongest when it communicates with the listener. This human connection is felt on 0860. Random samples of various media – television, radio, news clips –are scattered throughout The Raid. I can also hear the worn cassette tape of Champion Jungle Sound (Kemet Crew, 1995). The UB40 sample was spotted on All The Massive as was the strange radio presenter’s report of what someone saw outside their front door. “Yeah ‘ello! ELLLO?????” is spoken on the Charlton Crew interlude. The yawning, crowing of cockerelsand banality of modern-day radio is sampled on the second half of mixtape (particularly First Aid Kit) imbuing the slow pace and eventual focus of a Sunday morning. The robotic chatter at the end of the track has resulted in split opinions of the authors, particularly what time-period is being referenced. Has this sound occurred when a voice message is sent to someone in the car but the internet connection fails? Mobile phones had not pervaded everyday communications back in the early-1990s – has this ruined the ‘90s immersion? Or is this a creative composite of the early-1990s source material and twenty-twenties recording? The authors of this essay remain conflicted. There are also fleeting pop-dancehall and reggaeton tracks that float by in the radio static at the end of Buzzing Crew and Booyaka Style. Another time paradox perhaps?
Fracture’s musicianship is evident throughout. Everything is considered. The growling bassline and initial slow beat of Sounds of the Rush rapidly picks up pace and barks orders to kick up your chair. The intentional drop in intensity brings the first half to a close. A similarly deliberate bridge is Alongside, which is used to transition between its preceding track (First Aid Kit) and subsequent track (Bad Traffic), slowly resetting the mood from lush to neutral. Fracture also makes references to the different sub-genres that jungle incorporates. Take the mesmeric First Aid Kit, which is an ode to the finest deep jungle impressed into wax. It could really stand alongside something put out by DJ Trace or anyone on the Good Looking roster. The first half of Kinda Late for a Sunday Night is reminiscent of Miles High by DJ Trace on the Dee Jay Recordings label. Technician on the Case has (proto)jungle and late-rave inspired hooks and cuts (Prodigy or Chrome and Time put out similar sounds in 1992/93). The more menacing side to jungle is evident on All The Massive and Booyaka Style with its sinister breakdown and build-up halfway through. One criticism of the mixtape is that selection of Blaze as its concluding track is somewhat anti-climactic. The LP version gets the sequencing right, concluding with Blaze before From the Very Top and Kinda Late for a Sunday Night. Despite this minor criticism, Fracture pulls off a masterfully crafted ode to the world of 1990s jungle, and even with the sequencing at the end being a little iffy, the authors conclude that the mixtape version offers a better listen than the LP.
After Life by Damian’s Ghost is the truer of the two releases in the junglist sense. Voices opens; it is an immerse listen. Its staggering synths beckons the listener forward. Its vocals are from recent times. Look At The Lights is more technically adept. The lithe synths build and change key. The American-accented vocal cuts harp back to the earliest origins. The beats are punchy (the cut vocals that appear in its later stages are FSOL-inspired). High Places is ambient. Its chiptune melody welcomes its first drop and harks back to Plaid’s chipper and syncopated progression of the earliest hardcore (probably 30-rpm lower) on Anything (Mbuki Mvuki BDP, 1991). 8-bit appears frequently on the Astrophonica label: listen to the futurism of Orbit on Off World Tales by sci-fi spoonerism Philip D. Kick (released on 24th February 2023). Similarly, chiptune is central to DJ Sofa’s Dilemma released on the FFF label on 31st March 2023. The drum cuts and chops come at you quickly; defenceless, the listener can do nothing other than accept the rhythmic onslaught. Perhaps inspired by the snare work of Omni Trio on The Deepest Cut (Candidate Records, 1993), the leading rhythmicity of High Places is placed firmly on the snare. Simplicity once again reigns supreme on Into the Night. The 8-bit resurfaces. Its vocals are less distinct. The synths wash over the listener just like they did on his 26th November 2021 release All I Remember / On The Mist.
0860 and After Life are glass bridges that take us back to the very earliest hallmarks of jungle. They are simple, transparent and composite. They both serve to revive. In the album credits of After Life, Fracture states that Damien’s Ghost is “Vangelis meets Jungle”. This describes his synchronicity. Both Fracture and Damien’s Ghost are champions of jungle of old. They also offer insights into drum n’ bass of the future. Revivalists – yes; but better still: these forward- looking archivists are dynamic. It is this dynamism that will keep jungle and drum n’ bass playing into future times. Amen to that.
References
1. James M. State of Bass: Jungle – The Story So Far. Boxtree: Macmillan; 1997
2. Oxford Learner’s Dictionary. Preservation. 2023
3. Oxford Learner’s Dictionary. Revision. 2023
4. https://xlr8r.com/features/ask-the-experts-ltj-bukem/
5. Oxford Learner’s Dictionary. Revival. 2023
Thanks again to the authors Andrew C. Kidd and Ross Perry.
Monthly Playlist: April 2023: Circe, Micall Parknsun, Suki Sou, Carla Boregas, Ammar 808…
April 27, 2023
CHOICE MUSIC FROM THE LAST MONTH: TEAM EFFORT
The Monthly Revue playlist of 2023; a choice selection of tracks from the last month on the blog. Curated by Dominic Valvona with Matt Oliver on the Rap Control once more, and music from reviews by our latest recruit Gillian Stone plus Brian ‘Bordello’ Shea, Graham Domain and a returning Andrew C. Kidd. Expect to hear the unexpected as we leave you with this 45 track selection before we go off on a May sabbatical (well half of May, be back around the 15th with a packed schedule of choice music).
TRACKLIST//
Altın Gün ‘Çıt Çıt Çedene’
Ammar 808 Ft. Belhassen Mihoub ‘Yarima’
Les Abranis ‘Achethkhi’
Orti, Mayorga y Chiriboga ‘Muñequita Blanca’
Tuzeint ‘Mujer Divina’
United Grind Ft. Gamechangers ‘Doin This All Night’
King Kashmere & Alecs DeLarge ‘Most Blunted’
Neon Kittens ‘Loving Your Neighbour’s Wife’
Opus Kink ‘1:18’
Gabrielle Ornate ‘Delirium’
H. Hawkline ‘Plastic Man’
Land Of OOO ‘Matthew’
African Head Charge ‘A Bad Attitude’
Swans ‘Paradise Is Mine’
The Oldest Voice In The World ‘Talysh Mountain Border’
La Faute ‘The Crown’
fhae ‘Love You’
Alice ‘Triste et tout seul’
foil ‘Don’t Look’
Ali Murray ‘Spirit Of Unknowing’
Khotin ‘Lovely’
MultiTraction Orchestra ‘Reactor One’
Tobias Meinhart ‘Luna Park’
Deca & Ol’ Burger Beats ‘Blight’
Prastense & Shortrock Ft. Uncommon Nasa ‘A Broken Letter’
Micall Parknsun ‘Back’
Your Old Droog ‘Pronouns’
Illinformed Ft. Eric The Red ‘Doctor’
Silver Moth ‘Sedna’
Escupemetralla ‘Several specimens of ruminant animals with large udders chewing grass in a Cambridge meadow’
Sweeney ‘High School Damage’
Ale Hop & Laura Robles ‘Son de los diablos’
Cornelius Corvidae ‘Silver Flower’
James Howard ‘The Reckoning’
Draag ‘Mitsuwa’
Mike Cale ‘Slow Club’
Suki Sou ‘Petrichor’
Issei Herr ‘Aria’
Carla Boregas ‘A Cidade doe Outros’
Simon McCorry ‘Halcyon Fire’
CIEL ‘Somebody’
Tomato Flower ‘Destroyer’
Cindy ‘Earthly Belonging’
Circe ‘Riot Of Sunlight’
Chloe Gallardo ‘Bloodline’
Monolith Cocktail Blog 