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thesunlounge · 5 years

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Reviews 263: Benjamin Lew

Every retrospective release on STROOM tells a story and one of my favorite yet comes via Benjamin Lew’s Le personnage principal est un peuple isolé. In this case, STROOM transports us to 80s Brussels and a loose community of musical expats that were perhaps enticed to Belgium by labels such as Les Disques du Crépuscule, Factory Benelux, and Marc Hollander’s Crammed Discs. A meeting place within this creative scene was a tropically themed bar called Le Papaya, which employed author, poet, and generous creative vessel Benjamin Lew…a “enlightened amateur” in the words of Hollander who came to music rather nefariously, having no interest in the form until stealing some records from a local shop in his youth. Of course, renaissance man as he is, Lew at some point developed a passion for analog synthesis, using the daylight hours, his electronics, and an 8-track recorder borrowed from Hollander to explore ancient African cosmologies and Arabian desert fantasies. He began bringing his tapes into Le Papaya and passing them on to the resident musicians, which led to a rich partnership with Tuxedomoon, especially Steven Brown. After shifts at the bar, Lew would return to his apartment with Brown, giving him free reign to color the taped synthesizer compositions with saxophone and keys…a process that eventually involved Gilles Martin and Hollander as well, resulting in Lew’s debut album: Douzième journée: le verbe, la parure, l’Amour, released in 1982 on Crammed Discs.

But it is the period following this album that STROOM is concerned with on Le personnage principal est un peuple isolé, which collects together tracks from 1986’s A propos d’un paysage (also written with Brown and including Vini Reilly), Nebka from 1988, Le parfum du raki from 1993, and a curious collaboration with Samy Birnbach of Minimal Compact called When God Was Famous that married Lew’s enigmatic compositions to Birnbach’s evocative readings of poetry from Yeats, Hesse, Apollinaire, Patchen, and many other famous poets from across America and Europe. As always, label head Ziggy Devriendt has assembled from these albums a weird and wonderful collection of songs and arranged them into a wholly unique journey, one that ignores temporal borders and instead attempts to strike at the very heart of Lew’s magical and collaborative sonic world. Across the twelve tracks, we hear chamber ensembles playing from the sea floor, exotic lounge jazz emanating from shadowy clubs at the edge of time, sea shanty horn minimalism and Afro-idiophonics, spiritual ragas beamed in from alien dimensions, ambient liquids dripping within crystal caverns, dramatic spoken word flowing above dark industrial lullabies, scraped string riffs wandering beneath fourth world flutes, and choirs of distortion singing above wandering pianos and glimmering chimes…all led by Lew’s otherworldly synthesizer, the imaginative production of Martin, and the clarinets, keys, and drums of Hollander.

Benjamin Lew - Le personnage principal est un peuple isolé (STROOM, 2019) “Profondeurs des eaux des laques” features lazily flowing guitar arpeggios from Vini Reilly that remind me of The Durutti Columns “All That Love and Maths Can Do” while Steven Brown uses clarinet and soprano sax to weave deep earth mysticisms and layers of opium den ambiance, with occasional emotive bends into the feverish night. Lew enters with aquatic pings and deep sea refractions…his soft electro-pulsations coalescing with the reed instruments and guitars to create a mysterious underwater landscape. “Moments” follows with space bubbles sequenced into an exotica waltz and layered horns moaning in desperation. Brown traces melancholia spirals high in the sky on clarinet and a jazz rhythm emerges from the ether, with Alain Lefebvre’s tapped rides and brushed snares locking into a daydream glide. Lew’s electronic evoke plucked string instruments from alien planets and Hollander adds a touch of synthesis, with ascendent Afro-jazz melodies sourced from synthetic brass. The title track is built around world percussion hypnotics from Gilles Martin while Renaud Pion and Michel Berckmans evoke a small scale orchestra of woodwinds and reeds moving through mystic motions. Denis Moulin’s sky-seeking violin performance recalls the ecstatic folk ragas of Henry Flynt and the air is colored through by chanting voices, fluttering horn solos, and wavering tremolo breaths as ethnological drums merge completely with Lew’s percolating synthesis…the whole thing like a soundtrack for a robed caravan of desert sages marching in unison beneath a blood red moon.

“Face a ce qui se derobe” is dominated by the clarinets and saxophones of Brown and Hollander, which periodically wash over a disturbing panorama of cosmic chimes, rapid motion synth trails, and polyrhythmic pad layers creating strange swirling vortices. The woodwinds lock into slow motion and slightly drunken trance patterns that align with the contemporaneous work of Yasuaki Shimizu while also presaging the guttural sax spells of Colin Stetson. And Reilly is supposedly somewhere in the mix on guitar, though he’s impossible to discern…so alien are Lew’s electronics and so overwhelming are the cycling reed hallucinations. The exotica of “Qu’il fosse suit” sees electronics mimicking birds of paradise as kalimbas and balafons play minimalist spirituals for an African sunrise. Rainforest hand drums weave shambolic polyrhythms while Tuxedomoon’s Blaine L. Reininger soars to transcendental heights on violin and as in the previous track, dazzling woodwind patterns drift through the mix, though here moving in round, with layers sourced from Hollander’s clarinet flowing ear-to-ear and dreamily overlapping…his bubbling runs giving way to gaseous drones and then repeating. “The Wheel” is one of two pieces featuring Samy Birnbach’s poetry readings, and here Lew’s synths and Peter Principle’s guitars background a double-tracked and pained reading of W.B. Yeats’ “The Tower.” Bass throbs, feedback wisps, scraped starshine textures, and bell-tone modulations sit above glowing reverb metals and there’s a kinship with Current 93, though more so Tibet’s later explorations of pagan neo-folk and dream psychedelia.

The second Lew and Birnbach collaboration is “Little Birds Sit on Your Shoulder,” which floats upon the springtide cellos of Aurelia Boven. Her themes for fairy flower forests are accompanied by Lew’s silvery electronics and liquid space glitters…all setting the stage for Birnbach’s reading of a poem from Kenneth Patchen, though no longer delivered in a desperate swoon, but instead clearly spoken and apathetic. “Etendue” hearkens back to Lew’s early experiments accompanying his one-off Fossile fanzine, as warbling and wavering tape loops featuring choral arias are smothered in burning smoke. Majestic voices sing together…their waves of heavenly power washing side to side while Brown wanders through it all on piano, with beauteous chordscapes and fantasy dream strands. Lew adds further tape layers featuring wild laughter and whispered conversations that slowly wash out the choirs and all the while, the pianos grow in intensity. Black hole vapors flow in from the void in “Ces Personnages” while machines communicate with spirits of the cosmos. New age sequences swim through oceanic dream worlds, wisps of galactic light wrap around quivering feedback textures, and searing fuzz leads scream through ethereal hazes of blue, with everything supported by bass synths floating on unseen currents. There’s a connection with the underwater galaxy explorations of ÆOLUS and Iury Lech, though it’s all interspersed by the moaning reed and brass spiritualisms of Pion and Luc Van Lieshout…these skronking and slow motion atmospheres of New Orleans jazz transmuted into a funereal drift.

Aside from treatments by Martin, “Joyeux regrets imprécis” is a Lew solo adventure, with electronics evoking chimes and gemstones gently colliding and decaying through gaseous fx. Synthesized pianos lock into mesmeric sequences, mermaids weave joyous siren songs, and ominous bass pulses and soothing percussive clacks float through the mix, with the music once again touching on the darker and more exploratory shades of new age. Though Lew contorts his synths into many unbelievable forms across this collection, his work in “Hommes assis devant un mur chaulé” is truly mystifying, as electronics evoke Afro-psych guitars and electrified Middle Eastern string instruments, only as if reduced to a shamanic trance. Wiggling scrapes and glissando runs are interspersed between an esoteric riff out and flutey leads work over top, all fragile, spacey, and vaporous. Choirs are smeared into a shadow panorama, Arabian symphonies play desert incantations, and as things progress, there’s the overwhelming sense of galloping camelback across some infinite expanse of sand and desolation. Closing track “La magnifique alcoolique” is named after a patron of Le Papaya…a mysterious woman into alcohol and maybe “other things” who Lew avoided for fear of being pulled into her dark world. Musically, sampled pianos shamble through a hallucinogenic procession, almost harp-like and playful, though washed over by tones of sadness. Peter Principle’s e-bow guitars sing out alongside Martins ethno-drums, with layers of sustaining and reversing psychedelia swimming within smoldering clouds of bass distortion.

(images from my personal copy)

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thesunlounge · 6 years

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Reviews 207: Pablo’s Eye

My first encounter with the music of Axel Libeert and his frequent collaborators Marie Mandi and Thierry Royo came through Music From Memory’s stunning Uneven Paths compilation, which opened with the atmospheric seaside ambiance and flowing lyricisms of Nightfall in Camp’s “Cada Dia.” And though this track was an easy stand-out from a compilation overflowing with incredible music, I had little idea to what degree its creators would come to dominate my life over the course of the next year. As it turns out, Nightfall in Camp was but a prelude to Pablo’s Eye, Axel’s longstanding esoteric sound collective that I was first introduced to through STROOM’s Spring Break compilation, specifically the track “Amb 7.” I was instantly ensnared by the sonic dreamworlds of hallucinogenic beauty and in the short time it took for STROOM to release their second Pablo’s Eye set entitled Bardo for Pablo, I had taken as deep dive into the collective’s extensive and eclectic back catalog, soaking up every piece of enigmatic and mystical sound art that I could find. It was a wonderful journey through realms of enveloping minimalist drone collages, spiritual ambient experimentations, heart-wrenching post-classical string meditations, drugged up dub rituals, 90s chill-out psychedelia, jazz fusion adventures, spoken word esoterica, and so much else besides…basically some of my favorite styles and shades of music ever all coming together in way that is spiritually kin to the early outputs of Kranky and Constellation Records. And at the start of 2019, STROOM and Pablo’s Eye finally completed their immense reissue series with the spellbinding and mysterious Dark Matter.

For these collections, label head Ziggy Devriendt relies on his sorcerous ability to sift through an artist’s history, pick idiosyncratic and often unheard gems, and weave them together into a definitive yet wholly unique tapestry and the curative work across these three compilations is among his best, with the individual releases allowing him to shine a light on distinct subspaces within the Pablo’s Eye universe. Spring Break pulls most heavily from 1991’s Barcelona (Architects Of)” and 1995’s You Love Chinese Food and thus finds the band exploring pop-leaning balearica, seaside fusion, and hypnotic trance states. Bardo for Pablo, on the other hand, features some never before released studio explorations of abstract jungle rhythms, tribal drum exotica, and dub delay madness while also bringing together two of the groups most epic club cuts, as the breakbeat majesty of “Amb 8” flows into the cosmic ecstasy of “Prepare for the Others to Follow (N.Y. Cypher Mix).” Then for Dark Matter, Ziggy mines Devotions (1992), All She Wants Grows Blue (1998), Realismo (1999), and once again, You Love Chinese Food. Given that these albums in part source Spring Break, it’s remarkable how different Dark Matter is in sound and vibe, as it sees the band journeying through shadowy cloudrealms of spectral drone and unsettling kosmische. And tying the whole collection together is Richard Skinner, the visionary writer and frequent Pablo’s Eye collaborator whose words and poetry adorn each release and provide powerful textual accompaniments to the far-out sonic dreamscapes.

Pablo’s Eye - Spring Break (STROOM, 2018) “Blind and Quiet” is introduced by ritualistic kicks and hypnotizing loops built from cosmic sub-bass currents. Cut-up drones of liquid silver fly all around and eventually, the fried electro-fractals give way to angelic atmospheres. Heavily effected string instruments morph through delirious delays in “Double Language” and lead to blissed out passages of new age beauty. Hushed cloud movements of blurred light background otherworldly prayer calls and Marie Mandi’s narcotic voice…her spiritual intonations and enchanting incantations flowing above smeared out waveforms and rattling percussive tones bouncing thought rapid-fire echoes. The ethereal beauty of an outerspace mermaid choir is contrasted by disturbing religious samples and we eventually climax with a passage of breathtaking transcendence, as Patrick Hanappier let’s loose a funeral violin folk song over dark piano bass textures and feverish siren songs and to these ears, his playing has a deep kinship with Sophie Trudeau’s on the first GY!BE album. And after all of this, we end with a carnivalesque passage of bleary pan-pipes and backwards sliding orchestrations. “La Pedrera” follows with glassy guitar chords and dreamy harmonic arpeggiations. Spacious bass pulses join Dirk Wachtelear’s ride cymbal for a swaying jazz groove with airs of Badalamenti and Twin Peaks. Marie’s hypnotizing spoken word patterns join in as the downbeat heroin jazz vibes are accentuated by scatting trumpets and hazy synth leads and towards the end, the track evolves into a beautiful trumpet showcase wherein Gino Lattuca’s gorgeous brass webs are joined by crystalline guitar chords.

“That Night Together with Her” begins with a heartfelt violin meditation wherein bowed melodies cut the difference between hypnotic minimalism and folk Americana in a way that evokes Henry Flynt. Amorphous echo-guitars generate futuristic drone tapestries before giving way to a cut-up panorama of reversing cymbals that sound like the fluttering wings of a metallic bird. Sparse kicks and meditative bass pulses induce a spiritual jazz drift and eventually harmonious clouds of swelling guitar join in while Patrick tugs at the heartstrings with his breathtaking violin runs. And as the track ends, pastoral guitar wanderings and vaporous synths background the violin before it all gives way to beachside field recordings. Then in “Otis (Rumours of Rain),” we smash cut into a dreamworld of ambient fusion, with jamming e-piano chords riding alongside scatting synth riffs. Dirk’s rimshots and cymbals hold down a flowing pulse that’s always on the verge of exploding while Thierry’s smokey guitars vibe out with sliding licks and liquid riffs. Aquatic synths leads and bass textures float as Gino’s trumpet journeys through the sky and during a swooning coda, ghostly hazes and guitar harmonics background mournful horn flights. “El Barrio Gótico” sees noir shrouded guitar arpeggiations overlying moaning voices of desperation. Majestic and shadowy string orchestrating give way to terrifying streaks of bowed noise while the electronic hi-hats, sparse tom fills, industrial snare smashes, and stuttering kicks lock into a hypno-pulse. All the while, wild distorted leads blasts in and fry the mind…like anthemic stadium-sized 80s synths twisted into sonic fire.

“Amb 7,” starts with looping voices and spectral clouds swirling around heart-wrenching violin runs. Things change drastically as a fractured tribal rhythms flash side to side, creating a heady glide through dark dream realms where the voices of shadow spirit entrance the mind. Subaqueous bass swells sit deep in the mix while shakers give further propulsion to the mysterious sound flows and warm guitar solos encircle the mind with jazzy runs of cosmic melancholia. There’s a moment where most of the atmospheric elements vaporize into air, leaving the toms to pound away until fluttering and ecstatic violin solos enter…sounding as if beamed in from another dimension…while all around the organic grooves resume their march through a futuristic jungle. The Henry Flynt connections return once again, though it sounds as if he has been transported to a faraway realm of electro-cosmic energy as crazed violin explosions soar over the zoned out drum ceremonials before it all ends with a soft outro of pitter-patter tom play and guitars dropping from a golden sky. “A Long Standing Dream” exists in a world of harsh phasing cymbals and euphoria drone waves emanating from an ocean of light. It’s dissonant yet purifying, as strands of feedback wrap around Dirk’s percolating tom patterns and breathy cymbal pulses. Everything slowly phases and mutates while all around, psychedelic synth bubbles and sci-fi pads bounce on heatwave currents, cascading echoes wrap around everything, gentle oscillations ride on etherwaves, and layered metal taps and hissing tambourines give the mystical rhythms further shape.

Pablo’s Eye - Bardo for Pablo (STROOM, 2018) “Amb 8” is the epic sequel to “Amb 7” and starts with choppy waves of gorgeous sonic bliss moving back and forth across four-four kicks and rattling shakers. Dial-tone sequences bathed in cosmic mist snake through the air and as dubwise snares crack in one ear, their reverb shrouded delay trails diffuse in the other. Liquid mid-bass sequences join the sci-fi dance, simultaneously tracking the dial-tone synths and playing off the echosnares while factory industrialisms intertwine with interstellar jungle mysticisms. The same hypnotizing voice loops that appear in “Amb 7” are also here floating through the air and at some point, swelling self-oscillatory chaoswaves overtake the mix as the kick recedes, leaving the militant shakers to fly above swinging exotica basslines, mesmeric toms flows, and synth sequences mimicking intergalactic cyborg breaths. Then in a moment of pure inspired magic, a mammoth breakbeat fades in, all baggy 90s glory moving through swirling metallic fogs and mind-wrapping sequences for an extended and drugged out groove. As the entrancing voices return, they bring with them overwhelming clouds of rotating sonic light that eventually wash out the breaks and reveal a haunted passage of drone built from ascendent yet ominous color pulses, streaking synth smears, and obscured voices. The rest of the track is like a dream recollection of what came before, as funky basslines, circling toms, euphoria breaks, and splattering kicks all intermingle within an alien rainforest suffused with darkness, one where neon plants glow with strange energies and distant drum rituals vibrating from unseen origins.

In 1996, Pablo’s Eye released the Prepare for the Others to Follow single containing various far-out remixes and reworks of the exotically dubbed out drum’n’bass title track, an easy stand out of which was the “Cypher NY Mix.” A sub-bass hum rings out from the center of the universe, its inky black waves of immersive sonic warmth suffused through by sparkling feedback textures…as if luminescent insects have been transmuted into sound. Heady tom-tom melodies bounce through echo caverns while harsh filter fx, ultra-crushed drum smashes, and cosmic winds move all around. Crystalline reverb fluids drop into glowing pools and the sense of floating euphoria is carried further by a drugged out beat that fades in from oceanic depths…a loved up and emotional break soaring on paradise waves. It’s easy to get lost in the swooning chill-out room hypnotics, as snares decay through infinite sheets of reverb, universal bass hums float the spirit towards realms of ecstasy, and ghosts of memory howl at the edges of the mix. The following track “Today” sees shadowy drum’n’bass rhythms charging through a panoramic world of delay madness while throbbing bass pulsations chug into the darkness. Clattering drum cascades roll endlessly as longform panning fx hypnotize the mind and there are almost no transitions…just murky beat and bass loops repeating until the entrance snake rattles and palm-muted guitar percolations. And eventually the rhythms pull away, leaving wavering strings to blast through the sky as rattlesnake motions and metallic pings grow into walls of oscillatory chaos.

“My Only Guide Is” features hallucinatory and rattle-heavy drum storms that obscure sliding liquid melodics. Delays morph and modulate everything with occasional forays in to self-oscillating psychedelia and as the overwhelming bass clouds recede, tom-toms and hand drums merge for mystical rhythm ceremonies where bells and tambourines shake and sparkle. The rest of the track spends its time cutting back and forth between various extra-terrestrial drum rituals, with snake charmer bass fluids, charging tribal cascades, and rainforest energies overflowing with wild and rapturous magic as chimes and shakers wrap the soul in colorful sound spirals. Wild beat layers falling over themselves, anxious double-time hats, bouncing dub echoes, and marching ceremonies scrambled into alien chaosclouds…this is “Self-Abandonment.” Elsewhere, unidentifiable rattling noises flow aside cosmic chirps and satellite transmissions…the vibe militant and mind-melting, powerful and propulsive…especially as clacking snare rolls fire side to side. Motorik textures give further shape to the crazed drum adventures while also allowing them to spread even further out into realms of hysteria and as the track progresses, everything seems to filter and pan while growing increasingly fractured and kaleidoscopic. “I Have No Other Compass” closes Bardo for Pablo with sickly pads wavering in the moonlight. It’s the world as reflected through the surface of a disturbed body of liquid, with overlapping layers creating feedback resonances, bodies of ether spinning uncontrollably, and heart-throb melodies transmuting across universes.

Pablo’s Eye - Dark Matter (STROOM, 2019) In “Worship & Passion,” sinister high-frequency drones evoking classical horror film music are swarmed around by echoing voices, disorienting bass textures, mournful violin fantasias, and jeweled webs of plucked guitar harmonics. Marie intones “floating down the river…to paradise” among other softly spoken lines of poetry while synthetic choirs rush in from the depths alongside atonal acoustic string slides, sampled speech, and Patrick’s aching viol streaks. Then in “More Hesitant Than Before,” looping dronewaves of string cacophony spin through the sky alongside oscillating echoes. Long deliberate bow strokes repeat endlessly while ominous atmospheres boil underneath and the vibe is like awakening impossibly far beneath the surface of the sea…no light, no sound…just unsettling, almost malevolent currents surrounding the body and hinting at unseen intelligences and unknowable animal forms. Phasing fx and psychedelic pans lull the mind into a trance as viscous bodies of black light wash over the soul and towards the end, rumbling percussive drones enter…like the fading shadow of some ritualistic tribal ceremony.

“Different Observers” has shades of “Prepare for the Others to Follow” as toms ping-png through a deep space corridor. Twitching reverb fx are locked into pulsating rhythms alongside sub-bass kicks and murky voices are smeared into a drug haze as they flash into and out of existence. An alien muezzin calls out from a minaret in the center of an eternal desert expanse while up above, clouds of green and blue swarm amongst the stars. The massive kicks, mutating cymbals, and percolating toms grow ever louder while the voices become increasingly shrouded in dense of fogs of reverb and towards the end, fast motion melodic drum tones rolling through outerspace echoboxes overlay gigantic reverb blasts…like a bass drum heard from miles below the surface of the earth. “She Would Stand Alone” sees deep and discordant bass notes wrapping around vibrating strings of metal…as if a piano has been gutted and transformed into some sort of ritualistic mallet instrument. And all around, droning cymbal taps like falling pebbles on infinite sheets of brass flow forwards and backwards in time.

A spiritual bath of radiant drone begins “He Closed His Eyes” before leading to a clattering and shambolic rhythm. Tin can percussion and wavering music box melodies are surrounded by glimmering streaks of audial silver and deep space atmospherics while spectacular reverb tails hover in place and vibrate with a sense of alien electricity. The barely there drum flow is accented by chain-off snare smashes and at some point, the very same looped and reversed voices from both “Amb 7” and “Amb 8” appear here as well, forming a subtle sonic thread weaving together all three parts of the Pablo’s Eye retrospective. The A-side the ends with “When You Were Asleep,” which offers a mental cleansing by way of spectral waves of new age shimmer and forms a direct contract to the preceding explorations of mystical darkness. Heavenly ambient washes are colored around the edges by narcotizing distortion smears and beneath it all, throbbing bass currents drift the spirit on a universal river of light.

“L.A. Desert” opens the B-side with Dark Matter’s first real semblance of rhythm, seeing cymbal taps, sparse kicks, and bubbling bass notes bringing more of that Badalamenti-style noir jazz. Marie glides over top with enigmatic dreamspell lyricisms while island bongos, synth blasts, and smokey fusion leads dance together. Exotic and unidentifiable voice samples drift above crystalline Rhodes chords and everything works together towards a downtempo drug sway. But as things progress, the vibe turns shadowy…almost funereal, and keeps Marie repeating “I’ve lost sense of hearing / dying couldn’t be worse”…a sentiment that is terrifying and all too relatable. Gaseous synths swell alongside diamond sound bursts as cosmic organs weave heavenly hymns and all the while, the vocals grow increasingly pleading…desperate…afraid. Thunder crashes and spring reverb flashes then begin “She Told Him The News,” while distorted voices cycle over ominous orchestrations and psychoactive drum ceremonies swirl in a vortex and sometimes recede completely into the maelstrom of droning noise.

“Tamil Nadu” features emotive contrabass soloing and fiery saxophones from Geoff Leigh…like the score of a detective movie abstracted into pure mood. Body-subsuming bass textures and spaced out electronics wash all around as massive rumbling sub-bass noises approximate thunderstorms. Elsewhere, the brass and bass scat through a nightmare land of jazz hysteria and it all ends with bowed double bass vapors drifting into pale starlight. After this, “A Pagan Use” builds on mysterious voices emanating from unknown dimensions that intertwine, merge, and create ghostly resonances. Electro-kicks bounce and mutate through cosmic echo-chains, static transmissions hover just beyond comprehension and at some point, tom-toms enter and skip across reverb coated bass pulses. Once the shadowclouds recede, they leave the drums to vibe out within heavily distorted voice broadcasts and as the ominous atmospherics swell back in, they gyrate and combust over sensual rhythmic throbs.

The dub side of Pablo’s Eye is showcased most overly on Dark Matter’s final two tracks, starting with “Out of the Corner of Her Eye.” Here, pounding and swamped out machine riddims crash through ethereal drone vapors. Globules of liquid bass rise up through viscous neon pools…their delirious patterns locking into a strange yet entrancing groove aside the swaggering rhythm boxes. Cymbals and snares fire off in a hypnotic dance while further horror film string drones wrap around the mix and voices seem to emanate from unseen corners of the mind…childlike and all the more disturbing because of it. Shuffling shaker and cymbal patterns enters, all anxious and futuristic, and the track evolves in a heady IDM ritual while terrify ambient clouds move in slow circles. Then in “Loisaida Dub,” celestial brass melodies are smeared into bodies of white light and repeated waves of mystical magic ebb and flow. Chaotic weavings of percussive psychedelia intersperse the rapturous walls of sound…these blipping laser clouds of sci-fi noise, intergalactic fx, and chittering insect laughter that contract the meditative pulses that work the mind towards transcendence. It’s a push/pull between blissful euphoria and psychoactive drone chaos…one that perfectly embodies the entire spirit of this mercurial group of artists.

(images from my personal copies)

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