Radio signals interfere and bleed through carrying messages from the past and future, interacting with special alchemy on tracks that range from creepily chill to pregnant with late-night energy.
Launching off deliriously distorted kicks and snares disguising a sneaky acid line that cranks up and descends and bounces around like a hyper elastic ball inside a broken washing machine, theres an undeniable underlying funkiness here that is hard to manufacture.
The shining rave stabs do a 180 from well-worn classic skittish breakbeat territory to something so different it seems that the record might have skipped, a liquified gargle of sounds breaking through like line noise from some Take Us To Your Leader extrasolar radio station. The transmission continues with the quasar like tinkles of interstellar coms signals and the muted kicks of ‘Flip’, which sounds like something an LGM might meditate to in hyperbaric stasis imagining the design plans for some future Class I civilization orbiting a supermassive black hole. As it picks up speed, taxic stimulants designed for a being raised on mercury vapor enter the bloodstream and invigorate these parsec-pooped pilots into action. An unstable and constantly adapting terrain is maintained by these inquisitive, chilling moments of metallic sonic shock.
The super low rumbling kick and glitchy synth line take the energy to another level. A false gravity field is activated, the autonomous guidance systems detecting a hostile asteroid belt and performing evasive action. The production chugs along with almost menacing, creepy instability; hats and shakers overwhelmed by high energy fuscia noise. The kick teases but does not dominate, allowing abscura to dominate the saturated transmission spectra. There’s a charming Detroitian jazzy energy there, too, but one shot through with organic growls of rippling synth.
There’s even some sparse, minimal influence on hesitant acid jams like “Time Slips” where the electrocuted buzz of the bass alone slices through some higher than the usual octaves of arpeggiated electro. Some careening and aggressively EQ’ed chirps of foreign material skip along a snare-driven drum pattern, helped along by resonant and spooky voices as the radio transmissions try one last time in vain to break through.
-Winston Mann
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