Somewhere Press Vinyl, CD & Tape 2 Items

Alliyah Enyo’s genius 2022 ‘Echo's Disintegration’ album infused William Basinski's "Disintegration Loops" with choral smoke, and she now returns with an even more immersive followup alongside ambient enigma and Kelela producer Florian T M Zeisig, making heady and translucent loop-finding vocal soundscapes tipped if you’re into Grouper, Cucina Povera, Seefeel, Julianna Barwick, or Selected Ambient Works II’s frozen dream-weaving.

In 2022, Enyo worked with the Edinburgh Sculpture Workshop on an epic two-hour composition made from tape loops inspired by selkies, mythical creatures in Celtic folklore. Contemplating memory, grief and time itself, Enyo devised a "sonorous myth" installation and performance that drowned her voice in the deep sea, using echo to help parallel the communication of humpback whales. It was powerful enough for her to net the award for Sonic Arts at the Scottish Awards for New Music last year, and it's this material that she revisits here, entering into a dialog with Berlin-based producer Florian T M Zeisig, here adopting a new avatar - Angel R.

On the A-side, Enyo distills two hours of the original composition into 11 haunted fragments that ooze in and out of each other like a dream. Reworked at Glasgow's Green Door studio, she sculpts her voice into weightless Radigue-style incantations, leaning into the tape loops' corroded inconsistencies. Enyo's voice becomes the selkie's song: wordless echoes that sound as if they're being dragged slowly towards the sea bed. There are remnants of folk forms in there; we hear traces of church music and Celtic ballads - but she obscures her influences with dubbed reverb, distortion and repetition. Phrases disappear and re-appear, time becomes a loop, best absorbed in a single sitting to properly perceive its graceful, sinking bliss. By the end of the side, Enyo’s vocals are completely waterlogged, dimmed against Robin Guthrie-like shimmers, all brassy, blurred incantations emanating from the depths of a floatation tank.

Florian T M Zeisig responds on the B-side with three flooded, longer-form pieces that will appeal to anyone who devoured his album of corroded Enya loops a couple of years ago. Enyo's voice is now reduced to a whisper, blistered and gauzy expressions that float over dense pads on 'Untitled I' before getting lost in the weeds completely on the muggy 'Untitled II'. On the closing 'Gates of Heaven', he sculpts Enyo's voice until it's just an illusory, hypnotic reflection, slow-fading into the aether.

The polyrhythmic pulse of the natural world surges through Byrd’s productions, and though the sounds are mostly electronic and strictly metered, a landscape teeming with insects, birds, and wildlife fills the horizon. We’re languidly ushered through the gates on the opening ‘Enlightened Smudge on the Machine’, juxtaposing glassy tones with flute (from Berlin-based sound artist Diane Barbé) and skittering percussion that could have been lifted straight off Björk’s ‘Vespertine’. “No traffic, under the stem,” a stoic voice muses while sounds dissolve into waterlogged ambience. There are hints of vintage West Coast new age music, but Byrds’ over- arching theme is one of a contemporary digital reality slowly harmonising with its distant, bucolic past. Field recordist Pablo Diserens provides some of the album’s most arcane material, handing over environmental recordings of sulphur pools, Arctic terns and glacial streams. The lengthy ‘Divine Morpho, Shimmering’ deploys a swarm of insects, forming a looped, uneven rhythm that counters Byrd’s pulsing electronics. Choral stems mesh with uncanny strings, blurring the line that separates artificial from organic sound sources. Byrd uses mutation and reconstruction as a form of “speculative melting” to bring us closer to utopia. On ‘Like Phantom Memories In The Slinking Storm’, one of the album’s most levitational moments, they tease twangy harp-lyre plucks into dubbed-out smudges, eventually given a reprise on ‘Grief Rituals’ where the same riffs are stretched into slower phrases, queered against giddy, xenharmonic drones. Bird calls and tremulous exotica mark the brilliant ‘Fragrant Dusking’, and ‘Soft Body Virisdescence’ takes us to a gurgling, kaleidoscopic climax, with electronic processes thrust into the foreground. ‘Of Data & Delight’ distills all the album’s sonic elements into a sort of delirious fever dream, using pitched animal calls to signal sensuality. It’s not ambient, exactly, even if it shares space with the 3XL crew’s sludgy eroticism, and it’s not wholeheartedly electro-acoustic either. The record exists at a place of convergence, as one era wrestles with a new dawn, and real life glimpses high fantasy.