Downbeat | Electronica | Leftfield 317 Items

Drapizdat is the umbrella banner for Russian producer Vladislav Godzevich’s rogue gallery of musical identities. Its name derives from a fusion of samizdat (illegally reproduced publications of censored materials within repressive regimes) and drap (slang for marijuana; an early beat music alias was Papa Drap), which aptly evokes his ethos of covert altered state transmissions. МИФ presents a constellation of tracks spanning five projects, four years, and 73-minutes; taken together it fully delivers on the hidden acronym of its title: M = music, И = elected, Ф = fragments [combined = ‘Myth’].

Each entity spelunks its own vibrant catacomb: Сам Себе Па (“tropical industrial 5th world dada”), Ито Кумаре (“metaphysical ambient music”), Jeans Escape (rhythmic liberations from reality), Reather Weport (“free form music of the spheres, vibrations beyond the universal caves”), Drapula (“black moon feasts on the blood of soul and funk”), Клаксон Гансон (“psychedelic ethno-mutant punk”).

Godzevich describes his process as a metamorphosis, created at night, “with minimal light.” Percolating loops of percussion, texture, and melody, summoned into warped trances of alien grace. Elements align and obscure like celestial phenomena half-glimpsed, half-dreamed: “I plunge deeper and deeper to gather golden sand from the bottom of time and show it to the world, building islands in this dilapidated world.”

Ylia—aka Susana Hernández—had a remarkably productive 2020. In addition to releasing her debut album, Dulce Rendición, on Barcelona’s Paralaxe Editions, she penned compilation tracks for Lapsus Records, Hivern Discs, and Super Utu/Stars on Earth.

But professional success can be deceiving: The following year was, personally speaking, terrible. Her grandfather died. Her father died. Her cat died. And she ended a relationship. “That’s a lot of things all at once, no?” she says.

Her second album, Ame Agaru, is not necessarily a record of that year, but it is, she says, a response to those life events—a record of grief.

The new album is clearly a continuation of the ambient investigations of Ylia’s debut, but it differs in key ways. Where Dulce Rendición was exploratory and faintly cosmic, Ame Agaru—a Japanese phrase meaning, roughly, “the rain lifts”— captures a melancholy sense of stillness. And where her debut was largely electronic, on the new album, Ylia has folded in a number of acoustic elements, even when they are not recognizable as such. Her partner, Alejandro Lévar, lends fingerpicked acoustic guitar to the glowing dronescapes of “Todos los Cuerpos”; multi-instrumentalist and bandleader Tete Leal adds flutes, clarinet, and soprano saxophone to “Ame Agari”—or “after the rain”—which opens the album with a moment of contemplative calm, the kind that follows an extended deluge.

One track, the dub techno-influenced “Flowers in June,” grew out of Ylia’s live sets, but the rest are the fruit of improvisational sessions at home in Málaga, five minutes from the beach—jamming and then refining, searching for the ideal expression of a feeling as it was first captured. Searching for the spontaneity behind the stillness. In places, Ylia even incorporates piano, an instrument she has played since she was 10, yet has never included on one of her recordings before. For the most part on Ame Agaru, she seeks ways to fuse piano with synthesizers and electronic processes. But on the closing track, “El Único Adiós Posible,” she leaves us alone with the instrument in all its stark, unadorned beauty. It is a profoundly moving conclusion to an album defined by its economy of means and purity of expression: a cycle

“Primavera” is a rare flower by Fango that is blossoming during the right season. On vinyl only, pluck it before it withers!"

Wanderwelle is the Amsterdam-based ambient duo of Phil van Dulm & Alexander Bartels, who mint their Maalstrom label with Wat Gebeurde Er Met Sergeant Massuro?, a concept album based around Harry Mulisch's 1957 story of the same name (What Happened To Seagent Massuro?). The story weaves anti-colonial concepts with mythical realist elements, and is sonically brought to life here through atmospheric electronics and prepared instruments. A moody, resonant and ultimately deep groundswell of an album, one that compels the listener to venture ever further into the a spine-tingling heart of darkness.

New album by Berlin based Japanese artist Tot Onyx (Tommi Tokyo, formerly of group A). »Satire of Desire« is her second solo album to date. Here, performance and sound art meet post-industrial deconstructivism. It’s radical, ferocious, wonderfully free and powerful.

Eight cuts of cinematic electronic music from synthwriter OFFLINE. To follow this rainbow of silky sounds is to reach a point of no return, where the last person on Earth you'll be able to communicate with will be a 1970s synthesiser.

Nika Son stitches together spoken word, concrète and extracts from various installations into a hazed ode to the nocturnal world on this highly intoxicating new album, landing somewhere between the surrealist sound poetry of Nozomu Matsumoto, Arthur Lipsett’s abstracted film works and Michèle Bokanowski’s acclaimed scores for her husband Patrick.

Constructed out of the kind ephemeral building blocks conjured in liminal space, Nika Son (Golden Pudel Club, Entr'acte) collages moonlit organ vamps, stifled voices and disembodied, robotic poems on this deliriously slippery album. Heaving from smeary abstraction to penetrable drama, featherlight rhythms are cut short by uncanny voices: "stop, turning, a page," like some rogue navigation assistant, slicing into ticking clocks and xerox noise.

Like listening to a film without access to its visuals, all the foley sounds remain (windscreen wipers, trains passing, conversations) but we're left puzzling over what any of it means. The only context provided is from Son herself, who says that although the album doesn't have a consistent theme, each piece is inspired by the night's capability to shift our perception and memory. It comes off like a crepuscular sketchbook of ideas and themes that coalesce into an opaque sonic landscape.

It's music that defies simple categorisation; Son doesn't tie herself to any identifiable mode of expression, and there are no knowing nods to early electronic innovators either. Rather, she follow her own nose, drawing us into an elusive personal space. On 'It's just a cucumber', environmental recordings are edited just enough to enhance the illusion, before voices curl and decompress into rousing bass womps and unmetered rhythms prickle around punkish shouts. The use of voice is omnipresent throughout, even when not there, they appear on the periphery: on 'La nuit tombe', they're muffled behind echoing footsteps and creepy synth wails, on 'Gelbes Feld', incomprehensible chatter envelopes cricket chirps and b-movie arpeggios.

Many artists have tried to map out the dreamworld using sound, but Nika Son takes us to a place that genuinely feels in-between worlds, capturing those moments before vivid memories slip away from the mind's eye forever.

Unequal cycles searching for synchronous experiences: On his new album »Pounding«, Frank Bretschneider tells of distance, convergence and congruence in a continuous, ever-changing flow of events. What is often considered to be an unquestionable dogma in club music (for which Bretschneider has provided significant impetus since the 1990s) – the groove – appears precarious, unstable, and in motion. Pulse and accent are volatile encounters and have to be found again and again for short, delightful moments. Music becomes a constant process of negotiation.

In search of new sound spaces, Bretschneider has recently worked a lot with modular synthesizers, both solo (for example on »abtasten_halten«, 2020) and in collaborations, including the project Beispiel together with Jan Jelinek. »Pounding« was created using similar means – conceived in 2020 for the Pochen Biennale in Chemnitz, subsequently developed further and recorded in March and April 2023 on a sample-based modular system. And in fact, Bretschneider is once again exemplarily scanning his own sound material, for example Dub effects that listen to themselves crumbling. But also the human voice, or more precisely: the stuttering of fragments of speech, far in the distance but omnipresent, like a mysterious narration. Aesthetically, the eleven pieces form part of a series of works with a focus on percussion. Bretschneider has already perfected this approach with albums like »Rhythm« (2007) and has been shifting the perspective ever since, for ever new results.

Shifting is the basic principle of »Pounding«. Bretschneider combines elements that are in different aggregate states, changing their relationship to each other and thus ensuring the complex overall movement. He lets one to two-bar loops run against each other and through manipulations, develops a network of rhythms that creates a hypnotic state in the counterplay of repetition and mutation, between clearly recognizable meter and disorientation. There are comparable approaches in aleatoric music. Bretschneider combines them with sounds and patterns that are reminiscent of step sequencer logic and at the same time go far beyond it. The result is relational techno. Never clear, constantly restless and exciting.

From P60 is an alias of Zoltan Nagy who this year marks the significant milestone of a quarter of a century in the music game. He celebrates that by launching his new label Midnight Fashion Chill with his own first EP for it. Over the years, Nagy has done it all from deep house to Balearic to lounge and downtempo and here brings that touch of class to six superbly soothing sounds that fuse all that and more. The opener is pure horizontal bliss, 'The Times We Spent Together' is a slow-motion daydream, 'Fallin' (with Jaidene Veda) is pure soul-soothing magic and 'When' is a gently lilting ambient soundscape crafted to perfection.

Brainwave research center is a new project from NYC-based house/techno producer, Chase Smith (W.T. Records, Apartment, is/Was), & documentary filmmaker, Christa Majoras (School of Visual Arts).

Conceived together over two years as musical thought experiments, brainwave research center’s debut album, figure 1, contains a genre-bending distillation of influences from experimental music (Steve Reich, Laurie Spiegel, Black Dice), 1990s ambient techno (The Orb, Pete Namlook/Fax Records), and Motorik/Kosmiche/Krautrock (Kraftwerk, Suicide, Manual Gottsching).

The songs embrace a raw, naive approach to sound design, instrumentation, and technical production to capture the feeling of experimentation of the works they are inspired by. Described by listeners as a mixture of Electronic, ambient, and kosmische/krautrock.

Recorded and produced in Greenpoint, Brooklyn in the back of Smith’s synthesizer/electronic repair shop, Specs Sales & Repair, Figure 1 is the first in a sequence of 4 works to be released.

Made primarily with Tr-606, OB8, Sh-101, Ms-20, Fizmo, H3000, Sde-3000