Lars Holdhus articulates himself as being the “system administrator” of his mechanic TCF moniker. The clinical and precise word “system” is extremely indicative of what Holdhus has constructed — both here in the presented mix and in terms of his overall process. For example, Holdhus has set into motion a seemingly automatic project-wheel known as TEA (Tiny Encryption Algorithm) project, which serves a way for TCF to expand from moniker to a module of the physical world. To fill in the prospective wait for the project to develop and take off, Holdhus has shared a awe-inspiring mix arranged for Badwaves.

“The rupture, the break, the obvious artificiality of the machine is interpreted as an unartistic act of force and therefore has to be covered up more and more,” says Gerald Raunig in his Deleuze adapting book length essay, “A Thousand Machines.” The mix operates similarly. Founded on an axiom of comfort in ecological dysfunction, the mix scales the expanse of plasticity. A lucidly lateral movement occurs through the mix’s development that unravels and then arrives back at the beginning, exposing a sort of boring truth of the future’s nowness as we utilize technologies in a massive interconnected web while still longing for the future. The concept of ouroboros mapping, pinning down points within a cyclical and non-arriving path is quite reminiscent of the drifting and largely organismic works (Basinski’s “92982.1,” Fennesz, Mika Vainio, Christian Zanési’ s”Nostalgiai”) that are included in the mix.

Holdhus, the observant explorer, the human in the middle exercises his ability to know his surroundings, to cybernetically construct while encased. The approach of the mix is that of an essay, a piece of information, a text and context presenting itself and its point with each lateral and then downward slide. Endlessly cycling recapitulations of reappropriations, all scatter-shot ambient and generative pieces with epistemic items bouying along a kosmische spectra, the mix reveals itself to be about the process of a series of input/output commands, prepositions laid out to produce and develop over a length of time (and space).

There is a particular moment, around the 31:20 mark that calls to mind a quote from Rem Koolhaas’ The Generic City, “Identity centralizes; it insists on an essence a point. Its tragedy is given simple geometric terms.” This moment seems to define the entire point of the mix. People Like Us’ “Sacred Erm,” lays bare an epithelial pastiche of everyday life: the human voice entrenched in banal daily phone banter becomes the center of the composition. This moment feels like a climax as Basinski’s d|p 3 forges its way through the torrent of elated and task-involved voices. The statement “I suppose you want me to spell” grabs the ear before being filtered and usher off into the ether, and a trance motivated piece by EVOL webs its way around the severely open “O” shapes of the brass instruments in Ennio Morricone’s “Di Notte.” There is a sort of bait-and-switch in this section: the codified, significantly packed nature of the human voice caught up its daily dealings is quickly replaced by that which is mechanical, both expressed through intensively cylindrical shapes. Everything that exists in space and time is simply matter waiting to be transformed and formatted.

Though, Holdhus calls this piece a mix, something simple and benign, quite indicative of a few points of interest in a particular moment; this could more precisely be called the definitive release of 2014. Within 40 far too short minutes, Holdhus has metabolized every vantage point and inquiry of modern society, splicing and combining the hot button topic of surveillance with the “highbrow” notion of the post-human ecology of our known world. Stream 486669f0e9b8990384108f3d54c6a8f036adeb8bc7108f3d54c6a8f036adeb below:

• TCF:

Chocolate Grinder

CHOCOLATE GRINDER is our audio/visual section, with an emphasis on the lesser heard and lesser known. We aim to dig deep, but we’ll post any song or video we find interesting, big or small.