Evan A. James
Evan A. James’ self-titled cassette is economical. It is economical in that it induces rich image through sound. We feel as though Mr. James is sharing snapshots of an abandoned hotel. He may have discovered the snapshots while panning for fake pearls. Dusting off the surface, he realizes their remarkable beauty. He arranges them to emphasize their luster, even though they’ve plainly dulled.
There are no snapshots of the majestic lobby, only pictures of its offspring, the unkempt rooms. Transients haunted the rooms; rooms that are now filled with their floating sounds, sounds on photographs, romantic and weary.
Perhaps, in “Gallery Waltz,” the photographer frames a picture of a well-worn couple, mechanically starting and stopping their intimacies in the oblivion of a nondescript room. In “Sunrise,” perhaps, an agoraphobe, in apprehensive awe, watches the day transpire through a silted-up window pane. In “Chord,” a family member leans in closer to hear the bubble-mouthed telekinetic’s last gurgles, indecipherable over the medical drones. Perhaps.
As a well-kept hidden-secret since April, “TEARS” by MEISHI SMILE was turn’t into a video by the ever evolving and growing art by Dataerase. And that’s exactly what is happening here in this glitched-out heavy flow of streams just streaking down your checks that are [ctrl] & [x]’d from reality. Continuing the cult of digital manipulation, Dataerase here won’t stop their services of pure mayhem in mind control. Unabashedly, the video for “TEARS” by MEISHI SMILE strips all memory, as though it right clicks and eliminates your consciously brimming recycling bin at the forefronts of your mind.
Sort of like trying to forget, “TEARS” flickers with imagery and words that are both remembered and misunderstood. Thus, letting the colors fade, the memories collapse, and the backgrounds hack around heaps of digital glitter, it’s almost MORE ROMANTIC to let go than to hold on. There’s also no option for choice here, as the video will kindly erase bad memories whether or not you want it to, so if you wanna harness crabby thoughts, watch “TEARS” below at your own risk, viewer:
Meishi Smile’s first album LUST was released January 28 via Attack the Music and Zoom Lenss. Vinyl is all sold out, but you can snag it on CD or digitally here.
A few days ago, two Latin words became more relevant to two brain hemispheres, which – subsuming dualist debauchery – effectively vanguard my sensory-cultural intake. Aesthetically, this pair of words evokes a distinguished sentiment, risen from the small print on the back of a diploma. If you throw them at a translation website and press the speech button, a nervous voice will spew “different song.”
With(out) further adieu: Psalmus Diuersae. If you want to so call it, the label emerged from a decided nonchalance in abstraction. A little bird relays tales of a crypt of glitch-democracy, wherein Psalmus Diuersae acts as a melting pot for stews of erratic and kinetic ingredients. Instead of potatoes, beef, or carrots, you might bite on coordinates, technical instructions, Français, mathematics, and so forth. The hands which toss and stir are/is Psalmus Diuersae. Collapse/clarify.
While the audio presented by Psalmus Diuersae might stem from singular sources, everything else is decidedly subject to change by any of the many(or few) artists constituent of collective effort. Regardless, mavers_GEP, (as it now stands), is the purported title for a group of three tracks recently released via Psalmus. Much like the other releases online, mavers_GEP is a whirlpool of obscurity, garbled and gargled into a transitionary dimension, in which you pull relations like rubber bands. It’s nostalgia is only in the framework of narrative, which dissolves without a subject, and wanders without an object. At one point, a tired friend recounts a dream about traveling as a group. A touchstone, which embodies the march of Psalmus Diuersae into a swirling enigma. It’s worth it to tag along, but don’t expect resolution. That’s not in the soup.
• Psalmus Diuersae: http://diuersae.bandcamp.com
Life is good.
I don’t miss the pain.
Loss is real.
Engrossed in sterileness.
• chushi: https://soundcloud.com/chu-shi
“House of Mutes Vol. 1” (stream)
Charles Ballas is a name that I want you to write down. He’s a stealthy figure here in my hot-as-hell-right-now home of Denver, CO, quietly creeping his way through the town’s glittery, glitchy electronic underground. In addition to being a sometimes-member of the shifting live iteration of Howling Hex, and now a cornerstone of the quartet Dan’l Boone, he’s also sweating out some pretty sweet tapes here in the throes of summer with his Obsolete Future imprint, including this excellent, deep-IDM collection, House of Mutes.
Compiled by Conor Walker and including a number of contributions from Ballas (particularly on side B), this mix is dim, darklight-lit with glowing electronics zapping off the bass floor in lightweight polyrhythms… I guess I should point out that Ballas was also a member of Gemini Trajectory, too, (remember them?) [Editor’s Note: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!], and that’s important because it’s the vibe you can imagine when you’re thinking about how the comp shapes up. It’s true to its name in this way: not a single breath of a human passes through the headphones, although the beats do whisper an enticing spell in your ears anyway, summoning your own little private dance party for whenever you want.
Thug Entrancer is the one name I really recognized on the track list; the others (aside from Ballas himself) are all pretty much new to me, but the way in which they’re skillfully woven together through this c42.5 tape makes each a bold coordinate on the graph worth zooming in on. I’m remiss to post the Bandcamp stream below here, because it’s not how I want you to hear this. Best consumed in one workout, a flip between A and B for a nice water break opp. Pure cassette tape mix perfection, and it could be yours, easily.
• Obsolete Future: http://obsoletefuture.tumblr.com