It’s that time of night when all you hear is the radiating beat of some club a mile away, nobody saying anything echoing in this room makes sense, and there’s a lounger laying on their patio two or three houses down-hill, listening to light string music. The air is crisper outside anyway, on the porch, watching the full moonlight, squinting if it’s even real. That white lit circle meshing with the “Phosphene” scattering your vision, as if you just rubbed your eyes, or took a hard blow to the head. A siren syncs with the rest of your audibly tunneled realm, and the dynamic becomes surreal. Cars drifting in and out, accelerating a scream; “Am I screaming? Am are you screaming?” It’s all bugged at this point, but stabilizing it all in your cranium, contending your visual of the moon delivers a zone to your cones.
Severed+Said is taking you on a run through their mind-set. It’s practically visual. Sounds just barely of timbre. Calculated crossroads of syncopation. Whirlings and whistles dropped whenever the time feels right. Like how leather gloves strap into the person, and not the other way around, Severed+Said will know you so hard in the ear, “Phosphene” may actually occur.
New Severed+Said tape out on Not Not Fun May 5. Sure to bring you beyond. Listen to the “Phosphene” single below, and keep a look out for a video not too long from now.
o . o துஈசிதிசி திஇல்டூ
Life leads all of us to make no expectation. Faith is something fabricated in levels of all of us. Then you look at your phone for weather. Or distances from distances via GPS. You believe whatever is put in front of you as culture. I mean, it’s an instinctive belief. Like knowing you’ve a parachute jumping from an airplane. So take the vast expansion “soulseed_cracker_koil_dunity” briefly doles you out. And just download the new o . o துஈசிதிசி திஇல்டூ release The Ballad Of Jankmaster Flexington And Queen Larptifah on Quantum Natives ASAP.
“Spark Faun and Tiger Born”
Rob Mazurek, setting aside the hard material, springs surprise jolts to the shocker like an uninvited brat popping the party balloons. The jolts bounce on the inflatable moon, a moon as red as Michael Oliver. They protrude out of the sputter and the crunch. Up and down. Forward and backward… in the lowland explosions of Hollywood 3-D, a blow-out: of circuitous circuitry that can’t shrug away the gravity; of intercourse and resolution between the revolutions of the needle and the balloon. It’s a red-themed party… red everything. Tongues dyed red. Teeth dyed red. Red lips and fingernails.
From therapy-wave to hyper-spa R&B to smooth-cyber jazz to electronica adventurism, 회사AUTO is bringing a bit of hurt to the much anticipated follow up to _N entitled, -Q-. Famed in infamous, various, a plethora of new/future genres to explore, -Q- is the same sort of quests traveled in Since I Left You, The Private Press, and 覚醒 -Kakusei- via production similarities of lounge-smoke, post-splash, and eco-emitions, allowing welcome ground for vocalists to participate, as well. But all in the confines of taking itself there. One human’s adventure through friendship and new feels, professionalism and independence, exploration and the beyond. It’s the meaning of being: -Q-. It’s wanting it all and striving to have it. -Q- is that tingle you feel after a good days work. It’s becoming you. -Q- words by 회사AUTO below:
No pills, no quantitative anxiety disorders, no worry.
Swimming, deep, feeling, flying, open, free.
Run, move, dance, steep, clean, tea.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Head on over to the 회사AUTO Bandcamp for the full digital album, -Q-, including hidden bonus tracks (album will be made free every Friday). There were no samples used withink -Q-, and they’re 100% created, produced, and mastered by 회사AUTO. Collaborations with Kyle Michael Porter and Donovan Hikaru. Out today!
• 회사AUTO: http://auto-7.bandcamp.com
Daryl Groetsch’s recordings under the Pulse Emitter moniker embody the modern musical equivalent of a chemist in the laboratory, gradually refining his practice over the course of innumerable combinatory permutations and experiments. His catalog encompasses drifting electronic space-outs, baroque webs of synth harmony, even the occasional detour into noise abstraction. Groetsch ties all these strains together with the simple (call it “comforting”) presence of his human body inside a fortress of hardware, breathing sessions to life in an organic process of hands-on-knobs tinkering, improvisation, and transcribed composition.
But what goes down when TMT mega-favorites Beer on The Rug — merchants of distinctly hyper-digital, post-internet art — put out a Pulse Emitter tape? Jam Digital Rainforest and marvel at how fluidly Groetsch constructs his labrinythine sessions from a sonic palette closer to Far Side Virtual than And The Stars Go With You. Sparked in a literal sense by his acquisition of new and customized voice libraries for his synthesizers, Groetsch spins out melodic leads and consonant backdrops that mimic the tones of steel drums, bells, brass, and human vocal formants. Far from diluting his typically lush compositions, these patches embellish his ideas with surprising textures and physical presences. Digital Rainforest transplants the MIDI muzak familiarity and sterile tones of what we might know as “vaporwave” (and the library music that inspires it) into the realm of meticulously layered analog performance, sketching a personalized vision of synthesized music at the crossroads of disparate decades and traditions.