The particulates of SHXCXCHCXSH’s sorcerous techno spread as incantations whispered into a synth, without precondition, destination, or resolution.
To close ones eyes, to feel the walls with one’s hands, to follow blindly, but not innocently (like stony crumbs along a path, presented by way of the present journey, to where, it’s unknown. At times it might feel like we’re lost, but then, there, is another pebble to guide us. When touched it explodes in a puff. The way back is lost forever and closes itself in darkness. Onwards, onwards. To brush through piles of dead leaves that squelch and crunch, grittily, and over sticks that snap under boots, heavy ones, strong enough to stave off silt and snow. To catch glimpses of them beneath long and flowing cloaks, which, sometimes, we gather in our hands, and other times we drag through the dust. They get a bit tattered. Later we sit and mend them, by a crackling fire, in a damp dungeon).
Each song runs on, searchingly, onomatopoeically, which also makes me wonder. As I am on this path, as the sounds of SHULULULU surround me as the sagey shade from ancient, rustling trees.
SHULULULU is out now on Berlin’s Avian.
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