BUY 12" LP / DIGITAL


Here we have an elegant and clumsy music. Plodding along, bouncing at times, like an oversized ergonomic desk ball which sprouts daisies where it lands, a voice greets the listener caught up in its own mouth, artificial and logorrheic, on the verge of finishing its own words, each speakerly attempt triggering involvedly crafted sounds, intelligently put together, like comparing the colour of a watermelon to sunset, All Culture Is Dissolving compares ars-nova-esque chorale sung by vocaloid, with lament, to an environment of silicon and raindrops, where a melody leaves space for the sound of insects in the undergrowth, the trip, as it is inferred via a disguised text of Terence McKenna, comparing a musical gesture to a linguistic one, dialogically, a musical form to a non-human flourishing, the compositional technique in its sporadic virtuosity, improvisory and honed, talks uncompromisingly like the detail of a bee’s wing and the fuzzy unidirectionality of its lumbering body, like the sparkling chime of an app and its accompanying ecology, of thank yous to be said after listening, thank you, the mock and bubbling future this music so acknowledges, tinged, a celebration and warning. Open the album and the planet crumbles. Talk to it and it talks back. Play the music and picture the speaker at large. An image forms of this person-like entity, the protagonist, a being caught between the archaic and the sci-fi, an image readily shared online and readily seen in psychonautic excursions – ‘and now I transcend’, ‘and now I return’ – the figure slowly becoming dust-like pockets of what was formerly there, a gentle smile on their face, an app-filter which turns a reflection to mirrored powder, and then in its wake, some brilliant and twinkling effect on the air.
words by: Emile Frankel