Sarah and Ariel blend their strong individual personalities in a single trip on the edge of time. Their kosmiche music is pure, magnificent and elegant, an intergalactic hypnosis that seems to tell of distant times, a millenary vortex of a lost Era. In the first phase of departure, the mysterious song of the sax winds in archaic echoes, supported by the electronic inlays of the synth (Arp Odissey). Flowing between space rumbles and astral progressions, we sight high celestial bodies. When the infinite drones of the tampura start, we take part in the night ceremonial, surrounded by the deep harmonium and the Tibetan bell chimes. This music releases a sort of mythological warmth, secret codes of a lost purity, which lets us dwell in the labyrinths of a pyramid or in the sacred space of a cosmic pagoda.

More information can be found here.

Following a limited vinyl edition in 2018, Oliver Coates’ arrangement of Pulitzer Prize-winning US composer John Luther Adams' 2007 piece Canticles of the Sky appears for the first time across all formats.

In March 2017, Coates conducted 32 cellists in the UK premiere of the composition, displaying its intimacies after deeply communing with the trajectories of Adams' fictional suns and moons, the guiding characters and carriers of the piece.

This recorded interpretation, performed by Coates for multi-layered solo cello, takes Canticles of the Sky to wondrous, dizzying new heights, envisaging Adams' parallel dimension as an idealized construction. Marrying extra-musical studio techniques and meticulous arrangements to Coates' fascination with early electronic synthesis (especially the work of Laurie Spiegel), the result offers an ultra-sensory take on classical string instrumentation.

Coates has released a handful of solo records under his own name, including the acclaimed 2016 album Upstepping, 2017’s Remain Calm, a collaboration with Mica Levi, and most recently, 2018’s Shelley’s On Zenn-La, his debut album for RVNG. As an artist and performer, he is frequently commissioned by world-renowned orchestras, choreographers and visual artists to compose or curate integral new works.

More information can be found here.

French poet and ASMR auteur Félicia Atkinson has frequently fixated on the elusive interwoven relationship between microcosms and macrocosms – how even the quietest creative act ripples outward in unforeseen ways, a whisper with no fixed meaning. Her latest work pursues this notion in a more literal and lasting fashion, as it was crafted while pregnant on tour, in impersonal hotel rooms in foreign cities. She describes it as "a record not about being pregnant but a record made with pregnancy." Each day and night, finding herself far from home, she asked herself "What am I doing here? How can I connect myself to the world?" The answer gradually revealed itself: "With small gestures: recording my voice, recording birds, a simple melody."

In truth there is nothing simple about The Flower & The Vessel. The album's 11 songs span a vast pantheon of whispering textures, opaque moods, and surreal spoken word, leading the listener through a mirrored hall of beguiling mirages. Atkinson cites a trio of French classical compositions from her childhood as formative influences on this particular collection: Maurice Ravel’s "L'enfant et les sortilèges" ("a scary opera for kids"), Debussy’s "La Mer" (for its union of narration and music) and Erik Satie’s "Gymnopédies" (as an exercise in negative space, irony without cynicism, and "melody with doubt"). There's certainly a shade of classicism woven within these tracks, however veiled, abstracted, or unorthodox. Melancholic piano motifs repeat then retreat into a radiant frost of shivering frequencies; processed voices recite cut-up poems and interviews over delay-refracted Rhodes and Wurlitzer; iPad gamelan patterns flutter from meditative to melancholic and back again, offset by pointillist patches of delicate software synesthesia.

Although much of Atkinson’s past discography is shaped by speech and the lyricism of language, The Flower & The Vessel ventures farther into silence, absence, and voiceless wilderness. Among her sources of inspiration were "women who wonder, dream, and create vacant spaces in their art," as well as Ikebana flower arrangements, which reflect her own relationship with listening: "structure combined with everyday noises, selecting them to make a sparse music bouquet." Field recordings from Tasmania and the Mojave Desert murmur beneath hushed reverberations of gong, vibraphone, marimba, softly processed into an elegant emptiness, alternately eerie and serene.

Her mode of minimalism has long been one of reduction, riddles, and curation, but here Atkinson's synergy feels close to apotheosis, emotive but ambivalent, a ceremony of expectation and invisible forces. The 19-minute closing collaboration with SUNN O))) guitarist Stephen O’Malley, "Des Pierres," is one of the album’s few pieces tracked in a proper studio (Music Unit in Montreuil, France) but it broods and burns with the same subliminal majesty as the rest of The Flower & The Vessel: an ember in amber, seeds planted in shifting sands. Atkinson’s voice flickers like a flame, framed by slabs of shadowy feedback. Her process may be personal is but its impact ripples to the edges of existence: "How does the act of creation connect us, not only to history, but to the cosmic? It’s a process of taking, and then giving back. It makes us belong to the world."

More information can be found here.

Craig Leon revisits the extraterrestrial origins of civilization on Anthology of Interplanetary Folk Music Vol. 2: The Canon. Picking up where the pioneering electronic albums Nommos and Visiting (Anthology of Interplanetary Folk Music Vol. 1) left off, The Canon traces the imparted knowledge of alien visitors as it spread from Africa across the ancient world. Co-produced and featuring vocals by Cassell Webb, the pair engage a sonic pallet familiar from Vol. 1, updated with ecstatic contemporary sound and synthesis, creating a propulsive, exploratory album of cosmic lore and speculative anthropology.

More information can be found here.

Via Boomkat:

"The one you were waiting for: some of Chris Carter's earliest home studio productions appear on Archival Recordings 1973-1977, which was previously part of the Miscellany boxed set, and now available as stand-alone vinyl release.

For fans of Carter, his CTI and Chris & Cosey duo with Cosey Fanni Tutti, or indeed his crucial role in Throbbing Gristle, these recordings scan the relatively serene roots of what would become Industrial Music, and a seismic shift in underground experimental musicks.

Predating both his work in COUM Transmissions and Throbbing Gristle, and his zinging debt LP The Spaces Between, the Archival Recordings disc is perhaps of greatest interest, historically and artistically, to long-term fans of Carter’s musick. Spanning 1973-77, it covers the years just before, and after, Throbbing Gristle’s conception, when Carter was clearly in thrall to kosmische and psychedelia, but not beholden to them. Across 13 parts, Carter's take on space music and pulsing early electronics is definitely less whimsical, much darker than other music of that period, progressing chronologically over the LP to reveal a full embrace of electronic music’s dark allure by the time we get to the hellish miasma of "See Sick" [1977]."

More information will eventually be available at Mute.

Transcendental tape loops and bedroom ambient dream states from the teenage mind of Warren Defever aka His Name Is Alive. All The Mirrors In The House is the first of three projected releases of very early works by the Detroit-based savant, prior to signing to 4AD in the late-1980s.

With help transferring aging cassettes and annotating the results from Shelley Salant of Tyvek, the unearthed results are revelatory - a gorgeous sequence of gently decaying tone float made with an incredibly primitive DIY set-up.

As Defever recounts in the liner notes: "By age ten, I had a tape recorder and was using it to capture the sounds of nearby lakes, thunderstorms, and my older brother's LP collection played at the wrong speeds. As a teenager, I got deep into all kinds of music - punk, new age, blues - and played bass in the high school jazz band, as well as studying Bach chorale harmonization and counterpoint. My first album consists of rhythm tracks made of loops of the next door neighbor raking leaves and shoveling the driveway with echoey guitars and vocals with lyrics about ghosts."

Inner sleeve essay and interview by Mike McGonigal, the founder of Chemical Balance magazine and YETI publishing, and the author of acclaimed books on My Bloody Valentine and Galaxie 500.

More information can be found here.

The first release from The Bug’s PRESSURE label in 2019 is an absolute sound system crusher from JK Flesh (aka Justin Broadrick Godflesh/Jesu/Zonal etc…). Three tracks of the slowest, heaviest, dread techno you are ever likely to hear. Plus a remix from The Bug himself, in full doom riff mode.

Kevin Martin (aka The Bug) is quoted as saying "I'm as proud of dropping this epic 12" as i was of being the person to release Godflesh's Love is a Dog from Hell, many moons ago on my old label Pathological Records. This time around, Justin again redefines absolute heaviness, but in a club format, as he gets sociopathic with his homicidal riffs and deep space explorations. Absolute malevolence, a complete body slaughter. I virtually begged Justin to let me release In Your Pit! Haha. And I'm very happy he agreed and additionally passed me two more tracks of utter dirt."

More information can be found here.

Shawnee, Ohio, the first album by sonic ethnographer Brian Harnetty on Karl, is an intriguing blend of archive recordings of interviews with residents of that small town and melancholic chamber-folk.

Brian Harnetty (b. 1973) is an interdisciplinary artist working between music composition, sound, and socially engaged art. Rooted in sound archives and the communities connected to them, his body of work contends that the simple act of listening –– to people, places, and their pasts –– can transform our futures.

Both a 2018 A Blade of Grass Fellow for Contemplative Practice and a recipient of the 2016 Creative Capital Performing Arts Award, Harnetty is deeply involved with local issues of Appalachia and the Midwest. He connects sound archives with performance, ecology, and place - an approach for which he was labelled a "sonic ethnographer." Many of his pieces transform archival material –– including field recordings, transcriptions, and historic recordings –– into newly re-contextualized sound collages. For more than a decade, this has led to projects with archives such as the Berea College Appalachian Sound Archives in Kentucky, the Sun Ra / El Saturn Archives in Chicago, and the Anne Grimes Collection in the Library of Congress. Harnetty has released four internationally acclaimed albums: American Winter (2007), Silent City (2009), The Star-Faced One (2013, MOJO Magazine's Underground Album of the Year!), and Rawhead & Bloodybones (2015).

In the words of Brian Harnetty himself:

Shawnee, Ohio is a sonic portrait––past and present, real and imagined––of a small Appalachian town in the United States.

Shawnee emerged as a coal mining town in the 1870s. A century of decline forced businesses and people to leave, and today local residents fight to hold their buildings and community up amid a new “fracking” boom. Despite an uncertain future, these residents continue to work for environmental, economic, and cultural enrichment. Since 2010, I have been visiting and working in Shawnee. I have also been retracing the footsteps of my family, who immigrated there as Welsh coal miners in the nineteenth century.

Shawnee, Ohio focuses on eleven portraits of local residents recounting their lives, work, friendships, and deeds. They talk and sing of mining, disasters, underground fires, social life, protest, and hope. They include women and men, are black and white, and are across generations and centuries. Working directly with community members, I use archival samples of their voices and weave them together with my own ensemble.  Past and present are tangled together in a haunting world of music, stories, and images."

More information can be found here.

Danielle de Picciotto was born a nomad on the US Army base at Ft. Lewis in Tacoma, Washington. Thus her journey started, moving from one base to another for years.

In 1987 she moved from NYC to Berlin to initiate the Berlin Love Parade together with her then boyfriend Dr. Motte, to create the Ocean Club with Gudrun Gut, one of her longest standing collaborators, to be engaged to the late Roland Wolf of the Bad Seeds, to become the renowned singer of the Berlin band Space Cowboys, to exhibit her art and films internationally in multiple museums, and from 2001 to start collaborating with Alexander Hacke, founding member of Einstürzende Neubauten.

They married in 2006 and with him her travels continue! The artist couple gave up their home in Berlin 2010, and have been touring the world since.

Danielle de Picciotto’s new album Deliverance speaks of these travels and the state of our world from an eagle’s perspective. Despair and hope lie side by side, mirroring the dark shadows and beauty she has experienced on her journey. Her music is a mixture of spoken word, electronic soundscapes, melancholic violin harmonies, and surreal choirs, moving back and forth from experimental sounds to beautiful melodies managing thus to blend hope and despair into a cosmos of constant flux.

Imagine Laurie Anderson dancing with This Mortal Coil in a strange wasteland of dreams and sounds, that is Danielle's universe. It is one that faces reality and its challenges with mystical, dreamlike wisdom, discovering solutions in unexpected alcoves, offering hope and wonder as an alternative.

The album, a limited edition of just 150 pressed on black vinyl presented case bound with 24 pages of the art she has created during her years of traveling including a hand-numbered and signed screen print.

Her black and white ink sketches that also overlay colourful backgrounds, reveal her personal state of mind and emotions in a college of images and textures that expand her musical visions into a fascinating three dimensional experience.

More information can be found here.

The new Meat Beat Manifesto album Opaque Couché will be released on May 10th 2019 on CD, vinyl and digital formats. The double vinyl will come in two flavors – regular black vinyl and a limited-edition opaque couché (brown) picture disc (300 copies worldwide) in association with the UK's Electronic Sound magazine.

Jack says of the album: “Opaque Couché”* continues the search for the most imperfect pop song, with sixteen opaque tracks it can be seen as a companion to Impossible Star.”

* Opaque Couché is known as the world’s ugliest color," used on cigarette packets to discourage smoking.

More information can be found here.

Mariska Baars and Rutger Zuydervelt go way back. And although they regularly work together in the quartet Piiptsjilling, their last effort as a duo stems from 2008, the album Drawn (on Foxy Digitalis/Morc).

But now Eau is here.  Eau (pronounced "oh") means "water" in French, and that's how it sounds; like gently rocking waves of sound, or like a babbling sonic stream of fractured audio debris. It also sounds a bit like the equivalent of sunlight dancing on the ripples of a lake's surface.

Eau is not really a song, or a composition. Well, technically it is, but it functions more like an atmosphere that fills the space. Just let it play (on repeat…) and let the sounds hang in the room - let them co-exist with any other sound that's there. Open a window if you wish! Or, experience the trip on headphones, let these soft tones, gentle voices, buzzes and crackles tickle the inside of your skull.

Eau was mastered by the one and only Stephan Mathieu, who made this carefully crafted audio patchwork shine even more.

More information can be found here.

Passageways is John Daniel's most personal work to date. An ode to his childhood home - a secluded apartment complex in Cleveland that his parents managed - Passageways refer to the various connecting hallways running between rooms as much as it refers to the way the passing of time overtakes our perception of spaces that seemed to be endless corridors into discovery and imagination. Passageways is full of submerged melodies, gentle pulls of surging tonal shifts that arc, shimmer and fade into the dark purple hue of the album's shifting overtones. The album rides the line of decaying drones that recall the best of Basinksi or Belong's October Language.

From John:

Passageways is a record about my childhood home.

The "passageways", in this case, are partially referring to hallways.

I grew up in a unique environment - a quiet and secluded 3-story apartment building in the west suburbs of Cleveland. My parents managed the building so our family had two apartments, eventually right next to each other. As a young kid I would adventure around the apartment building and its surrounding property, thick woods and greenery were behind the building and felt like an endless backyard. I attribute much of my early imagination and creativity to this place.
My folks will be moving away in the next few years as my Dad plans to retire, so I'm planning on leaving a copy of the record with the building, hidden somewhere. I had lived in that building since I was 4 years old - the idea of your home no longer being there is strange, but change is necessary. This home was simply a "passageway" into the life that I live now- I believe it was instrumental in becoming an artist.

This is my folk record in a way. It is not musically obvious, but more in terms of how I approached the writing: A sense of sentimentality about home, about a place and time.

My first instrument (outside of the drums) was an acoustic guitar, and that's how I started out making solo music. I eventually learned that I wasn't a guitarist and sought more minimal, simple ways of making sounds. But that's really where things started, so I've always felt a connection to that type of music, even in these days of electronic music. I also think there's an idea about electronic music being a bit evasive or emotionally inaccessible at times, or lacking personal transparency. I wanted to challenge expectations of an ambient record by framing it how I would have 10 years ago. This is a development in a side of Forest Management that I've only recently begun to feel, and am doing my best to roll with it.

More information can be found here.

With the demise of the group Wire in 1980, founder members Bruce Gilbert and Graham Lewis joined forces to create Dome. With the assistance of engineer Eric Radcliffe and his Blackwing Studio, Dome took the ethic of "using the studio as a compositional tool" and recorded and released three Dome albums on their own label in the space of 12 months: DOME (July 1980), DOME 2 (October 1980) and DOME 3 (October 1981). A final fourth album, WILL YOU SPEAK THIS WORD: DOME IV was released on the Norwegian Uniton label in May 1983.

These albums represent some of the most beautifully stark and above all timeless exercises in studio experimentation from early 1980s alternative music scene.

Previously issued in the out of print DOME 1-4+5 box set in 2011. Now available as standalone LP with download card.

Out May 31st on Editions Mego.

Anthony Burr and Charles Curtis present this collection of curated compositions from Alvin Lucier and Morton Feldman. Two Lucier pieces, "August Moon" and "Trio For Clarinet, Cello & Tuba" are presented here for the first time. Liner notes are excerpted from a lecture on Morton Feldman given by Alvin Lucier.

"For Feldman, dynamics serve an acoustical function. When he mitigates a piano attack he reduces that spike of noise that’s at the onset of every piano sound leaving only the sinusoidal pure after-sound. It’s as if he invented electronic music with the piano." Alvin Lucier from liner notes.

"Lucier manages to hear a layer of acoustical physics in Feldman’s music that perhaps no one else would hear. He’s hearing something in Feldman that is actually coming from his own musical world; in a way, hearing his own music in Feldman’s, and drawing inspiration from that."

More information can be found here.

"Kukangendai is a kick ass rock trio from Kyoto (Tokyo transplants). When I first hear this band live I was instantly transfixed by their minimalist yet illusory primitive, polyrythmic and structural, memory evoking rock narratives. Their energy is completely and transparently palpable yet handled with restraint of the pleasure of a disciplined form dealing with time and articulation. They are a power trio of bass, drums and guitar but the music they play is as much the limbic system of a forest than it is a geode. They started in 2006. They left Tokyo to Kyoto and started the cult venue Soto ("Outside") "to listen to music they hadn’t heard yet" a few years later. They collaborated with Ryuichi Sakamoto last year. They reminded me of James Brown on a heavy binge of Bastro–there's a deep current of both archaic musical tastes and the human desire for articulating that archaism in there, but you shake your ass and get the shouting in… in a punk basement … 13th century version of Breadwinner, the bare soul version.  I'm honored and proud to work with this tribe, and to count them amongst friends."

-Stephen O’Malley, February 2019, Paris

More information can be found here.

Matthew Sage is a composer, producer, label owner, and publisher based in Chicago, IL. Since his earliest recordings, Sage has carefully considered and crafted each of his various approaches to experimental music. His debut LP A Singular Continent was an endless epic that charted imaginative aural cartography and seemed to soundtrack actual worldbuilding. Now, after five years personal changes and growth, Sage returns with his tried and true sonic trademarks, but with a noticeably liberated approach to his brand of experimental studio music.

Catch a Blessing shows Sage in a much more impulsive light. Where past work existed in space that was cerebral, meditated, and composed, the music here is more natural, playful, and effort-less.

Opting for chance and the unknown rather than rules and conceptual rigor, Sage "practiced" an amorphous technique that led to profound moments of accidental, unplanned beauty. And the perks were plenty. As Sage explains: "Learning to know less and to just feel more about what I am making has become important to me. I like, or am learning to like, the possibility of that openness, that uncertainty. Not knowing. It is uncomfortable, but it is nourishing."

Recorded over a summer in a tiny room on the second floor of a 120-year-old apartment in Chicago, Catch a Blessing is the result of and the meditation on the exquisite exhaust and lavish lushness of his crumbling (and rebuilt) locales.

Presented as a collection of ornately expressionistic portraits of Chicago, Sage approached the album more as paintings or sculptures than musical compositions. Album opener "Avondale Primer Gray" unfurls a calm but vibrant quasi-melody that dissolves into a blur of found sonic objects both familiar unknown. "Lions to Baffle" is a semi-synthetic symphony of muted, sax-laden alien jazz, while "Elevator Straffing" maintains a whirling, glittering hum of echoed dissonance. "Claiming Air Rights" could be the literal sound of a piano floating through space, levitating despite an impossible weight. "Michigan Turquoise" brings an exquisitely eerie hymn with the same ghastly grace of Sparklehorse. Album centerpiece "Window Unit +Three Flat" is an open-ended epic of texture and ambiguity, immediately followed by the warped and trickling elegance of "Polish Triangle." "Wolfe Point Fog" closes Catch a Blessing with peculiar focus, departing with an open-ended and wholly optimistic focus.

The moods and modes are constantly, entirely at odds with themselves: private vs. public, abject vs. profound, rural vs. urban(e), and so on. Where other players of experimental studio music take a more high-minded, often stuffy approach, Catch a Blessing floats in airier, more refreshing modes. It’s endlessly lush but sincerely marked by decay. This is naturalism in the truest sense.

Out now on Geographic North.

Glottal Wolpertinger was initially conceived as a radio installation for documenta 14, the world's most renowned event for contemporary arts, with each of the tracks broadcasting individually over the course of ten weeks and culminating in a convergence of all eight tracks at a performance in Athens. The pieces consist of microtonally tuned feedback, multispectral drones which Werner modulated and filtered with a purposeful, and indeed vocalized, emphasis given to the different frequencies and textures used. By naming the individual frequency bands, Werner defies traditional tuning systems and instead centers the piece on collaging variable elements. Sonic elements churn and sprawl across the tracks in constant motion. Their drones, combatting for space, entangle one another and oscillate into overtones that shift, build, and wither with fluid motion that blurs the line between consonance and dissonance.

Glottal Wolpertinger's incarnation as a recording is no less potent than its preceding forms, but serves as a continuation of the project's evolution as a distinct listening experience. Werner's apt title for the project embellishes the ambiguity and cognitive dissonance inherent with the work, as the wolpertinger is a creature of European myth which is said to be the mutated result of different species breeding under special circumstances in the Alps. Glottal intonations are those produced by the guttural and throat region of the body, the center of organic sound. According to Werner, the wolpertingers are "bastards, collaged freaks who exist in the grey zone of nature’s perfect plan," the same grey zone in which his pieces live.

Jan St. Werner is a critically acclaimed and internationally recognized sound innovator. In myriad ways – as a solo artist, a collaborator, through his group Mouse On Mars, as a producer, as a lecturer at MIT, or as a professor of Dynamic Acoustic Research at the Academy of Fine Arts, Nuremburg - Werner has challenged traditional approaches to creating and experiencing music. The sixth installment of his "Fiepblatter Catalogue series," Glottal Wolpertinger endeavors to transcribe the phenomenon of sound as anarchic and highly sensitive material. His multilayered presentation of the project highlights the ways in which sound and music can fluctuate and re-constitute depending on context all within one consistent work. In keeping with the series' collaborative nature, the pieces include contributions from guitarists Aaron & Bryce Dessner of The National.

More information can be found here.

Drift is a free fall album consisting of three compositions invoking a sense of hovering expansion. Deeply spacious yet tightly compacted sound movements create holding patterns that slowly shift and evolve. Cycles fall in and out of sync while atmospheres envelop time, appearing on the periphery before being subsumed back into space.

The compositions utilize modified alto saxophone with spring reverb attachment, synthesizers, percussion, field recordings and electronic processing. The saxophone is played with an acoustic spring reverberation preparation to produce multiple feedback tones, pitch beating and metallic distortion. Using sampling and pitch shifting techniques, the instrument and its presence of breath act as the glue that binds the pieces.

Bio:

Rosalind Hall is an Australian musician and composer who creates performances, compositions, installations and soundtracks. Rosalind’s spatial and expansive work explores the physicality of sound through the use of amplification, microtonal movement, beating frequencies and reverberations. Using acoustic and electronic sound technologies such as modified saxophone, synthesizers, percussion, field recordings and processing software, Rosalind extends her sound sources by sampling and processing to create pieces that invoke a sense of claustrophobic infinity.

More information can be found here.

Luke Younger returns to PAN with an eight-track album of his most direct work to date. Composed alone at NO studio in the Essex countryside, to start an album with a piece called "Capital Crisis (New City Loop)" seems an intentional misnomer. Long, sustained periods in the rural studio setting see Younger working with an array of fragmented, disassociated sound sources to build upon 2015’s Olympic Mess. It shares a similarly inclined vision of the urban environment, but here Chemical Flowers makes reference to paradoxical notions of authenticity and creative practice by way of questioning the structures around us. Collages are assembled and dismantled, temporal and spatial boundaries fluctuate and movement is an overarching theme.

Surrealist drowned world atmospheres sculpted far enough away from the source of inspiration leave plenty of room for ambiguity. The nocturnal nature of the recording process is self-evident, and pieces like "Leave Them All Behind" tap into a deep psychedelic undercurrent.

Confused narratives, emotions and aleatory hallucinations ebb and flow throughout. "I Knew You Would Respond" evokes murky soundtrack terrain with eerie repetitive strings and ambient respite, disrupted periodically by brief bursts of granular noise. It's one of the records most unnerving moments, possibly as it's one of the most recognizably human.

The album navigates dense passages with recurring signifiers. Hollow percussion, modulating delay and curious field recordings come and go, maintaining a perpetual state of flux where nothing stays the same for long. The drowned world theatricals return on the swamp-like "Lizard in Fear" whilst string rhythms creep in on the penultimate track to incite momentary electroacoustic harmony. Floating synthesis slowly washes over and the title track unfolds - five minutes of reverb-laced portamento, visions of decay and Editions EG influenced world-building. Movement is key.

Releases May 17, 2019.  More information can be found here.

Over the last decade, M. Geddes Gengras has released an enormous catalog of wide-ranging, synth-focused music in both solo and collaborative settings. He has participated in influential experimental groups like Sun Araw, Pocahaunted, Robedoor, and Akron/Family. Along with Sun Araw's Cameron Stallones and Alex Gray, and a host of Jamaican singers and artists, Gengras continues to blur the boundaries of dub and electronic music under the name Duppy Gun – a project which crystallized with an acclaimed collaboration called Icon Give Thank (RVNG, 2012) with roots reggae legends The Congos.

I Am The Last of That Green and Warm-Hued World, Gengras’s first release with Hausu Mountain, follows in the more ambient- and drone-focused vein of his work, as explored on recent releases with labels like Leaving Records, Umor Rex, and Room40. The album stretches through an 80-minute program of layered synth mosaics and expanses of serene drift that continually shift and reconfigure themselves into networks of interlaced harmonies and electronic textures. At any given moment, huge foundations of low-end drift swirl beneath angelic pads and soaring, quasi-melodic leads, as layers of environmental foley drip into view around the margins. Synth tones evoke the timbres of human vocal formants, stuttering digital glitch, or unidentifiable hand drum percussion. Mixing disparate sounds and moods in his palette, Gengras paints a mental journey through diverse emotional zones: quiet meditation under the desert sun at noon, ego-destroying tidal wave swells slamming onto the beach, confused wandering through hostile territory under the cover of night.

I Am The Last of That Green and Warm-Hued World came into existence after M. Geddes Gengras's father appeared to him in a dream and suggested that he read Stephen King’s The Dark Tower: The Gunslinger. The vivid, post-apocalyptic locales visited in the book, which range from mountain ranges to atomic water pumping stations to interdimensional portals, directly inform the auditory spaces that Gengras draws into life with this album. While ambient music often reaches the listener with a host of external signifiers meant to ground the music in some semblance of the physical world (see: oceanic album art, song titles that evoke specific images), Gengras’s music achieves a rare degree of topographical intricacy by virtue of his wide, dense mixes and the contrasting textures presented by his interlocking tiers of synthesis. Over the course of five extended sessions that range from 11 to 22 minutes each, the album sinks into passages of near-complete stasis and crests into segments animated by intermittent bursts of melody and muted, techno-adjacent drum tones, settling into discrete atmospheres that percolate at different degrees of rhythmic complexity. All the while, M. Geddes Gengras allows individual elements to generatively interact and twist around each other to the point that no two moments present the same exact sounds. A far cry from willfully repetitive, loop-based ambient music, I Am The Last of That Green and Warm-Hued World extends before the listener as a fluctuating, self-contained biome, with the components of each composition carefully stacked together and charged with their own trajectory through time and imagined physical space.

More information can be round here.