Face Without Face, to me, is the musical equipment of a genre film. It pairs a respected master (Negru Voda) with a relatively new artist (Knös) in a split release of harsh European electronics that offers no surprises nor earth shattering developments, but accomplishes what it intends to. Muffled, bleak and rhythmic, this split is a great throwback to the Tesco/Cold Meat Industry scene from the late 1990s.
2013 was an uncharacteristically quiet year for Horseback. While leader Jenks Miller released a solo record and the band put out a three disc compilation of limited and unreleased material, that was about it. The result of that hiatus is Piedmont Apocrypha, an album that hits many of the touchstones Horseback has worked with before, but as an evolved, more nuanced album that is polished and more complex than what preceded it.
In his 29 year career, Francisco López’s work could never be described as accessible. His treatment and processes of both organic and synthetic sound sources have ranged from pensive to painful, and everything in between those extremes. This, however, may be his most daunting work to date: a data DVD of uncompressed wave files and a total of seven hours. The 17 "quiet" pieces are challenging, yet captivate when experienced in the right context.
There are a few reasons why I am so late to the party on Daryl Groetsch's work, but the primary one is that I first heard about him in the early 2000s, when he was appearing on albums with titles like All I Want for Xmas is Bowel Disrupting Noise and Underwater Corpse.  Consequently, his transformation into one the premier purveyors of kosmische-inspired long-form analog synthesizer voyages went entirely unnoticed by me.  Another reason, unfortunately, is that Pulse Emitter has a dangerous tendency to veer into cloyingly saccharine New Age territory, as he sometimes does here.
It has taken me entirely too long to get around to covering a Petrels album, but London composer/multimedia artist Oliver Barrett's third opus turned out to be an ideal place to start.  Due to the complex and heavily processed nature of these pieces, the closest reference point is probably someone like Tim Hecker, yet Barrett's epic scope; talent for texture, dynamics, and melody; and passion for deep and unusual concepts place both Petrels and Mima in a category all their own.
As much as it pains me deeply to use this adjective, this Manchester duo seem to specialize in something resembling hypnagogic techno. At the very least, they attempt to refract more conventional techno sounds through a drugged/half-asleep/eyes closed/out-of-body sensibility that is seemingly all their own.  That is a tricky feat to pull off though, as the line separating "ghostly and diffuse" from "boring, forgettable, and easy to ignore" is quite a narrow one.  Fortunately, both of these EPs are likable (if flawed) in their own right and admirably a bit beyond the pale, but the newer New Brutalism is significantly more sharply realized than its predecessor.
Utilizing the sound of tuning forks, a method of generating tones that goes back far into history, Nicolas Bernier places them in a motorized, computer controlled installation that belies the simplicity of its core. The single piece moves quickly, evolving from the simple resonating tones to a dense, complex synthesis of the naturally captured resonance and the computerized processing of the pure source material.
Joao Da Silva’s Luciernaga project has been active only a relatively short time thus far, with releases dating back to 2010, and obviously material here going back even further. This disc compiles selections from ultra limited cassettes, split releases, and unreleased work that stands out well in the often crowded field of ambient drone works. Nicely alternating between harshness and soft, gauzy textures, the result is a dynamic and cohesive collection of material.
This trio from Tel Aviv has created driving and airy songs suffused with somewhat doom-laden yet inspiring vocals, hollow rhythms, and gauzey guitar, for an album which could easily masquerade as a release from 1980s Manchester or Glasgow.
This Brooklyn-based composer's debut release for Students of Decay is quite an unusual effort, placing its emphasis most prominently on frequently untreated field recordings of natural spaces (as well as a few unnatural ones).  Even the instrumentation is atypical, as Guthrie uses violoncello and contrabass to weave a creaking, moaning bed beneath French horn playing that frequently sounds like a very large, very sad bird.  There is seemingly not much happening compositionally (overtly, anyway), but Codiaeum Variegatum's languorous, organic, and unfamiliar soundscapes are a lovely place to linger nonetheless.
