Electronic / Experimental
3905 products
"Arthur Russell's most extraordinary work, World of Echo is reissued in this remastered vinyl edition by Audika Records. 18 tracks are featured including drumless versions of his disco classics 'Let's Go Swimming,' 'Tree House,' and 'Wax The Van' along with four previously unreleased tracks. Originally released in 1986, World Of Echo is a deeply intimate and meditative work of awe-inspiring grace and remains a timeless work of sublime beauty. Arthur's aim was to achieve what he calls 'the most vivid rhythmic reality,' with just cello, voice, and echoes. Arthur achieved all of this and more on one of the most incredible albums you will ever hear."
Abstract dub dream-weavers SKRS INTL. & WZRDRY remerge at the behest of Bristol’s Accidental Meetings for a super lush dose of wormholing ambient dance pressure tipped FFO Rezzett, Peak Oil/False Aralia, Second Woman. ‘Orbit Flares’ combines the two Canadian units for the first time in over a decade, naturally reprising an empathic level of vibes in a half hour of music that betrays illusive tekkerz developed over the interim. Any semblance of sharp edges are smudged to a brilliantly psychedelic, polychromatic lustre and laced with disciplined, yet properly wayward rhythms that tumble, buckle and vaporise in fractious delirium. Each new SKRS drop is welcome around ours but, jeez, they really push into their most impressive work here, possibly thanks to wzrdryAV’s synaesthetic suss. Front to back it feel likes they catch minds/bodies in the split second before going under anaesthesia, and extrude us into pitch-bent helical vortices of plonging dub chords and gooey bass, finding bold new realms of computerised dub suss. Handrails are slippery as fuck, ground melts beneath feet, leaving bodies gyring in space between the weightless dub techno inflections of ‘1.1’, into air-stepping chicanery on ‘1.2’, or glitching like a hair-kissing Vladislav Delay on ‘1.3’. The smeared chords and scudding subs of ‘2.1’ call to mind Second Woman emulating the illusive dub-soul of False Aralia drops, and ‘2.3’ feels like distant rig heard on a Nitrous-induced permo. Sheer class for harder to please future dub freaks.
Detroit’s dub techno lineage continues to evolve as cv313, Stephen Hitchell of Echospace, teams up with Federsen for Altering Dimensions Part Two, another collaborative EP set to land on Federsen’s Alt Dub imprint.
A CD compiling all of Terre's Neu Wuss Fusion's releases to date. Includes previously unreleased and alternate versions of tracks found elsewhere (such as on DJ Sprinkles "Gayest Tits & Greyest Shits" and "Fagjazz"), so this CD will still be of interest to collectors who might already have those other items. Self-released on Comatonse Recordings with custom packaging hand assembled by Terre herself, the package includes one CD in an archival vinyl pouch with two double-sided insert cards (100mm x 100mm), phonograph style anti-static inner sleeve, and 4x4 panel poster insert printed on newsprint (472mm x 472mm).
sample-She's Hard (2007 Archive of Silence Mix)(Excerpt)
sample-A Crippled Left Wing Soars With the Right (Steal This Record Club Mix)(Excerpt)
sample-Thirty Shades of Grey (Demo Version) (Excerpt)
sample-Sloppy 42nds (Terre's New Wuss Fusion Edit)(Excerpt)
視聴-k-s.h.e spirits, lose your hold(Excerpt 1)
視聴-k-s.h.e spirits, lose your hold(Excerpt 2)
視聴-k-s.h.e spirits, lose your hold(Excerpt 3)
視聴-k-s.h.e spirits, lose your hold(Excerpt 4)
視聴-k-s.h.e spirits, lose your hold(Excerpt 5)
視聴-k-s.h.e spirits, lose your hold(Excerpt 6)
視聴-k-s.h.e spirits, lose your hold(Excerpt 7)
視聴-comatonse.000 comatonse.000.r3(Excerpt 1)
視聴-comatonse.000 comatonse.000.r3(Excerpt 2)
視聴-comatonse.000 comatonse.000.r3(Excerpt 3)
視聴-comatonse.000 comatonse.000.r3(Excerpt 4)
視聴-comatonse.000 comatonse.000.r3(Excerpt 5)
視聴-comatonse.000 comatonse.000.r3(Excerpt 6)
視聴-comatonse.000 comatonse.000.r3(Excerpt 7)
視聴-comatonse.000 comatonse.000.r3(Excerpt 8)
視聴-Names Have Been Changed (Sound/Reading for Incest Porn) (Live Version)
“The idea of the black avant-garde exists, as it were, oxymoronically – as if black, on the one hand, and avant-garde, on the other hand, each depends for its coherence on the exclusion of the other. Now this is probably an overstatement of the case. Yet it’s all but justified by a vast interdisciplinary text representative not only of a problematically positivist conclusion that the avant-garde has been exclusively Euro-American, but of a deeper, perhaps unconscious, formulation of the avant-garde as necessarily not black. Part of what I’m after now is this: an assertion that the avant-garde is a black thing.”- Fred Moten
When we go searching for a Black avant-garde, we have to be prepared to look in unexpected places. The route to a Black avant-garde involves walking down – what some might consider – peculiar highways. Where they see strangeness, a road leading them nowhere, we see nothing but beauty. The paths Darren Cunningham went down, the highways he took to make Actress, are a chapter in the story of the Black avant-garde. Cunningham the footballer. Cunningham the Wulfrunian. Cunningham the ex-footballer. Cunningham the DJ. Cunningham the Londoner. Cunningham the producer. Cunningham the painter. Cunningham the writer. Cunningham the composer. This is where the Black avant-garde in Britain is made. This is where you have to go to find it.
Across an expansive discography of more than ten LPs, Actress has created his own arcane language of hermetic references and inter-dimensional electronic composition.
Radical Frame arrives 18 years since debut album Hazyville, and it feels like an apotheosis. The image realised. We get the full gamut of Actress signatures. Short bursts of broken down music. Tiny sketches of zoomed-in sound. Refracted dance floor heat. And we get more. We get appearances from CASISDEAD on ‘Live By You’ (another image, another mask) and Rainy Miller (another artist from the provinces, Preston).
Today, we get ‘Overchord’ - the centre of the album paired with its precursor ‘Live By You’. It arrives alongside a video by Anna van der Velde, featuring Cunningham trapped in a luxury prison of his own making, contained but not constrained.
Perhaps Radical Frame is a container for everything that Cunningham has built so far. A frame he is handing over to the next in line. The next artist to make their own way in the Black British avant-garde.
“The idea of the black avant-garde exists, as it were, oxymoronically – as if black, on the one hand, and avant-garde, on the other hand, each depends for its coherence on the exclusion of the other. Now this is probably an overstatement of the case. Yet it’s all but justified by a vast interdisciplinary text representative not only of a problematically positivist conclusion that the avant-garde has been exclusively Euro-American, but of a deeper, perhaps unconscious, formulation of the avant-garde as necessarily not black. Part of what I’m after now is this: an assertion that the avant-garde is a black thing.”- Fred Moten
When we go searching for a Black avant-garde, we have to be prepared to look in unexpected places. The route to a Black avant-garde involves walking down – what some might consider – peculiar highways. Where they see strangeness, a road leading them nowhere, we see nothing but beauty. The paths Darren Cunningham went down, the highways he took to make Actress, are a chapter in the story of the Black avant-garde. Cunningham the footballer. Cunningham the Wulfrunian. Cunningham the ex-footballer. Cunningham the DJ. Cunningham the Londoner. Cunningham the producer. Cunningham the painter. Cunningham the writer. Cunningham the composer. This is where the Black avant-garde in Britain is made. This is where you have to go to find it.
Across an expansive discography of more than ten LPs, Actress has created his own arcane language of hermetic references and inter-dimensional electronic composition.
Radical Frame arrives 18 years since debut album Hazyville, and it feels like an apotheosis. The image realised. We get the full gamut of Actress signatures. Short bursts of broken down music. Tiny sketches of zoomed-in sound. Refracted dance floor heat. And we get more. We get appearances from CASISDEAD on ‘Live By You’ (another image, another mask) and Rainy Miller (another artist from the provinces, Preston).
Today, we get ‘Overchord’ - the centre of the album paired with its precursor ‘Live By You’. It arrives alongside a video by Anna van der Velde, featuring Cunningham trapped in a luxury prison of his own making, contained but not constrained.
Perhaps Radical Frame is a container for everything that Cunningham has built so far. A frame he is handing over to the next in line. The next artist to make their own way in the Black British avant-garde.
There are collaborations that feel engineered, and then there are those that feel like summer sun’s warmth on a Sunday. Helado Tropical, the debut collaborative album from Helado Negro and Reyna Tropical, belongs to the latter, channeling that easy, sun-drenched tenderness into sound. It didn’t begin with a plan so much as a meeting: two artists orbiting similar questions around language, identity, and music, finally landing in the same room. What followed was less a traditional writing process than a shared unfolding – an instinctive, immersive exchange that stretched across geographies, time zones, and states of being. The duo first met in June 2024 in North Carolina, brought together by a mutual friend and a loose invitation to spend time in the studio. What might have been a brief session turned into something closer to a three-day sleepover – equal parts conversation, curiosity, and creative risk. Reyna Tropical, who often works within intimate, long-standing collaborations, arrived unsure of what it would mean to open their process to someone new. Helado Negro, long known for expanding the sonic and emotional language of Latin music, entered with a similar openness: no expectations, just a willingness to see what might emerge. What emerged was immediate, rather than easing into collaboration, the two found themselves propelled forward by it – building songs in real time, responding to each other’s instincts without over-explaining them. There was no rigid division of roles. One would begin an idea, the other would answer. A melody would suggest a rhythm; a rhythm would reshape a lyric. “There was never a moment where we felt super stuck,” Helado Negro recalls. “It was just like ‘ok what’s next?’ and even within the songs, trying to create these micro worlds – we just felt excited about each moment.” That sense of momentum became foundational to Helado Tropical, a nine-song project that feels both weightless and deeply rooted. Built from guitars, drum machines, and synthesizers, the album resists clean categorization. It lives somewhere between ambient and rhythmic, intimate and expansive; essentially, a sonic language of its own making, shaped as much by feeling as by form. If there is a unifying thread, it’s movement. The album was written across multiple locations – North Carolina, Portland, and the midwest – with both artists continuing to shape the songs in between sessions, sending ideas back and forth in a kind of long-distance dialogue. At times, the process resembled a “postal service” exchange, each artist adding layers in solitude before returning to build together again. The result is music that carries a sense of travel within it – not just physical, but emotional and spiritual. For Reyna Tropical, that movement became central to the project’s meaning. “You can really lose yourself in where you are and you can miss a lot of processing,” they say. “But I think that this particular album really was able to ground me in what movement means to me and just different characters that the range of movement, travel… environment – sun, wind, and water – has the potential to bring out.” The songs reflect that duality: they drift, swell, and shift, yet remain tethered to something steady beneath the surface. That balance is perhaps most evident in “Sensación,” a song that explores intimacy outside of traditional frameworks. Rooted in curiosity, it opens up a more expansive understanding of closeness – one that, yes, can exist between people but also within oneself, and in fleeting shared moments. There is a softness to it, but also a charge: like a storm forming quietly in the distance. Elsewhere, “Fluye” captures a different kind of release – an almost suspended state of awe, inspired in part by Reyna Tropical’s experience watching a sunrise stretch endlessly across a long-haul flight. It’s a song about surrendering to flow, awakening, and recognizing continuity and connection – even in moments of disorientation. And then there is “Tocando,” one of the album’s most visceral recordings. Built from a pre-existing beat Helado Negro introduced during their sessions, the track took shape after more than a day without sleep. Reyna Tropical recalls pacing, waiting for the lyrics to arrive, before finally delivering them in what they describe as an almost essay-like outpouring. The result is a song that holds tension and tenderness simultaneously: a meditation on relationships that feels both fragile and fraught, intimate yet edged with warning. That duality of softness and sharpness, as well as openness and resistance, runs throughout the album. It’s there in “Soledad,” the final track recorded, which came together in a single late-night session after the project was technically complete. What began as an improvisation on keys turned into something magnetic, keeping both artists back into creation. “[We] couldn’t leave the room,” Reyna Tropical says. The finished song retains that energy between them, and sense of flow coupled with immediacy, unfolding with minimal alteration from its original form. Across Helado Tropical, there is a noticeable absence of constraint: not just musically, but conceptually. Both artists share a long-standing resistance to the expectations often placed on Latin music: what it should sound like, how it should feel, what stories it should tell. As they do individually, these two artists create space for something more fluid and personal on this project. That freedom extends to the album’s emotional perspective. While many of the songs explore intimacy, they rarely function as direct dialogues between the two voices. Instead, they exist within a shared world where each artist expresses something individual and collective. “It’s not about us speaking to each other,” Helado Negro explains. “It’s about us existing in the same feeling.” What makes Helado Tropical particularly resonant is the sense of trust that underpins it. Trust in each other, of course, but also trust in instinct, in process, and the idea that not everything needs to be fully understood in the moment it’s created. Much of the album was written through improvisation, with meaning revealing itself only later, as the artists listened back and reflected. In that way, the project functions as both creation and documentation: a record of a specific time, place, and connection. Reyna Tropical describes it as a form of archiving – capturing not just songs, but the emotional and relational context in which they were made. “It was a lot of processing, a lot of transition” they say about where they were at personally. Ultimately, it was about understanding that “this is supposed to be released so we could keep going. I really feel like this album does that personally, and hopefully is able to hold that for other people too.” That forward motion propelled by release is felt in every part of the album. It hums beneath the surface of even its quietest moments, carrying a sense of continuation, and of something still unfolding. Ultimately, Helado Tropical encapsulates a moment of two artists meeting at the right moment, with the right openness, allowing something larger than either of them to take shape. It is spontaneous yet intentional, grounded yet expansive, deeply personal yet invitingly universal. And this convergence of forces is just the beginning.
It is often said that we find it hard to stare at the light, however, the universe never lights out. This first premise from As Above, So Below is the base point for the setting of what follows. A group of rabble-rousing guerillères from the commune decide to go bowling. They had entered the forest, followed its winding paths, and emerged blind after staring at the universe for too long. No longer able to find their way by observing the stars, they now have to climb on the houses and feel the vernacular roofing to find out in which direction they’re heading. They get to the bowling alley all amped up. The punters insist on lighting their cigarettes - they’re not interested in matches but rather in the cardboard cover that attaches them. The only striking going on is the sound of the skittles getting scattered, syncopating with saturated basslines, mixed vocal techniques, heavy fx, and feeding into an arsenal of bells and percussions. They start stomping on the alleys as if this was a housewarming party and they had to break in a newly laid wood floor. Moving in circles, they eventually fall through it and end up in a room where the light has been swallowed. A band including none of its original members is performing, they can only hear a warm yet throbbing hum. They soon realise the massive rolling sub is getting louder and louder and adjusting its pitch. The dust their feet was lifting is slowly sweeping around the floor and gathering in patches and lines, drawing out the Chladni figures they had seen in their dreams, experiencing the same thoughts at the same moment, they inscribe them on a loquat leaf.
Psychedelic sorcerers Nuke Watch return with a definitive blast of improvised studio shenanigans on London’s Sagome, after celebrated turns with TTT, PPM, and patience. Proper outerzone madness, tipped FFO Pekka Airaksinen, Wolf Eyes, Marshall Allen, Sperm. Expanding from a duo to a trio with the addition of Zack Stafford on wind and electronics, Nuke Watch emulate the effects of some legit Lucy for a particularly skewiff and trippy session on their 8th studio album ‘Fusion’. The key to the LP is in the titular nod to psych jazz and rock hybrids of the ‘70s, where styles began to melt into one another via the extraordinary musical virtuosity of the likes of King Crimson, Tony Williams, and John McLaughlin. But rather than overly intricate key changes and showmanship, Nuke Watch distill a confluence of inspirations - contemporary urban beats, dub, trip metal, outernational trance, US basement noise, raga drone - with an alchemic, imaginative ingenuity they can safely call their own. The trio, plus the likes of Daryl Seaver on EWI MIDI and instrument, a la Marshall Allen or Wolf Eyes, giive it hot and sticky with a flow of intuitive ideas best representing a prolific creative practice of open-ended jams. But again, they deftly sidestep the more hoary connotations of psych with a freezer fresh zing and grasp of groove that, just about, lets us know it’s the 2020s, not the 1970s, or at least somewhere along that timeline. This uchronic approach, factored by extramusical prompts from psyops, eschatology, and contemporary political clusterfucks, yields a brace of hypnotic, hallucinatory projections in progression from the swingeing groove and smeared apparitions of the opener, thru the mutant raga of the ‘War Lock’ section, to a properly unbuckled ‘New American Psycho’ movement squirming in space between Sperm and Wolf Eyes’ trip metal.
kishun is a duo: ISHIKAWA Ko, player of the shō (mouth-organ), and NAKAMURA Kahoru, player of the gaku-biwa (Japanese court lute). Since 2015 they have used only shō and biwa. Their idea is to bring out the hidden sound in what they call “gagaku without melody.”
Gagaku is the ancient court music of Japan. It is more than a thousand years old. In the Heian period, nobles gathered old songs and dances from Japan and pieces that had come from Korea and China between the 5th and 9th centuries, and shaped them into one art. As gagaku took root in Japan, it was arranged and rebuilt. The form we hear today is unique to Japan. By the Heian era, it was already close to its present shape. Gagaku lives in two worlds: as court music at the Imperial Palace, and as sacred music for rites and festivals at temples and shrines. Because of this history, it was kept by nobles and professional musicians, away from the taste of ordinary people. Its instruments and dances are very different from most other Japanese traditions.
Gagaku has four main kinds: bugaku (dances, including those from the continent), kangen (an instrumental ensemble), kuniburi-no-utamai (old songs and dances from Japan), and utamono (vocal music from the Heian period). Among these, kangen is rare in Japan: it is a full orchestra made only of instruments. Most other Japanese music centers on singing. When there is instrumental playing, it is often in small groups or as support for theater and dance. Kangen stands apart.
The kangen ensemble is called “three winds, two strings, three drums.” The winds are shō, hichiriki (double-reed), and ryūteki (transverse flute). The strings are biwa and so (zither). The drums are kakko, taiko, and shōko (gong). The hichiriki and ryūteki carry the melody. The shō wraps them in chords. The string parts frame the rhythm. Kishun plays only shō and biwa, both in classic pieces and in improvisation.
The shō is a free-reed mouth organ with 17 bamboo pipes of different lengths and pitches. Each pipe has a small metal reed. In the classic style, players do not use tonguing. They shape phrases with breath. The shō is not loud. In ensemble it plays long, steady chords called aitake. These chords color the melody and show the center of the mode (scale).
The gaku-biwa is a lute. Today it has four strings and four frets, and is played with a plectrum. Its back is flat and the body is shallow. Its sound is strong at the start, then fades quickly, with almost no ring. For this reason, the biwa speaks more in rhythm than in harmony.
kishun leaves out the melody instruments of kangen. They focus on the shō, which builds a field of sound through aitake chords, and the biwa, which draws the rhythm. This is their experiment: to bring forward the voices that hide behind the melody. With the skill of two masters, they reach this goal. Sounds that the full gagaku ensemble often covers without notice step into the foreground and speak to us in a fresh, striking way.
(*1) ISHIKAWA Ko — Studied shō and gagaku song with MIYATA Mayumi, BUNNO Hideaki, and SHIBA Sukeyasu. He began performing in 1990. He plays classic and new works with Reigakusha, a well-known gagaku group, and also performs as a soloist. He has taken part in many projects with artists such as SAKAMOTO Ryuichi and Evan Parker. He is also active in free improvisation.
(*2) NAKAMURA Kahoru — While at university, she met the revival of Bankaso (the oldest known biwa score, reconstructed by SHIBA Sukeyasu) and began to study gagaku. She studied ryūteki with Shiba Sukeyasu, and gaku-biwa and umai (right-dance, a style with roots in the Korean peninsula and northeast China) with YAMADA Kiyohiko. A member of Reigakusha, she has performed since 1990 at festivals in Japan and abroad, and as a soloist. She also works to bring lost classic pieces back to li
Yara Asmar’s new album, “everyone I love is sleeping and I love them so so much”, presents 11 pieces recorded over the past year between the small town of Alfred in upstate New York and Beirut. These sometimes fragile and tentative sound sketches reflect the times as Yara steps out, as if onto ice, into a new life on a new continent. She works with unfamiliar instruments, new materials and new sounds to build on her intimate style; homemade mechanical music boxes and a personal archive of family recordings form the backbone of its delicate textures. Asmar explores the peculiar resonance of the metallophone and her collection of deconstructed toy pianos, and guides her music into ever more surreal territories. The result is a work that is dreamlike, fragmentary and strangely timeless.
01.Skylark on 303 / Masaaki Kikuchi
02.The Acid Coming / ACIDWHITEHOUSE
03.Sevnwn / Yuri Suzuki
04.Got Drunk / CHERRYBOY FUNCTION
05.Freq Out / Sigh Society
06.Screaming Bassline (distortional addict) / AcidGelge
07.GROTTO / QUEER NATIONS
08.Cut the Midrange Drop the Acieeed Bass / MUTRON
09.BOWWOW / ACID TAMIYA 346
10.Victim Kid / kuknacke
11.Do It / NASCA CAR
![Palomatic - Trill [DELUXE EDITION] (2CD)](http://meditations.jp/cdn/shop/files/71JWcyEyKFL._AC_SL1500_7f53b2a4-1aa3-41f5-9ef9-b899e2d6ee4a_{width}x.jpg?v=1772102643)
Last spotted on production duties for Yungwesbster’s ‘II’ as well as turns for Nostalgians and Dj Loser’s Magdalena’s Apathy.. Seattle-based Jaqueline Lawson aka Matryoshka shows serious emotional range on her debut album, channeling Burial, Shinichi Atobe, Space Afrika, Malibu and Surf Gang, seemingly all at once…. Matryoshka has already built a reputation as a producer for DJ Loser's Magdalena's Apathy imprint as well as work for the Nostalgians, an under-the-radar ambient rap collective featuring Yungwebster, Mdb, tnotsobad, Nopaprr and ogpra1. Her musical roots - dubstep, trance and hard dance - tell some of the story here, but she transmogrifies those influences into haunted, Basinski-esque memories like the gaseous traces and decelerated remnants of the club. On album opener 'Lifelover’, Burial's hazed interludes spring to mind, or perhaps the 4am cityscapes of Space Afrika's now mythical 'Somewhere Decent to Live’. Background ambiance simmers below Lawson's pensive FM pads, but once she establishes the mood, things take an unexpected turn with a pitch-bent bassline that might have been lifted straight from a 6LACK loosie, and a rhythmic pulse that traces the thin red line of Shinichi Atobe. If it's dub techno, it's a strand that hasn't been codified quite yet. 'Surface Tension' uses deep, Maybach Music-coded bass womps to twist through her skittering slow rhythms and sadcore pads. But it’s Matryoshka’s harmonic instinct that stands out; if you heard the airy 'otr' or 'fantasize' from Yungwebster's 'II' you'll know exactly what we mean, and she takes it even further here, weaving cinematic, languid harmonies that bridge the gap between Steve Roach and Future. Check 'Where the Dancers are Spinning' with its levitational, almost orchestral sweeps that Lawson counterbalances with thudding subs, or the brief title track, an Akira Yamaoka-style save room loop that dissipates into a dreamy, dissociated fog, for further proof. Then there's the second side's centrepiece 'Parted by the Sea', where a ratcheting Chain Reaction-style rhythm builds to a tense crescendo only to get splintered unrecognisably in the second half, its broken pieces pillowed by Lawson's billowing time-stretched chords.
“Unknown Happiness” is the signature song of Maher Shalal Hash Baz, a Japanese experimental music project formed in 1984 and centered around Tori Kudo. This track epitomizes their one-of-a-kind musical world, which fluidly moves between folk, jazz, brass, classical, and improvisation, and its simple, warm melody continues to be cherished by indie and experimental music fans around the world to this day. A live version that captures the song’s charm in its freshest form is now available on this long-awaited 7-inch single! Side A features the unique atmosphere of a live performance and the ensemble sound that is uniquely Maher Shalal Hash Baz—beautiful precisely because of its imperfections. Side B features a special live version performed by a piano-centered ensemble that brings out new facets of the song’s appeal.
Klara Lewis' Opening is a deceptive recording with veiled melodies and clandestine bangers. "Klara Lewis’ distinctive talent for disfiguring sound into forms that remain recognisably song-like reaches a new peak here. Lewis, creator of worlds, treats music as a mirror that reflects a perspective misaligned with the real image. Her music moves in unusual and often startling ways. Acoustic instruments such as ukulele and piano are subjected to processes of deconstruction and reconstruction, their original forms continually reshaped. The tracks within Opening offer an array of disorientating tactics; damaged field recordings are suddenly sliced into ominous rhythmical patterns whilst deceptively simple tactics provide foreboding dread. Often alien on entry, the progression of a piece can land in a surprising tenderness, or the other way around. The momentum grows as a physical state but also one which is questioning, desiring, encapsulating a feeling, to explore a further way of expression and ultimately connecting: A new closeness, a new perspective. Opening is an album in which the protagonist’s manipulation of sonic matter seems to extend beyond the music itself, resulting in a corresponding manipulation of the active listener. Sounds shift, dissolve, and re-emerge in altered forms, creating an experience that feels both intimate and disorienting. Lewis maintains a delicate balance between abstraction and emotional immediacy, drawing the listener into a world where familiar musical gestures are constantly reconfigured in surprising ways. The works on Opening are refracted through an exploratory and transformative lens, suggesting an artist continuing to redefine the possibilities of musical language as a space where the instantaneous and the eternal come together."
Well known for their Music for Saxofone & Bass Guitar series—also familiar to Meditations—Sam Gendel and Sam Wilkes return with a new duo work. This time, they step away from their signature sax-and-bass pairing and move toward a fresh approach centered on guitar and synthesizer. Compact at eight tracks and roughly 27 minutes, the album builds a distinctive world through a sequence of short, interconnected pieces.