OOH-sounds

Tucked in the heart of Koreatown lies The Libra Hotel—the titular architecture of Nick Malkin’s new album and site of his musical and psychogeographic exploration. Unlike most musical “site-specific” studies, Malkin remains wholly ambivalent to the documentarian approach, instead sharpening an auteur-like focus on the site as a conceptual and highly expressive backdrop. The Libra is musically explored as a space that houses a noir fragmentation of identity—the exhausted trope of a complicated protagonist walking through rain-soaked street corners and fumy neon lights—where an inner monologue is rendered in both miniature and at a cosmic scale. Casting aside stifling tropes around field recording, ambient, and improvised music, Malkin’s work finds its own unique fidelity and emotional core through the assembly and reassembly of memory. Nearly every sound on the album—from frayed saxophones, lambent pianos, and dissected jazz drum kits—are multiplied, shattered, and reconstituted into shapes that adorn The Libra in a motion-blurred fog. The narrative of the Hotel suddenly appears as if out of the mist, with intersecting characters interacting within its walls by happenstance. Adminst the languid set pieces, wraith-like sonic grains gravitate around wide subbass beams that give structural form to The Libra, a narrative tension like when a scene is shot from hundreds of different perspectives: an image both luminous and veiled. Much like Sinatra’s own spatial residency immortalized on “Live at The Sands,” “At The Libra Hotel” showcases an exuberant view of entertainment, hospitality, and a form of masculinity, one that can quickly detourn into darkness. Knowing this, Malkin extracts a melancholic core out of The Libra locale. The flickering shadows of American decadence are shown in their ephemeral honesty, lines that trace how even in everyday life virtue is tested, sanity is tested, even reality is tested within the confines of desire, within the night. The album is draped in fleeting textures, carefully arranged with a trance-like microtonality, the faint inflections and articulations of a jazz band cascading into dissipated stillness. Voicemails about changed locations and covert eavesdropping on guests' whispered conversations provide an atmosphere of missed connection and voyeurism—a purloined letter of desire receding into a vanishing point. Like the music itself, The Hotel, a chapel perilous at the intersection of desolation row, the center of it all, yet simultaneously at the edge of town, becomes a structure between libidinous virtuality and actuality—our inevitable half-light. Ultimately, the pensive atmosphere of “At The Libra Hotel,” powerfully asserts a plea for the kinds of intimacy only possible in transient spaces. Here, memory cascades into a force that feels like something supernatural, perhaps even religious, yet always subject to the infidelity of our imagination. Here, the album opens into its primary psychodrama, the transient nature of subjectivity itself and how this becomes fractured in the tumult between our commitments and desires. Within this nocturnal space, to quote Louise Bourgeois, "you pile up associations the way you pile up bricks. Memory itself is a form of architecture.

Multidisciplinary artist Jermay Michael Gabriel and producer Giovanni Isgrò team up as Plethor X to present a debut EP of anti-colonial resistance, an unfolding experiment in self-determination. Colonial trauma has no linear trajectory, and neither does memory. It seeps and sinks into the fibres without a temporal pattern, crossing generations, back and forth between past, present and future. Plethor X channel the multifaceted dimensions of such phenomena, exorcising trauma through sound, embracing cultural legacies and collective memories as a form of healing. The driving force behind the record is the Habesha musical tradition, distinctive of Jermay's childhood - samples of the masinko, an Ethiopian and Eritrean one-stringed instrument, are used extensively - transposed into rhythmic structures onto which Isgrò playfully grafts elements of footwork, ghetto house, as well as gqom and singeli—a space-time gateway of complicity and experimentation. Plethor X’s soundscapes are Afro-futurist ecosystems of explicit messages—'Don't use the N word’ is distinctly heard in ‘Negro’—coalesced with frenzied percussive textures built through destruction. With ‘Bet’ we experience Muna Mussie's hypnotic recitation of Tigrinya words drawn from a set of nursery rhymes and words emblematic of Eritrean culture. The voice of Mussie, who shares the same origins as Jermay, serves here as a vehicle to express a certain identity melancholia, the repetitive mode sounding like a soothing process of reconciliation. PAN-affiliated producer STILL makes his own contribution by reworking Plethor X’s material in 'Fendika', raising the rhythmic tension with his signature colourful, plugged-in dancehall style. That with Europe is a bridge to an indefensible continent, with a predatory, plundering nature, sold as 'civilisation'. In ‘What You Mean’, Isgrò and Jermay conspire against their own Eurocentrism, regurgitating it from within. The package is complemented by remixes from OOH-sounds affiliated artists nobile, Losssy (formerly unperson), Glass and WEȽ∝KER. Their brilliant versions of 'Bet' are a further investigation of the evocative potential of Mussie's voice and expression of the collective nature of this project.

捻くれ者のインダストリアル・テクノから退廃的なノイズ・ロックを交錯させながら、レイヴの解体を試みてきたテキサス拠点のCraig Clouseによる名プロジェクトShit & Shineによる2024年度最新アルバム『Joy Of Joys』が、フィレンツェ拠点のカルト・エクスペリメンタル・レーベル〈OOH-sounds〉よりアナログ・リリース！〈LAFMS〉の脱線的な前衛音楽から初期〈Mego〉のバッド・デジタリア、Wolf Eyesファミリーのノー・ブローな熱狂、〈Chocolate Monk〉のマイクロDIYのエトスまで、あらゆる文脈やジャンルの規律から一歩踏み出し、新たな音の軌跡を刻むS&Sのサウンドの美学とエッジが余す所なく詰め込まれた、アブストラクトかつ野性的な仕上がりの怪作！名手Giuseppe Ielasiの手によりマスタリング。限定200部。