Ahoj moje hladné prasiatko. Vidím ťa!

Slovakia lacks the glitz of its former compatriot, the Czech Republic, but since its independence in 1993, the country's been shedding its Eastern Bloc past and embracing its own folk culture. The capital of Bratislava is a popular destination but don't bypass the old-world essence of places such as the Spis castle overlooking Spisske Podhradie; Liptovska Sielnica, with its preserved historical homes; and the spas of Piestany. Outdoor enthusiasts will enjoy hiking and skiing the High Tatras.

Right in the heart of Europe, Slovakia is a land of castles and mountains, occasionally punctuated by industrial sprawl. More than a quarter-century after Czechoslovakia's break-up, Slovakia has emerged as a self-assured, independent nation. Capital city Bratislava draws visitors to its resplendent old town and tankard-clanking drinking culture. But Slovakia shines brightest for lovers of the outdoors. Walking trails in the High Tatras wend through landscapes of unearthly beauty, with mirror-still glacier lakes backed by 2000m peaks.

Almost an alternate realm, Slovakia's less-visited east is speckled with quaint churches. Within its national parks are landscapes battle-scarred by the clash of river and stone. Beyond eastern metropolis Košice, a boutique charmer of a city, the Tokaj wine region unfurls across thinly populated countryside.

Despite a storied history and varied topography, Slovakia is small. For visitors, that can mean fortresses, hiking and beer-sloshing merriment – all in the space of a long weekend.

Official name: Slovak Republic
Name in native language: Slovensko (“Slovakia”), or Slovenska republika (“Slovak Republic”)
Capital city: Bratislava
Currency: Euro
Official language: Slovak
Population: 5.500.000
Electricity: 220V
Phones: +421 xxx xxx xxx / 00421 xxx xxx xxx
Emergency call: 112

European Union and NATO member state since 2004

Slovak is a western Slavic language, very closely related to Czech and relatively close to Polish and the languages of the former Yugoslavia.

Nationalities: 85% Slovak (western Slavic in origin), 10% Hungarian, 3% Roma. Significant smaller nationalities include Czechs, Ruthenians, Ukranians, Germans and Poles.
Religions: 63% Roman Catholic, 9% Protestant, 4% Greek Catholic, 2% other churches.

Type of government: republic, with parliamentary democracy.
Head of government: Prime Minister, generally the leader of the largest party in parliament, this post holds most real executive authority.
Legislative body: National Council, a one-house parliament elected at least once every four years.
Head of state: President, elected once every five years, largely ceremonial.
History, identity and culture

Modern Slovakia was born as an independent nation-state in 1993, when it peacefully separated from the Czech Republic, splitting from the former Czechoslovakia by mutual agreement. (There has been no organized conflict of any kind in Slovakia since 1945.) Many foreigners still confuse Slovakia with Slovenia of the former Yugoslavia.  

No discussion of Slovak culture can take place without a nod to the country’s folkloric traditions. From music and dance ensembles, to handicrafts, open-air markets and festivals, we explore how folk traditions are alive and well in modern-day Slovakia, and continue to receive widespread support.  

 

Slovak flag consists of white upper strip, the middle is blue and bottom red. These colors are conventional Slavonic shades. They symbolize Slavonic harmony and independence.

The double cross represents Christian tradition and memory of St. Cyril and St. Methodius, the two missionaries who came to Great Moravia in 863 to strengthen Christianity. They created the first alphabet to be used for Slavonic manuscripts and wrote the first Slavic Civil Code, which was used in Great Moravia.

The three hills represent Tatra, Matra and Fatra mountains. (Matra lies in the north of Hungary.)
The Slovak anthem

The name of the Slovak national anthem is Nad Tatrou sa blýska (Lightning over the Tatras).  The lyric was written by Janko Matúška in February 1844. The melody came from the folk song “Kopala studienku“.

Matuska and some other students left the prestigious Bratislava´s Lutheran lyceum to protest against the removal of their favorite teacher Ludovit Stur from his position by the Lutheran Church. The lyrics reflected the students’ frustration. Ludovit Stur was an author of the Slovak Literary Language.

When Czechoslovakia fell apart in 1993, another stanza was added to the anthem and it resulted in Slovak national anthem.

There is lightning over the Tatras,
thunderclaps wildly beat.
Let us stop them, brothers,
for all that, they will disappear,
the Slovaks will revive.

That Slovakia of ours
has been fast asleep so far,
but the thunder’s lightning
is rousing it
to come to.

Nad Tatrou sa blýska,
hromy divo bijú. (2x)
Zastavme ich, bratia,
veď sa ony stratia,
Slováci ožijú. (2x)

To Slovensko naše
posiaľ tvrdo spalo, (2x)
ale blesky hromu
vzbudzujú ho k tomu,
aby sa prebralo. (2x)

Euro is an official currency in Slovakia since 1st of January 2009. Any Euro coin is valid in any country of the Euro area. Slovak Republic adopted the Euro after 16 years of using Slovak Koruna. The conversion rate was 1 EUR = 30,126 Slovak Crown.

Money can be changed at most bank branches throughout the country, or at currency exchange locations (often a booth, situated at airports, larger train stations, tourist areas and most larger towns). Banks are usually open 9:00-17:00.

Slovak language

Slovak alphabet contains 46 letters. As we use diacritic, it changes pronunciation of letters and words. The following phrases are the ones, you may use when you come to Slovakia and want to start and keep simple conversation:
 

BASIC PHRASES

Hello. Dobrý deň. (DOH-bree deñ)

How are you? Ako sa máte? (AH-koh sah MAA-teh?)

Well, thanks. Ďakujem, dobre. (JAH-koo-yehm DOH-breh)

What is your name? Ako sa voláte? (AH-koh sah VOH-laa-tyeh)

My name is ______ . Volám sa______ . (VOH-laam sah_____.)

Pleased to meet you. Teší ma. (TYEH-shee mah)

Please. Prosím.(PROH-seem)

Thank you. Ďakujem.(JAH-koo-yehm)

You’re welcome. Prosím. (PROH-seem) Nie je za čo. (NYEE_eh yeh ZAH choh)

Yes. Áno. (AAH-noh) Hej (HAY) (informal)

No. Nie. (NYEE_eh)

Help! Pomoc! (POH-mohts!)

Good morning. Dobré ráno. (DOH-brehh RAA-noh)

Good afternoon. Dobrý deň. (DOH-bree deh-NYEH)

Good evening. Dobrý večer. (DOH-bree VEH-chehr)

Good night. Dobrú noc. (DOH-broo nohts)

I don’t understand. Nerozumiem.(NEH-roh-zoo-myehm)

The Slovak language belongs to the languages which are difficult to learn. We decline the nouns and conjugate verbs. The pronunciation is the same like spelling. There are language schools in Slovakia, where you can learn our language. If you cannot find the school in your area, you may use online language courses.

Holidays in Slovakia

State holidays and Sundays

On most holidays and on Sundays, there is little change, although most people have the day off from work. Offices of firms, state administration (including post offices) and all other organizations including all schools will be closed.

Shopping in larger stores and in shopping malls carries on, even if smaller stores often close or have limited hours. 

Culture (museums and performances), recreation, and eating out all continue, often with extra gusto.

Hotels almost always continue to operate, but if your stay includes a major holiday it’s best to double-check.

Travel is easy: petrol stations with convenience stores are almost always open 24 hours per day and 365 days per year; and public transportation in cities and between cities continues, though on a limited schedule.

The exception to this rule comes on Slovakia’s major holidays (this is an unofficial distinction): 25 and 26 December, 1 January, and the Easter weekend. In most areas, a few stores and restaurants will remain open (at petrol stations if you’re desperate), but most are closed.

The following holidays are celebrated in Slovakia:

PUBLIC HOLIDAYS

January 1st – Independence Day; New Year Day
July 5th – Holiday of Saint Cyril and Metod
August 29th –Slovak National Uprising
September 1st – Constitution day
November 17th – Day of Fight for Democracy

RELIGIOUS HOLIDAYS

January 6th – Epiphany
March to April – Easter
September 15th – Our Lady of Sorrows
November 1st – All Saints’ Day
December 24th – Christmas Eve
December 25th – 1st Christmas Day
December 26th – 2nd Christmas Day
BANK HOLIDAYS

May 1st – Labor Day
May 8th – Victory over Fascism Day

COMMEMORATIVE HOLIDAYS

August 4th – Day of Matica Slovenská

SCHOOL HOLIDAY

end of October – start of November – Autumn holidays
end of December – start of January – Christmas holidays
mid February – start of March – Spring holidays
end of March – start of April – Easter holidays
June 29th – September 1st – Summer holidays

 

To speak of Slovak culture and art is to note a tapestry of traditions, customs, folklore, and on the same breath mention its staging under different regimes, and the European context overarching it. Long steeped in an agrarian life while being subjects under the Austro-Hungarian Empire, and then after WWII, as comrades within a Soviet satellite state, Slovaks sought to preserve not only their language but also all those distinctive markings of their culture.

Along the way, Slovaks have also embraced artistic, intellectual, and political movements taking place in Europe, integrating into its particular context. Taken together, all of these influences have left an indelible mark on the “little big country,” offering an impressive array of cultural manifestations with which to represent it.

Anyone interested in Slovak or Central/Eastern European culture and art will find no shortage of folklore and legends, music, films, art, and literature to give voice to the country, its people, and their concerns.

Slovak legends

Slovakia is replete with gothic churches, medieval towns, macabre torture inventions, as well as majestic mountains and looming castles along bucolic rural landscapes. Fittingly, legend after legend arose in such surroundings, many of which were based on enigmatic historical figures.

It’s not surprising that given its landscape and historical past, countless Slovak legends based on captivating figures arose. Slovakia’s many gothic churches, medieval towns, torture recordings, looming mountains and castles serve as open invitations to the stretches of imagination. But then again, the best legends rely on a least some smidgeon of truth. Here are some prominent historical figures to give rise to the stuff of legends.

Elizabeth Bathory

Known to many as the “Blood Countess,” Elizabeth Bathory was the daughter of powerful Hungarian aristocrats. Related to warlords, clerics, bishops, she enjoyed nearly absolute power. In her castle of Cachtice, she exercised that power with a sadistic zealousness that eventually garnered her reputation of being the world’s first female mass murderer. Legend has it that, upon accidentally discovering the youthful effect of blood on the skin, she took to bathing in the blood of young women.

The White Lady of Levoča

Slovakia has three White Ladies; one from Bratislava, one from Bojnice Castle, and another from Levoca. The one from Levoca is based on Julia Korponayova, who, when spying for the Hapsburg emperor in Levoca, a town which was presently besieged by the Hapsburg army outside its walls, became the lover of the rebel Hungarian baron. During the night, she stole his keys, and let the army in, leading to the fall of the town. This didn’t stop her from meeting an unfortunate end, however.

Juraj Janosik

Considered the Slovak Robin Hood for reputedly stealing from the rich to give to the poor, Janosik is a beloved figure in Slovak folk art. He gave rise to many legends, myths, and is a constant mainstay of Slovak literature. Noted for his bravery as a soldier and as a symbol of resistence, Janosik is equally esteemed by Poles; but Janosik’s origins lies in Terchova – a town in Northern Slovakia. Legends surrounding him run aplenty, involving his faultless character as an outlaw with a purpose. One of the better known one is Janosik’s Fist, involving his punishment of an arrogant tyrant on a boulder.

Hedviga

After King Philip of Spis Castle killed the son of a Polish monarch, legend has it that the Polish king sought revenge by killing King Philip’s daughter Barbora. While Barbora and her sister Hedviga were alone in the castle, the Polish king seized the castle. Hedviga, believing her sister to be dead, jumped from the castle’s highest tower. After she jumped, a mysterious face appeared on a wall of the castle that is said to bear a striking resemblance to Hedviga.

Other legends include:

- The Virgin Tower, featuring about a certain knight, Nicolas, whose bride met her tragic end from a tower in the Devin Castle.
- Three Twigs of King Svätopluk, about the Great Moravia king’s lesson of strength through unity.
- The Well of Love, involving a Turkish noble reclaiming his love by digging a well for years until it reached water, and how his efforts were rewarded.
- Bratislava Castle, relating to curious facts about why the castle has such curious characteristics.

John Chantler & Johannes Lund - (2020) Andersabo LP

 

 Johs & John ‎– Johs & John 1 

Building on nearly a decade of friendship, with an evolving creative partnership spanning roughly half that time, Swedish/Australian synthesist, John Chantler, and Danish saxophonist, Johannes Lund, return with Andersabo, their second outing as a duo.

An intricate, thrillingly unbridled blast of carefully controlled sonic anarchy, pushing at the perceptual boundaries of conversant sound, Andersabo captures the collision of two sympathetic, but often radically different, creative pursuits - Chantler’s subtle complexity, composing for electronics, modular synthesis, and acoustic instruments, and Lund’s full tilt constructions for various saxophones, pointedly defying long standing expectations and syntaxes applied to his chosen instrument — in open dialog with landscape beyond.

Recorded during the summer of 2019, while the duo were on a residency in rural Sweden, the LP’s three works present a radical rethinking of aural collectivism. Each is a space within which the environment and its many actors — the floorboards of a barn, a grassy field, distant hills, insects, the pulse of an electric fence, or a passing tractor, threaded with the tones and responses of Lund’s saxophone and Chantler’s pump organ and synth — are given equal presence and voice. A clear, conceptual extension of both artists’ long standing pursuits of collaboration and the building of context, whether creatively or as facilitators, notably via Chantler’s Edition Festival in Stockholm, and Lund’s work within the Danish community as a founder of the legendary space, Mayhem. Andersabo represents a rigorously forward thinking rendering of utopian sound, inextricable from the joy, playfulness, and humour with which it was made. Two artist bound by friendship, dramatically opening the sense of creative possibility for the next.

A poignant reminder that art and its making, as serious as it is, can be thrilling, adventurous, and fun, the album’s opener, Back of the House, weaves an immersive and emotive tapestry of dancing texture and tone where the identity of generative sources flutter in and out of view, stripped of hierarchy. Shifting gears with the final minutes of the first side of the LP, Open Field & Forest packs a remarkable density into its length. Long, harmonic tones of a pump organ fall within a cavernous landscape, captured from beyond the farmhouse walls, its breadth riddled with unplaceable rumbles, clatters, and chirps, giving way as the animalistic howl of saxophone takes hold. With Under Barn Floor, stretching across the entirety of the LP’s second side, Chantler and Lund depart into a gripping, abstract portrait of time and place. Playfully pushing at the conceptual boundaries of drone, the hand of the artists rise and fall as the low frequencies of the bass saxophone and Chantler’s synthesized organ tones are challenged with interventions of insect sounds and countless, happenstance incidents, dancing with electronically generated images of themselves. A journey toward the future, locked within a discrete moment in time, which culminates as a collective intervention between voice, geography, ideas, and chance.

An unpredictable bridge between acoustic and electronic composition and field recording, Andersabo offers a remarkable image of the rewards found through friendship, community, and uninhibited experimentation.

José Orozco Mora - (2020) Formas Aparentes CS

 

Constellation Tatsu ‎– PURR 0113

 

Julien Louvet & Damien Schultz - (2019) ST LP

 

213 Records ‎– 213v50

Julien Louvet , owner of 213 Records and member of Devilish Cheat , The Austrasian Goat and many other groups and projects, teams up with sound-poet Damien Schultz for this untitled collaboration. Schultz declaim his verses in an energetic and almost unstoppable fashion over Louvet's electronic layers made with Power electronics elements, harmonium, piano and various electronic trickeries. Best cuts: July 13th and Just a Little Kisses.

Lena Tsibizova - (2019) 3rd Track

 

Baba Vanga ‎– VNG027 

Lena Tsibizova’s album - entitled simply - *3rd Track* hovers somewhere between distant and not so distant memories or, rather, daydreams. It is a dialogue between two people, lead through piano keys, different microphone effects and random walks through wastelands. The album has been born from a collaboration between Lena and her friend Sasha, during her visits to Saint Petersburg from Moscow, where she's based. “Way to Metallostroy” was inspired by a long stroll through a St Petersburg suburb, for instance. "Call To Mind" is a fractured fantasy, a broken ballad unrolling, going forward and backward at the same time. *3rd Track* is an album that creeks, squeaks, and splinters, but is ultimately soaked in blissful melodies, though they rarely abandon the more melancholic of terrains.

Lucio Capece-Marc Baron - (2018) My Trust In You

 

Erstwhile Records ‎– erstwhile 086

While solo improvisational albums can be, and often are, great, the true potential of freely played and electroacoustic music is realized when two or more artists work together, exploring the way each individual’s contributions interact and coexist. No label supports this argument better than Erstwhile, whose extensive roster of duo records spans a staggering range of creative combinations. My Trust in You, a new disc from reductionist composer Lucio Capece and tape improviser Marc Baron, employs an ambitious arsenal of textures and elements, making use of everything from environmental recordings to noise-encrusted tape loops to disarming passages without any sound at all. Opening track “Believe in Brutus” begins the record in a disorienting fashion; it is here that Capece’s and Baron’s interplay is at its most whimsical and kinetic, with crackling chunks of sound quickly rising, falling, and fighting against interjections of bird chirps and complete silence. In contrast, “Black soils- museums without statues” begins a movement toward more patient, droning structures. It’s a trend that continues throughout the remainder of the tracks, culminating with centerpiece “Kneel for your psychoacoustic rights,” whose cathartic beauty is an unexpected treat after a roiling start. My Trust in You initially seems to be among the more immediate of Erstwhile’s releases, but soon reveals that many more layers are in need of uncovering.

Luke Stewart - (2018) Works for Upright Bass and Amplifier

 

 Astral Spirits ‎– AS067

By now if you don't know Luke Stewart you're behind. Stewart is a force on the Washington DC scene not only as a performer (in Irreversible Entanglements, James Brandon Lewis Trio, Trio OOO, Ancestral Duo and more) but also as a booker, promoter, radio DJ and more. "Works for Upright Bass & Amplifier" is a long form piece Stewart composed using written & original improvised structures. He's been performing various portions of the piece live at art exhibitions throughout 2017.

M. Geddes Gengras - (2019) I Am the Last of That Green and Warm-Hued World CS

 

Hausu Mountain ‎– HAUSMO 88

M.GG unfolds an epic, multi-dimensional tapestry of terra-forming electronics ranking among his most vividly abundant and ecologically sound with ‘I Am the Last of That Green and Warm-Hued World’

“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.”

Machinefabriek - (2012) Forks CS

 

Banned Production ‎– BP201

A tape with music recorded with tuning forks, steel wool, contact mics, memo recorders, looped cassettes an answering machine tape, a ring modulator and looper pedals. Quite a gentle release.

Machinefabriek - (2019) Melodrama CS

 

 Champion Version ‎– CV201911

A question like that is always a nice reminder for something I really like... to focus on a short amount of music. It’s a bit like writing a short story instead of a book. There’s still something of the ‘album feel’ in there; two tracks that are closely related, both part of the same story. But there’s not the issue of having to deal with the arc or dynamics of a complete full length record. In a way, this gives me the freedom to be more explorative and playful, like you could probably hear in my previous Champion Version 7-inch, ‘Snoepgoed’, and in this new one ‘Melodrama’.

‘Melodrama’ started by recording an online drum machine with a dodgy 4-track, then playing that back through a few effects pedals and looping bits of it. The resulting rhythm is the foundation of ‘Melodrama 1’, on which I started to arrange midi instruments onto, very intuitively. What started as something with a sort of lo-fi Autechre feel, to me anyway, became something completely different. Quite cinematic, and perhaps a bit… melodramatic? Well, I guess sometimes that’s how I like it.

 

Machinefabriek with Anne Bakker - (2020) Oehoe 12''

 

Where To Now? ‎– WTN63

Oehoe’, produced in collaboration with viola / violinist Anne Bakker, a classically trained solo artist in her own right, Machinefabriek here has sown a landscape of Anne’s raw violin, viola, and vocal improvisations into a stirring body of work which merges tradition, experimentation, and whimsical curiosity to create a distinctively unique album which is both deeply moving and playfully dissonant in equal measure.

"Given that Anne’s improvised vocals are wordless throughout, it is to Rutger’s absolute credit that he has assembled and transcended these intonations to often devastating emotional effect. Anne’s vocal experiments exude a classical polyphonic antiquity, they lushly hover above her own Reichian minimalist string arrangements, and Machinefabriek’s deeply brooding, cacophonic synthesized soundscapes. Across these 10 pieces we delve into a world which seamlessly moves between a state of harmonious contentment; or a very murky calm, to moments of lively ecstasy, and deep deep down to a vast and brooding melancholy." 

Nate Wooley - (2010) Trumpet-Amplifier LP

 

Smeraldina-Rima ‎– 11

This is one of the strangest records I've listened to in a while, and yet it's also an easy record to give 5 stars to simply because what you hear on this record defies any expectations of what a solo trumpet record, even with an amplifier, would or should sound like. It's this second element, the amplifier, which defines the outcome of Nate Wooley's sound explorations. I use the expression 'sound exploration' as what you hear on this record is anything but music in conventional terms, more an exploration of the sonic possibilities of a trumpet. Wooley investigates the various sounds produced (and not normally heard), brought to the fore via the amplifier, a kind of microscopic sound-view of a brass instrument. Others before have also found new directions on which to experiment such as Evan Parker, Joelle Leandre, Derek Bailey, or more recently trumpeter Alex Boney, and it seems that Nate Wooley is following in the same direction, looking to find new ways of using his instrument.

As for the LP itself. Side One has two tracks : 1) Trumpet A, 2) Trumpet B. Side Two, one track titled quite simply 'Amplifier'. I can imagine looking at this you wonder if it's possible to keep ones attention throughout, and if so are the tracks that different. The answer in both cases is 'yes, no problem'. The opening track takes you a short while to enter into and understand what you're actually listening to, but once you've 'caught on' the rest is just 'sit back and listen'. Even if the sounds are abstract to begin with, little by little you hear Nate Wooley's thinking process unfold as he uses both sound and rhythm in these improvisations which at times sound like early computer generated sound. In fact whilst watching a performance of this music I noticed he not only blows into the trumpet, but sometimes spits, blows at, talks, hits, and sings into his instrument, a more physical approach than the standard playing technique. The three tracks passed by as if in the blink of an eye and I ended up placing the needle back at the beginning as if to confirm what I'd heard, after all did I just hear a trumpet record where no actually brass (musical) note was sounded?

I can recommend this album to all who are interested by new sounds, techniques and their possibilities. Of course if you're into the sound experiments of the likes of Schaeffer, Stockhausen, or even certain moments of Supersilent etc, you'll be quite comfortable with this music, like old friends. I'd love to hear how Wooley and Paul Lytton combine these sonic possibilities in there duo CD reviewed elsewhere. One should note that this is a limited edition of 495 LPs, so if you're interested you better get your copy whilst it's available.

Opening Performance Orchestra - (2019) Creeping Waves IV CD

 

Drone Records ‎– none 

Czech avant-garde and noise music group from Prague, active since 2006. Its seven members have previously collaborated (both musically and otherwise) for almost two decades. The group follows the path of 20th-century avant-garde composers and of Japanese noise music, and is based on so-called “fraction music” and the slogan “no melody, no rhythm, no harmony”. The group has created its own compositions as well as reinterpretations of the works of composers with whom Opening Performance Orchestra feels a kindred spirit.

Ross Alexander - (2019) Memorias Vol. 2 - High Atlas to the Sahara Desert LP

 

Discrepant ‎– CREP68 

Ross Alexander first came to our attention with Memorias Vol.1 - Bugandan Sacred Places, released back in 2017 on Sucata Tapes, it featured a mind altering mix of recorded sounds from a series of visited sites considered sacred within the Bugandan kingdom and session recordings with Ugandan musicians Albert Sempeke and the Nilotika Collective layered with his own original composition using the Yamaha DX7 and programmed FM synthesis. The result being a unique reconfiguration of new age vocabulary with East African traditional sensibilities. The tape quickly sold out and the new Volume of Memorias presented here arrives now on the mother label Discrepant, on Vinyl with an expanded sound palette appropriate to the format.

Memorias Vol.2 - High Atlas to The Sahara Desert is the logical progression of Volume 1. - based on a series of field recordings Alexander made during a trip through the High Atlas Mountains and into the Sahara Desert in 2018. The aim of the trip was to visit a gathering of nomadic musicians at an oasis close to the Algerian border. Like Memorias Vol1. the recordings made on the trip were then later processed, layered and arranged with original compositions. Where Vol1. had clear nods to New Age music this volume explores the more ambient side of 80’s Industrial sound.

Rüdiger Lorenz - (2015) The Syntape Years 1981-1983 5xLP

 

Vinyl-on-demand ‎– VOD134

Rüdiger Lorenz is a german electronic Synthesist and inventor of several modular synthesizer systems. In the likes and manner of Conrad Schnitzler , Edgar Froese, Dieter Moebius and Hans Joachim Roedelius he started producing unique, exceptional electronic soundscapes and experimental hard to find comparisons for.

He is one of a very few outstanding artists that seem to never have receive the recognition and fame they should have deserved for their artistic output over 3 decades. Even more important for VOD-Records to write proper history and honor his works in form of a 5LP-Set.

The focus of this Box is set on his 4 earliest Tape-Works released in the early 80’s on his own label; Queen of Saba, Silversteps, Wonderflower and Earthrise.

Queen of Saba was also licensed and released on Werner Pieper’s Transmitter Kassetten who also distributed many of Conrad Schnitzlers Tape-Works. Earthrise (a compilation of his early works and several newer compositions was released on the British YHR-Tapes (York House Recordings)-Label run by David Elliot.

Rüdiger Lorenz became interested in electronic music and Moog Synthesizers already in the late 60’s. By 1972 he built his own first Wersi-Organ, followed by various amplifiers and effect Boxes.

In 1977 he constructed his first synthesizers from an Elektor Formant Kit. Until his death in the year 2000 he owned 38 synthesizers including three large self-built modular systems

In the late 70’s and early 80’s he became a member of the IEMA (International Electronic Music Association established by James Finch of the Nightcrawlers)

And was starting to run his own Recording-Studio named Lorenz Park Studio. He then became an essential part and pioneering member of the international DIY & Cassette-Culture Community in the early 80’s and contributed to releases such as Inkeys and Idiosyncratics.

With the well established international contacts he and another german synthesist, Peter Schäfer, he started the Tape-Label Syntape and released more than 30 releases in the coming 5 years. By 1983 and fort he coming 5 years he took the next step and started to produce several Vinyl-Releases on his newly established Syncord-Label. Many of them in limited editions and high on collectors-demand.

araabMUZIK - (2021) TRAP SOUL EP

 

 Genre Defying Entertainment – none

araabMUZIK emerged at a time when electronic music and hip-hop were reuniting. At the top of the 2010s, the EDM trap sound took over the world but araabMUZIK was certainly one of the few who kept it grounded to its roots. He'd chop up EDM samples on an MPC in the way that many of the forefathers would sample soul and breakbeats, transforming it into a whole new sound for a new generation.

The rapper returned with his latest body of work that encapsulates this notion titled, TRAP SOUL. The five-track EP explores both sides of araabMUZIK's influence for an atmospheric eighteen-minute sonic journey. No features, just araabMUZIK left to his own devices on this one.

------------------

AraabMuzik was inspired by heavyweight rap producers Dr. Dre, Swizz Beatz, and Just Blaze, but is known to incorporate samples from high-gloss trance singles into his output.

The Providence, Rhode Island native, born Abraham Orellana, creates hard-hitting beats swathed in dramatic strings, spiked with repetitive piano and synthesizer vamps, and switches between stripped-down and layered arrangements to equal effect.

During the latter half of the 2000s, he broke into the Dipset camp, where he contributed productions to tracks by the Diplomats, Duke Da God, Jim Jones, Cam’ron, and Vado, and he went outside the crew to assist Capone-N-Noreaga on 2010’s The War Report 2. The same year, he issued a mixtape of instrumentals, a volume in the Instrumental Kings series, and followed it in 2011 with Electronic Dream — a dance album featuring samples of tracks by Jam & Spoon, Ian van Dahl, and Kaskade.

During the next few years, he released numerous mixtapes and EPs as recordings by the likes of 50 Cent, Troy Ave, and Azealia Banks, which featured his productions, reached the public.

He survived shootings that occurred during a pair of attempted robberies in 2013 and 2016.

Later in 2016, he released Dream World, his second proper album. That same year he lent his production skills to Joe Budden’s Rage & the Machine album before returning to his own music in the spring of 2017 with the “Wanted” single featuring Nevelle Viracocha.

VA - (1998) Blood & Guts CS

 Self Released ‎–  FLAC

Cucina Povera & Els - (2020) The Oystercatcher

 

Editions Mego ‎– EMEGO 284

The Oystercatcher is the first collaborative LP from Cucina Povera (Maria Rossi) and ELS (Edward Simpson)
Recorded in London over two days, hours’ worth of improvisations have been edited down to form these six tracks.
A fragile interplay is at work between Maria’s drifting vocals and the ominous churn of Edward’s modular synth. Each sonic element takes a turn at leading the way.
The opening track ‘Mantle’ is formed from sparse, monolithic electronics, woven gently with a thread of vocals. In the closing track ‘Eon’ Maria’s voice shepherds spontaneous bursts of sounds, almost Rave-like if order were imposed, through 15 minutes of turmoil and resplendent until the end.
Maria’s vocals make their own trails amongst the noise, bringing to mind the the exploratory language from Ursula K. Le Guin’s album ‘Music and Poetry from the Kesh’, recalling the same understated mystery.
The overall effect of this collaboration is a completely unique creation albeit within a recognisable lineage of predecessors.
The artwork reflects the vision of these two artists, collaged together. Both images are from a trip to Helsinki. Edward’s photograph of Tulips caught after dark are reviled by a flash. Maria’s seemingly abstract drawing is a graphite rubbing taken from a granite slab of a pavement somewhere in Kallio. Together the two images represent two different methods for capturing a city’s haptic landscape.
The album moves with a feeling of transience, which is no surprise given that the idea to collaborate was formed in Helsinki, realised in London and edited together in Rotterdam.
The Oystercatcher tells a fragile tale, one that spins out into the unknown. A cold union of voice and machine, still tentative and probing, learning to co-exist. A kind of fundamental shift whereby shared moments have been turned to sound.
The Oystercatcher is a bird that can freely travel between the earth, sea and sky. The motif is taken from a Tove Jansson short story. A dead bird washes ashore, two different versions of events are presented to how the bird came to die. The album feels like two different stories being presented on top of one another but ultimately coming to the same tragic conclusion.

Claudio Rocchetti - (2019) Island Within An Island 7''

 

 Zen Hex ‎– ZX009

In the second act of Panorama, Claudio Rocchetti idealize self-discovery, embarking on a journey through a land once thriving and now stripped of every meaning.

Like a silent observer, he wanders through the meanders of a pale and intangible non-place, witnessing the residual memories of an urban cemetery: abandoned and decrepit structures, whose skeletons remain as a symbol of a lost daydream. Imperceptible frequencies of deafening silence leak the images of the last inhabitants abandoning the island under a thunderous storm; the wind carries the howling sound of a horn, the very last ship leaving that deserted land.

The journey concludes in feeling even more lost, alone in solitude, like an island within an island.

Claudio Rocchetti - (2019) Syrian Edge 7''

 

 Zen Hex ‎– ZX008

Syrian Edge is the first act of Panorama – a triptych investigating the work of Claudio Rocchetti, his thorough research on sound as a profound medium to memory. It guides the listener – like in a long cinematic take – through imaginary Suqs crowded with undefined chattering, spices scents and abrupt Lauds, a sequence of scenes clashing and crashing on each other, demanding attention. Sound becomes memory, with its own tone, rhythm and timbre, alive, vivid and throbbing in its surreal normality.

Christoph Heemann - (2010) Mighty Joe Young CS

 

 Dom Bartwuchs ‎– DOM BW 08

 

Catherine Lamb - (2019) Atmospheres Transparent / Opaque CD

 

New World Records ‎– 80806 

I have been attempting to describe, in more elemental terms, the perceptual roles between musicians who are activating interactions in harmonic space. Overlays Transparent/Opaque (2013) was an initial attempt towards showing forms aside phenomenological clarities in which to enter from relational and therefore parallaxical points, in this case through shifting overlays. As though to place individual crystals, one by one, amongst the musicians, and to have them find their place of vibrancy or shadow due to the angle in which they are seeing the form. Rather than terms like loud/soft or foreground/background, opaque might suggest a tone that is filled, dense, and vibrant, whereas transparent might indicate a tone that is losing its fundamentality, becoming fused into the intensity of opacity; or that one might see through its sound, becoming atmospheric. The seven overlays are in constant flux, but the forms are synoptic, placed on their own and in their own space, as objects.

Prisma Interius IX (2018), in contrast, would be one large crystal placed amongst the musicians, rotating with filtered light. So that each unfolding of the tonalities illuminates the form that is always present, allowing for a feeling of constant expansion…. Prisma Interius IX is the culmination of a series of pieces written between late 2016 to summer 2018, examining particular (perhaps archaic) musical roles, and how they situate within the phenomenological/perceptual space my work has been growing into for the past 14 years. Elemental questions have been important in the series, like how is one tone a pivot between activating a total harmonic space as well as expanding a contour in time? There were many threads in the series, such as how to create structural changes through various conceptual shifts of a prism, the role of the voice, but the most obvious was the development of the secondary rainbow synthesizer, in collaboration with Bryan Eubanks since 2014, named after the faint shadow to the more brilliant primary visual. The instrument filters the adjacent environment to the listening space by literally fusing harmonically with chaotic atmospheric elements being picked up by the microphones outside. The role becomes a kind of highlighting continuo or tanpura to the more clearly articulating musical activity played by the ensemble, while also attempting a bridge for the listener towards an infinite, expanding space (in ideal terms).

Bill Ding - (1997) Trust in God, But Tie Up Your Camel CD

 

Hefty Records ‎– HEFTY05 

As part of the '90s Chicago indie scene, you can bet Bill Ding were familiar with musical elements as divergent as jazz, industrial grind, and jarring electronics, and indeed, the band mixed and matched those elements better than most, in the process throwing in all manner of other musical and emotional concoctions. All these elements came to a superlatively realized confluence on the band's second and, sadly, final full-length effort. Without ever sounding contrived or labored, Trust in God But Tie Up Your Camel touches upon myriad sources and pulls them seamlessly together as if they were meant to be that way. In fact, "labored" was the farthest concept from the band's mind. They give little impression that they push anything very hard, everything simply falls into place whether it is sonically harsh or hushed and insular, and they leave well enough alone. John Hughes III provides whiplash electronics to Dan Sazelle's guitar and bass, Rick Embach's vibes, and Pat Kenney's drumming, and the band is equally at home whipping up an avant frenzy or unraveling gentle ambience, orchestral washes, or delicate folk. When Hughes adds his Beck-like slack vocals, it ties all the contrasting musical elements together so that it sounds neither agitated nor sleepy; rather it is supremely laid-back and enveloping and inclusive, if self-consciously experimental and deconstructionist. It never, though, comes off glibly clever. There is so much going on that the album requires repeated listening, but once its initial jolting impact sinks in, it is easy to take in the beatnik-like vibe that comes through on songs like "Goddamn Your Thing" and "Make It Pretty," the brilliant, intense, hard trip-hop ("Waterway Systems Two"), playful dub ("Outbreak"), kinetic drum'n'bass ("WCNI?," "Vaporize") and pretty acoustic balladry ("Short Strings," "The Beat of Murmur") all sprinkled with jazz. It all comes together as a single music from a single band with a single impulse, and it is all wonderful.

 Hefty Records ‎– HEFTY05

As part of the '90s Chicago indie scene, you can bet Bill Ding were familiar with musical elements as divergent as jazz, industrial grind, and jarring electronics, and indeed, the band mixed and matched those elements better than most, in the process throwing in all manner of other musical and emotional concoctions. All these elements came to a superlatively realized confluence on the band's second and, sadly, final full-length effort. Without ever sounding contrived or labored, Trust in God But Tie Up Your Camel touches upon myriad sources and pulls them seamlessly together as if they were meant to be that way. In fact, "labored" was the farthest concept from the band's mind. They give little impression that they push anything very hard, everything simply falls into place whether it is sonically harsh or hushed and insular, and they leave well enough alone. John Hughes III provides whiplash electronics to Dan Sazelle's guitar and bass, Rick Embach's vibes, and Pat Kenney's drumming, and the band is equally at home whipping up an avant frenzy or unraveling gentle ambience, orchestral washes, or delicate folk. When Hughes adds his Beck-like slack vocals, it ties all the contrasting musical elements together so that it sounds neither agitated nor sleepy; rather it is supremely laid-back and enveloping and inclusive, if self-consciously experimental and deconstructionist. It never, though, comes off glibly clever. There is so much going on that the album requires repeated listening, but once its initial jolting impact sinks in, it is easy to take in the beatnik-like vibe that comes through on songs like "Goddamn Your Thing" and "Make It Pretty," the brilliant, intense, hard trip-hop ("Waterway Systems Two"), playful dub ("Outbreak"), kinetic drum'n'bass ("WCNI?," "Vaporize") and pretty acoustic balladry ("Short Strings," "The Beat of Murmur") all sprinkled with jazz. It all comes together as a single music from a single band with a single impulse, and it is all wonderful.

Bonnie Baxter - (2019) Axis CS

 

Hausu Mountain ‎– HAUSMO 95

Hey, didn’t Björk get some attention for exploring the iPad’s music production capabilities a while back? Apps in that vein have certainly progressed since 2011’s Biophilia, but puritans of every nationality have to be rethinking these technological advancements now that Bonnie Baxter’s discovered their utility in creating music that strips you of your innocence about as quickly as a priest with extra wafers in his quarters.

Baxter released her debut solo album Ask Me How Satan Started last year after gaining some industrial attention via the Kill Alters project (w/Nicos Kennedy and Hisham Bharoocha), and that release proceeded naturally in terms of Baxter’s wayward vocals and the claustrophobic percussion that limited any escape potential. Parts were downright uncomfortable. Are you into that sort of thing? If you are into that sort of thing (+ continued iPad usage), please read on.

AXIS is set for release October 11 on Hausu Mountain; and even though the claustrophobia is still there, replace the noise of her previous effort with an attempt to let her vocals breathe, and suddenly Baxter is really allowing you to absorb the apparent mania. The sound seems less dissonant overall compared to Ask Me, and shockingly, you’d be forgiven for mistaking the track “SPIRIT ENEMA” with a remix of a 90s lounge song. It seems we’ve entered the mushrooms phase of this adventure.

Jim O'Rourke - (1992) Scend CD

 

 Divided ‎– DIV01 

First released on CD by Divided in 1992 and reissued on vinyl 11 years later by Three Poplars, Scend is a beautiful piece of field recordings, very different from Jim O'Rourke's other albums (which already display a wide variety of styles and approaches). Field recordings of various nature are combined into a loose narrative. It sounds simple, but giving sense to the construction is where the art resides, and O'Rourke nails it with impressive results. In the first half of the piece you mostly hear water sounds and bowed metal. An accordion lets out a lone winding note, answered by the passing siren of an ambulance. Traffic noise is replaced by falling water drops in the very end of the first part. This assemblage runs smoothly and seamlessly, retaining the feel of field recording throughout (i.e., if electroacoustic transformations are involved, it doesn't show). The first half could be described as cold or devoid of human presence (save for the traffic sounds) compared to the second half. It begins with a playground recording. A passing airplane buries the children's laughter, soon abruptly cut by something (crate? door?) shut close. This sudden move introduces a section of electronic sounds, startling at first considering what came before but interesting and pertinent nonetheless, adding more human presence as the hand of the composer is felt for the first time. Church bells seep in for the finale. Recommended. [The LP edition is pressed on clear vinyl .except tis' the CD by one of the usual suspects , who doubtless will pay dearly one day.

Jim O'Rourke - (1997) Bad Timing CD

 

Drag City ‎– DC120

Released in 1997, Jim O'Rourke's Bad Timing is the first in a trilogy of solo releases to be named after films by British director Nicolas Roeg. O'Rourke's significance as a guitarist and experimental composer had already been well established, and by the time of this solo outing his work with David Grubbs in the post-rock group Gastr del Sol had begun to show elements of the organic, fingerpicked guitar style he explores more deeply on these four lengthy tracks. Entirely instrumental and mysteriously packaged with no track titles, Bad Timing was a bit of an enigma for its time. The most obvious influence is that of American Primitive guitarist John Fahey, whose spirit imbues O'Rourke's wayfaring compositions with a strange but good-natured folksy charm, especially on the front half of the wonderful second track. Also present are avant-garde fragments of the Chicago indie scene to which he was closely associated. Tracks that take five or six minutes to develop suddenly change on a dime with an audible tape splice, dramatic rhythmic shift, or the addition of a horn section. Tortoise drummer John McEntire makes a guest appearance, as does ace steel guitarist Ken Champion, whose long, breezy parts act as a perfect foil to O'Rourke's staccato punctuations. Tempos and rhythms wobble and flutter, varying from one moment to the next and suggesting a good deal of improvisation on the initial guitar tracks, which often receive warm layers of organ, piano, bells, and accordion, as in the midsection of the near-mystical third track. Each track acts as its own little suite with sections that are as unpredictable as they are enchanting, hanging together in a sort of cerebral level that feels loosely organized yet beautifully orchestrated. For all its eccentricity, it seems like it should be more of a challenge to enjoy, but the wonderful thing about Bad Timing is how surprisingly palatable it all is. By the time the final marching band/Western swing collision winds to a close on track four, the natural reaction is simply to press play and begin the record again. 

Jim O'Rourke - 1999 - Eureka CD

 Drag City ‎– DC162

The CD edition of Eureka occupies an interesting place in Jim O’Rourke’s catalog because it represents the record in its original physical form, before high-resolution downloads and streaming gradually became the default way many listeners encountered it. Released by Drag City in 1999, the compact disc presents the album as a carefully sequenced forty-two-minute work whose pacing depends on uninterrupted movement from beginning to end. There are only eight tracks, but each one feels positioned with remarkable precision, creating a listening experience that values flow over individual highlights. :contentReference[oaicite:0]{index=0}

Unlike many singer-songwriter records that revolve around direct autobiography, Eureka approaches songwriting through arrangement. Every instrument has a purpose beyond simple accompaniment. Brass, strings, pedal steel, keyboards and percussion continually reshape the emotional direction of each composition, often changing the atmosphere more dramatically than the lyrics themselves. O’Rourke's background in experimental composition never disappears. Instead, it quietly informs how every layer is introduced, balanced and eventually removed.

One of the album's greatest strengths is its economy. Nothing feels excessive despite the richness of the instrumentation. A horn section may appear for only a few phrases before disappearing completely. A short piano figure might quietly redirect an entire song without announcing itself. The arrangements reward repeated listening because they never overwhelm the central melodies, yet there is always another small detail waiting underneath the surface.

The musicians surrounding O’Rourke come largely from Chicago's adventurous musical community, but Eureka never sounds like an experimental record disguised as pop. Instead, it demonstrates how sophisticated musical ideas can exist comfortably inside concise songs. Jazz players avoid extended improvisation, while orchestral instruments avoid sentimental excess. Every performance serves the architecture of the composition rather than individual display.

The lyrics deserve just as much attention. O’Rourke writes with a dry sense of humor that often disguises disappointment, frustration and emotional distance. Many lines initially sound conversational before revealing unexpected complexity after several listens. His understated vocal delivery strengthens this effect. Rather than dramatizing every phrase, he allows the words to exist almost casually, trusting listeners to discover their weight over time.

That restraint is part of what makes Eureka age so well. The record refuses fashionable production techniques that would firmly locate it within the late 1990s. Instead, the arrangements draw from decades of popular music without settling comfortably into any one tradition. Hints of orchestral pop, soft rock, American folk, film music and classic studio craftsmanship all appear, but none dominate. O’Rourke absorbs those influences into something distinctly his own.

The compact disc format also suits the album's proportions. At just over forty minutes, Eureka feels complete without overstaying its welcome. Every composition contributes something different to the overall sequence, whether introducing larger ensemble passages, quieter moments of reflection or unexpectedly playful detours. By the closing moments, the record has explored a surprisingly broad emotional range while remaining remarkably cohesive.

Looking back more than twenty-five years later, Eureka continues to stand as one of Jim O’Rourke's defining achievements, not because it abandoned his experimental interests, but because it demonstrated how those interests could quietly strengthen traditional songwriting instead of competing with it. The album remains approachable without becoming predictable, meticulously arranged without sounding mechanical, and emotionally complex without relying on grand gestures. Its lasting appeal comes from that balance, where careful craftsmanship and understated performances continually reveal new details every time the disc returns to the player.

Jim O'Rourke - 2001 - Insignificance CD

 

 Drag City ‎– DC202

Insignificance is one of those records that benefits from returning in a simple MP3 folder. Removed from packaging, liner notes and the physical ritual of handling the CD, the songs have to carry everything on their own. Fortunately, they do. Even as compressed files, these recordings lose very little of what makes them compelling. The arrangements remain remarkably open, the guitars retain their bite, and Jim O'Rourke's dry vocal delivery still cuts through with its mixture of resignation, sarcasm and quiet confidence.

Released by Drag City in 2001, Insignificance followed the sophisticated chamber-pop of Eureka but deliberately shifted toward a fuller band sound. Electric guitars move closer to the front, the rhythm section becomes heavier, and the overall feel owes as much to classic rock records of the early 1970s as it does to the experimental music world where O'Rourke had already established himself. Yet nothing about the album feels like an exercise in nostalgia. Familiar sounds are reorganized into something that belongs entirely to him. :contentReference[oaicite:0]{index=0}

What stands out after repeated listening is how naturally the performances breathe. Glenn Kotche and Tim Barnes never reduce the songs to straightforward rock rhythms, while Darin Gray's bass constantly shifts between holding the arrangements together and quietly pulling against them. Jeff Tweedy's occasional guitar appearances add rough texture rather than obvious guest-star moments, and the brass contributions from Rob Mazurek and Ken Vandermark expand the songs without overwhelming them. Everyone serves the composition rather than individual virtuosity.

The sequencing is another reason the album remains so satisfying. Seven songs in just under forty minutes leaves no room for unnecessary diversions. Every piece introduces a different emotional angle while maintaining the same overall atmosphere. "All Downhill From Here" immediately establishes the record's skeptical voice, while "Memory Lame" and "Good Times" reveal O'Rourke's gift for pairing memorable melodies with lyrics that refuse easy emotional resolution. By the time "Get a Room" and "Life Goes Off" close the record, the album has gradually increased in scale without ever feeling overstated.

O'Rourke's lyrics remain among his sharpest. Rather than writing straightforward confessional songs, he constantly shifts perspective. The narrator may sound self-aware one moment and completely unreliable the next. Humor sits beside bitterness, tenderness appears unexpectedly inside sarcasm, and simple conversational phrases gradually reveal complicated emotional undercurrents. His voice rarely emphasizes these changes. The calm delivery makes the words even more effective because they arrive without theatrical performance.

One of the album's greatest achievements is its balance between accessibility and complexity. The hooks are immediate enough that many of the choruses stay with the listener after a single play, yet the arrangements continue revealing new details years later. A guitar harmony hidden beneath the vocal, a subtle keyboard figure, an unexpected brass entrance or a small rhythmic change can completely alter how a familiar passage feels. The songs reward attention without demanding specialized knowledge.

Listening through MP3 files also highlights how durable the recordings themselves are. They were never dependent on audiophile presentation or exaggerated production tricks. The strength lies in the songwriting, the musicianship and the careful balance of every instrument within the mix. Compression may smooth a few edges, but the record's personality remains completely intact.

More than two decades after its release, Insignificance continues to occupy a unique place within O'Rourke's body of work. It connects the discipline of his experimental background with the directness of rock songwriting, creating an album that is immediately enjoyable while remaining endlessly rewarding to revisit. Whether encountered on the original CD, vinyl, high-resolution download or a simple MP3 folder, these seven songs continue to sound thoughtful, restless and quietly uncompromising.

Jim O'Rourke - (2018) Sleep Like It's Winter

 

NEWHERE MUSIC ‎– NWM-002

Sleep opens with delicately stretched horns, which give way to a methodical piano line that wanders in and out of gradually sharpening drones with enough drama to discourage background listening. Put this on while you’re cleaning the house, and it will unsettle your subconscious; a focused listen, however, reveals subtle tension mounting throughout the piece. A conspicuous crescendo suggests that, even when working with such a vast canvas, O’Rourke never loses sight of its structural frames. Around the 16-minute mark, these sounds give way to silence, save for some buzzing cicadas and a few calling birds. For several minutes (though not quite 4:33), the environment surrounding O’Rourke becomes the only instrument, a solo of sorts that serves the structural purpose of bridging the record’s two halves. 

Jim O'Rourke - 2019 - Side A / Side B 12''

 

Diagonal ‎– DIAG049

Side A / Side B feels surprisingly complete even when separated from its original vinyl presentation. As two long-form pieces collected together in a digital folder, the recording becomes less about the mechanics of flipping a record and more about the contrast between two complementary approaches to electronic composition. Rather than functioning as separate tracks, "Side A" and "Side B" behave like two perspectives on the same creative conversation, each examining similar ideas through different methods of movement, texture and duration.

The project began with Jim O'Rourke reshaping material supplied by Alessio Natalizia, better known as Not Waving, but it gradually evolved into something much more collaborative. Additional sounds were exchanged, the original concept expanded, and the finished release became its own work instead of a conventional remix. That transformation is audible throughout. The music never sounds like one artist simply decorating another's compositions. Instead, the two sensibilities merge into something neither would likely have produced independently. :contentReference[oaicite:0]{index=0}

"Side A" immediately establishes a spacious, patient atmosphere. Repeating synthesizer figures circle through slowly changing harmonic patterns while new layers quietly accumulate around them. The movement is almost architectural. Rather than building toward an obvious climax, the composition continually enlarges its own interior space. Every additional sound changes the proportions of the whole, making familiar patterns feel subtly different each time they return.

O'Rourke has always been remarkably skilled at writing long-form music that never appears to hurry, and that ability is especially effective here. Time seems to stretch naturally. The listener stops measuring progress by minutes and instead begins noticing changes in density, brightness and harmonic color. A sequence that initially feels static gradually reveals constant internal activity, rewarding careful listening without demanding analytical attention.

"Side B" shifts the balance without abandoning the same patient philosophy. More active rhythmic figures begin weaving through the arrangement, creating gentle forward momentum while avoiding conventional electronic beats. Pulses appear, overlap and dissolve into one another, giving the recording an unsettled energy that never becomes frantic. The piece feels simultaneously precise and unpredictable, allowing mechanical repetition and organic drift to coexist.

One of the release's greatest strengths is its production. Every synthesizer layer occupies a carefully judged position, creating impressive depth without overcrowding the stereo field. Bright arpeggios, sustained drones and quieter background textures remain clearly defined while blending into a unified environment. The recording has remarkable clarity, but it never feels clinically separated or overly polished. Individual details emerge naturally as attention moves through the mix.

The dialogue between repetition and variation keeps both pieces continually engaging. Patterns return often enough to establish familiarity, yet each repetition carries slightly different emotional weight because surrounding harmonies have shifted. O'Rourke avoids dramatic structural breaks in favor of gradual transformation, allowing tiny adjustments to reshape the listener's experience over time.

Although the release runs for just over twenty minutes, it possesses the same expansive quality found throughout much of O'Rourke's later electronic work. The compositions never feel compressed or hurried. Instead, they create the impression of much larger environments extending beyond the limits of the recording itself. Side A / Side B ultimately succeeds because it treats collaboration as an opportunity for exploration rather than compromise, bringing together two distinct musical languages while preserving the curiosity, patience and careful attention to texture that define O'Rourke's finest electronic recordings.

Jim O'Rourke - 2019 - To Magnetize Money and Catch a Roving Eye 4xCD

 

Sonoris ‎– sns-16 

Experiencing To Magnetize Money and Catch a Roving Eye as an MP3 folder changes the way the work unfolds. The original four-disc edition naturally introduces pauses every hour or so, asking the listener to stop, change discs and begin again. A digital folder removes those interruptions. Whether played as four continuous files or merged into a single playlist, the music feels even more like one extended environment instead of a boxed set. It becomes easier to lose track of where one section ends and another begins, which suits the composition remarkably well.

This is not an album built around memorable themes or recurring melodies. Instead, Jim O'Rourke constructs a massive listening space from drones, electronics, environmental recordings and carefully sculpted textures that are constantly shifting just beyond immediate perception. At first the changes seem almost nonexistent, but after twenty or thirty minutes it becomes obvious that the sound has quietly transformed into something completely different. The music rarely announces these transitions. It simply continues moving beneath the surface until the listener realizes they have arrived somewhere new. 

One of the pleasures of hearing this as digital files is the freedom to approach it in different ways. The complete four-hour journey offers the richest experience, but individual parts also function as self-contained studies in atmosphere. An evening with just the first section reveals one character, while another day might naturally fit one of the later movements. Unlike many long-form experimental works, these pieces never feel incomplete when heard independently. They connect to each other, but each develops its own internal balance of density, silence and movement.

The recording rewards careful listening through headphones. Tiny details appear at the edges of the stereo image—faint crackling, distant mechanical tones, soft environmental sounds and layers of feedback that almost disappear into the background before gradually moving toward the foreground. None of these elements compete for attention. Instead, they cooperate to create an unusually convincing sense of physical space. O'Rourke's production has always emphasized depth over spectacle, and this release may be one of the clearest demonstrations of that approach.

There is also an unusual emotional quality running throughout the work. Although the sounds often seem dark, they never become oppressive. Low-frequency drones, distant electrical hums and blurred field recordings suggest abandoned industrial spaces or quiet nighttime landscapes, yet the music remains strangely welcoming. It encourages long periods of concentration without relying on obvious drama. Even passages containing harsher frequencies feel integrated into the overall flow rather than functioning as moments of shock.

The absence of conventional musical structure also changes how time is experienced. Minutes stop feeling important. Instead of waiting for the next event, the listener gradually adapts to the slower rhythm established by the recording itself. Small changes in tone or texture become significant because there are so few dramatic gestures competing with them. This slower pace gives the work an almost architectural quality, as though moving through different rooms connected by subtle shifts in light rather than walls or doors.

Like many of O'Rourke's Steamroom-era projects, To Magnetize Money and Catch a Roving Eye asks listeners to reconsider what electronic music can accomplish when freed from traditional expectations of rhythm, melody and resolution. It is immersive without becoming purely ambient, abstract without feeling random, and carefully organized despite appearing almost formless on first encounter. The MP3 format may simplify the presentation, but it leaves the essential experience untouched. These recordings continue to reveal new textures, hidden relationships and unexpected moments of beauty each time they return to the speakers, making this one of the most rewarding long-form works in O'Rourke's extensive catalog.

Jim O'Rourke - 2020 - MMXX-07: In All Due Deference

 

Matière Mémoire ‎– MMXX-07 

The transparent sleeve and crystal-clear vinyl make In All Due Deference look less like a conventional record than a preserved object. With no printed jacket enclosing it, the disc remains completely exposed, allowing the etched surface, empty grooves and surrounding room to become part of its appearance. One side holds Jim O’Rourke’s twenty-minute composition, while the reverse carries a laser-engraved image instead of playable audio. The object is split between sound and drawing, each occupying its own face but sharing the same clear material. Held against light, the record seems to change according to whatever stands behind it.

That presentation belongs to Matière Mémoire’s MMXX series, where invited artists contributed a twenty-minute piece and accompanying artwork. The strict duration is important. O’Rourke’s longer electronic works often stretch across an hour or several discs, allowing environments to expand until their beginnings are difficult to remember. Here, the imposed boundary produces a more concentrated form. In All Due Deference still develops slowly, but every minute carries greater structural pressure because the piece must establish, transform and disappear within the limits of a single vinyl side.

The opening is quiet enough to make the surrounding room feel unusually loud. Thin electronic tones emerge without announcing a central theme, accompanied by distant rustling, low vibration and small points of texture that seem suspended rather than placed. The space is initially wide, but not peaceful. Something slightly unstable runs beneath the apparent calm, as though the recording is holding a larger mass in reserve.

O’Rourke avoids the easy drama of building from silence toward one enormous climax. Instead, the composition advances through changes in proximity. Sounds that appeared remote gradually move forward, while elements near the surface recede or dissolve. A tone may sharpen almost imperceptibly until it begins to feel physical. A soft mechanical pulse can enter unnoticed, remain for several minutes and then vanish before its presence has been fully understood. The music develops through altered relationships rather than obvious events.

This makes the piece particularly effective through headphones. Fine details occupy different distances around the listener, producing an interior landscape that cannot be reduced to a simple drone. High frequencies hover at the edge of perception, low tones provide a shifting foundation, and irregular textures interrupt the possibility of complete stillness. There is always enough movement to prevent the sound from becoming decorative, but never so much that attention is forced toward one dominant feature.

The title introduces a peculiar tone of formal politeness. “In all due deference” sounds like language used before disagreement, criticism or refusal, a courteous phrase that often conceals tension. The music behaves similarly. Its opening gestures are restrained and almost respectful, but the deeper it moves, the more that restraint appears provisional. Pressure accumulates beneath the smooth surfaces. Frequencies become brighter, denser and less accommodating, though the piece never abandons control.

This tension between courtesy and resistance gives the recording its emotional character. Nothing explodes, yet the sound repeatedly suggests that it could. Harshness appears in narrowed bands rather than walls of noise. The composition allows discomfort to emerge gradually, making a small adjustment in pitch or volume feel more consequential than a sudden blast would. O’Rourke’s patience turns restraint into suspense.

The clear vinyl reinforces that approach. Transparency usually suggests openness, but this object reveals very little. The listener can see through the disc while remaining unable to visually read the sound cut into its grooves. The engraving on the reverse can be examined, yet it cannot be played. Everything appears accessible while preserving a basic separation between surfaces, functions and meanings.

The single-sided format also changes the ending. There is no second composition waiting after the needle reaches the runout. Once the twenty minutes finish, the listener turns the record over and encounters only the silent engraving. That unplayable side feels like an extension of the piece: sound replaced by a fixed mark, duration replaced by an image. The record does not offer repetition through another track but asks the same material object to be considered differently.

In All Due Deference is small in scale only when measured against O’Rourke’s enormous catalog. Within its restricted frame, it contains the same control of depth, pacing and unstable perception found across his larger electronic works. The difference is compression. Instead of inviting an afternoon-long immersion, it creates a focused encounter with sound that becomes more crowded, tense and physical without losing its precision.

The release ultimately succeeds because the composition and object follow the same logic. Both seem minimal at first. Both reveal their complexity through changing angles of attention. The exposed sleeve, engraved reverse and slowly developing audio resist the usual division between packaging and content. In All Due Deference remains a record, an artwork and a measured interval of listening, each element visible through the others without becoming completely transparent.