Author: Mischa Mathys

We err on the dark side, with beats bearing teeth and sonic landscapes that’s dark and ominous in their delivery. These are the records forged in the brimstone basin of perdition, delivering punishing blow after blow and negating the obvious without straining the listener’s conscious capacity. These are records made

A dissonant miasmic drone sweeps across Marc Kate’s Deface reducing the sharpened peaks and jagged troughs of his source material to a innocuous wispy ebb. The album hides an uncomfortable eerie dissonance in its sonic wake with the Californian artist yet again examining some socio-political discourse through his music. A

That elusive sweet spot between genres styles and ideas is where you’ll find the most progressive music. In the confluence between various musical dialects and traditions, there exists a moment where platitudes and familiar tropes are superseded for a new divine musical language. Where musical ideologies succumb under weight of

Beguiling piano motifs haunt an otherworldly dimension as strings resonate in solemn reverie against a superficial backdrop of electronic miasma. Disquiet ensues in the empty spaces between intervallic leaps as the player purposively caresses dormant keys in simple gestures redolent of Satie in one of his more contemplative moments. Dust

In an age where everything is available to anybody and the only borders that exists are within the irrational mind, a sense of community is slowly unravelling, and while on a socio-political level this has its benefits, in music this has created something of a void. It’s a void where

An air of nostalgia swathes RX101’s debut record, Like Yesterday, as if like a chance encounter with an old friend, bringing back shared memories of some intangible ghostly past. You inherently know this music, even if you don’t know exactly how. You know it through the hiss of an overdubbed tape, electronics constrained

Lucy and Rrose are significant architects in this new paradigm of electronic music. Individually they distort, manipulate and redefine the borders between the avant garde and the dance floor, with music that neither conforms to – nor humours the status quo. They align principally within the idea of Techno as

Chihei Hatakeyama’s music spills out at you from some impossible reverie, creating a tangible dreamscape in music from some distant souvenir. His memories form in the abstract like a Joan Miró landscape painting, where mountains take on the shape of billowing clouds; water feels like silk; and the leaves rustling

If Adam Curtis is right and we are indeed living within a broken a system where the economy is a malfunctioning machine its creators don’t understand; democracy is a thinly clad excuse for a war machine; and our reality is just an illusion, then the only acceptable soundtrack to our