Fresh from a subdued acoustic noise experiment on Helm's Alter Shock label, Lumisokea creeps into the Opal Tapes fold for a new record; this time the heart isn't bleeding but beating, with rhythms ordering the drone about the place. Transmissions from Revarsavr continues to establish a very versatile connoisseur of the twilit and dubious.
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- Transmissions from Revarsavr by Lumisokea
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The duo of Andrea Taeggi and Koenraad Ecker follow up their excellent ‘Apophenia’ EP for Opal Tapes (and an LP on Alter) with an absolute stonker of an album.
Paying tribute to the Soviet Union's early 20th Century inventors and composers and drawing on electro-acoustic and Musique concrète techniques; they’ve created an album of electronic music that’s truly “industrial” in the sense that the music sounds like it was created by the machines of industry -- as opposed to just some bleak dark shit that tends to get labelled with the industrial tag.
Kicking off with ‘Generation Z’ which uses Vladimir Popov’s ‘noise machines’ as sound sources and comes off like some infectious clanging techno played by Einstürzende Neubauten at a Toyota factory. The killer bassline is the icing on the steel cake.
‘Buk’ is like zoned, paranoid Gamelan played in a cold war bunker. While ’Whirling Dervishes’ beats out complex, dynamic Southern Indian and Korean influenced polyrhythms over a menacing droning backdrop. ‘Hyman Otor’ offers a subdued red herring of an intro before erupting into manic, twitchy, metallic hyper rhythms; like Aphex Twin's computer controlled acoustic instruments gobbled a full bag of robo-whiz.
‘Uroboros’ really displays how the duo have applied technology to the raw materials, the rhythms snaking at every corner with additional effects and processing; what is essentially machine music feels alive and vibrant and could only be achieved with human input.
After being left fairly breathless it’s time to breath again but ‘Engrams’ offers only suffocating smog ridden air. It’s like walking through an abandoned, decaying factory in the future where ghosts of the past still linger, their howls reverberating across metallic surfaces, all the while the stench of impending dread.
The album closes with the ultra creepy and eerie ‘Nanissaanah’ underpinned by a paranoia inducing heartbeat of a pulse and ticking metallic clanks mapping out a huge space -- it’s like hanging out with Mika Vainio in a Finnish ship building factory while getting “the fear” coming up on acid. Thankfully nobody gets decapitated or anything bad like that; so all is chill when things build into a dramatic and somewhat cinematic track where a groove emerges among the expertly executed sound design.
This record never failed to hold my attention for its entire duration, truly breathtaking stuff throughout - highly recommended.
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