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A special recording of a special concert by the duo of Air Cushion Finish and Lichens. This all took place at Wokule!, an old GDR holiday camp in Biesenthal, where the artists apparently played in the kitchen! It’s a lush and floaty session that must have been a treat to witness. Released by alt.vinyl on heavy-card-sleeve-housed vinyl, in a limited edition of 250.


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  • av070
  • av070 / Limited 180g vinyl LP on alt.vinyl in hand litho-printed heavy card sleeve, with five exclusive photographic inserts from the Biesenthal session. Edition of 250 copies

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Live in Biesenthal by Air Cushion Finish & Lichens
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8 people love this record. Be the 9th!
8/10 Robin Staff review, 30 March 2017

Loveliness exists and it is this record. Procured from a live session out to the north of Berlin (because things do indeed happen outside of city parameters), these tracks offer up a collaboration between underrated hero Lichens (known, as Robert Lowe, for his modular experiments, vocal drones and the occasional foray into some semblance of dance music) and Air Cushion Finish, players from Berlin who’ve released a kindly handful of abstract musical blueprints. ‘Biesenthal’ is just the sound of people who like ambient music hanging out. I permit you to float.

A mixture of watery guitar strums, nasal vocal expressions and processed ambience best describes this record, which occasionally ups the ante of its ever-flowing sound through sustained harmonies and stray basslines. It’s weird both how absent-minded and precise they sound, as if they can forget anything but bliss exists for ten minutes and then know the exact moment their music should wake up on. The transitions are superb and jolting: the bassline and plucked guitar that rolls into “Licking It” sounds like something out of a rock song, living life anew in this strange territory.

It’s rhapsodic music. It feels nice to listen to but demands its weirdness be put into the forefront, its indecipherable vocal chants, whispers and howls moving between the tones and pulses like thoughts in your head that never quite coalesce. There’s something strangely nice about it all. Don't ask me for any further details, please: I've gone metaphysical.


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