I don’t have much to say in this week’s intro because it’s been a hectic week, and getting all these reviews edited and put together is a tiny miracle. It’s going to be a long year so we might as well make the soundtrack a good one.
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Chuck Roth watergh0st songs (Palilalia)
A knot pulls too tight before unraveling into countless dangling threads as watergh0st songs spark to life. Chuck Roth’s deft, delicate touch drifts through the in-between spaces, pulling the ear closer with effortless clarity. But up close, the details bloom into resonant little worlds—intimate spaces where Roth tells stories until he’s out of breath. His words uncover poetry in the everyday, weaving together matter-of-fact observations and fleeting moments. Switching between electric and acoustic guitar, with minimal—if any—effects, quick plucks and wistful chord progressions emerge from quiet introspection. Roth is always in motion, always searching for the next turn, and in watergh0st songs, we catch a glimpse of the ever-unfolding journey. Highest recommendation.
Aleksandra Słyż Tonarium Live (Superpang)
What does it feel like to be slowly pulled apart from the inside? Methodical. Intense. Tonarium Live begins as a visceral saw, a sonic exorcism driven by heavy drones and tense oscillations. Precision is at the core of this music, with Słyż guiding both side-long pieces through subtle shifts that leave a massive impact. We are cocooned within its expanding harmonic soundworlds—at one moment rising toward the heavens, the next submerged in warm frequency rituals and sensory-obliterating reveries. Tonarium Live is immersive, yet refined, enveloped in an intimate, elegant pull.
Adrián de Alfonso Viator (Maple Death)
A taut string unravels, its loose strands drifting between whimsy and strangeness. Adrián de Alfonso conducts this unraveling with minimalist precision, where a few carefully placed notes speak in countless tongues. His voice hovers over skeletal arrangements and hushed percussion, while layered vocals form a spectral choir, murmuring in subdued ritual. There’s no frenzy here—Viator unfolds with measured restraint, its power drawn from stark simplicity and timeless melodies, woven through waltzing bass lines and whispered guitar. But when Alfonso finally growls, the mask cracks, revealing Viator’s raw, beating heart. The electricity in the air becomes palpable. What a trip.
Ilinx Flipperen (Futura Resistenza)
A feeling of spontaneity and chaos runs through Flipperen, even as it’s punctuated by moments of calm and beauty. The trio of Suzana Lașcu, Robert Kroos, and Reinier van Houdt construct a series of sonic experiments based on ‘the soundbites of pinball machines.’ Electronics splotch and blot into random shapes, oddly melodic but utterly perplexing. Wild voice inflections jettisoned out of the airlock and clattered around in space. Percussion of all stripes anchors many of these pieces, adding counterpoints to pointillist piano arrangements and backdropping feedback layers, guitar sparkle, and every clamoring mess. Flipperen is dynamic and intuitive, each remnant showing only a small portion of a multidimensional wonder. Every playthrough reveals something new; Flipperen is never the same twice.
Olga Anna Markowska ISKRA (Miasmah)
On ISKRA, elegies drift free of their weight, dissolving into the ether. Cello, zither, and electronics form deeply personal treatises, balancing the fragility of memory with the fading glow of possibility. Cyclical melodies burrow into the soil, loosening the tethers that hold us earthbound, while a metallic shimmer beckons forward—a quiet reminder that we are still capable of flight. Markowska’s compositions unfold like a sonic scrapbook, where fleeting moments of joy blur into a gentle melancholy. Tape loops stretch and slow time, wrapping each piece in a warm, nostalgic haze, whispering that even if we can’t keep up, we can still bask in the light. A stunning record.
fields we found “resolve / relate 01” (self-released)
The first in a series of deep-listening pieces, “resolve / relate 01” unfolds as an impassive sonic mass, where subtle shifts ripple into tidal waves. An emotional resonance hums at its core, expanding outward, yet its purpose is to slow us down—to suspend us in aural molasses. Time is not infinite. Slow-moving swells stretch across a vast landscape of unfolding drones and harmonic reveries. Small details—a deepening sub-shimmer, a delicate ethereal phrase—enrich the timbral spectrum, enhancing the stillness of the moment, the life within the expanse.
Ueno Takashi More ARMS (Room 40)
Takashi Ueno (half of the legendary Tenniscoats) returns with More ARMS, following last fall’s ARMS. Trickling guitar sequences carve out modal cities in the creases, where small gestures become the album’s lifeblood. Repeating phrases form the melodic framework, zipping through dreamy corridors with sharp precision. The tonic shapes Ueno builds unfold like a hypnotic kaleidoscope, rich in color and depth. Aqueous shadows emerge from his quick, delicate fretwork, creating shapeshifting patterns that feel both expansive and intimate. Simple expressions are mined for a vast spectrum of emotion—moving fluidly from introspective and melancholic to playful and joyous. Each piece is interconnected, forming a narrative that speaks in subtle, resonant tones. More ARMS is another special guitar record in Ueno’s oeuvre.
Alexandra Grimal, Giovanni Di Domenico Shakkei (Relative Pitch)
There’s a lovely sense of pursuit in the opening moments of Shakkei, as Di Domenico’s lilting piano melodies seem to be chased by Grimal’s dulcet saxophone intonations. Each note ripples outward, illuminating midnight vistas with a delicate yet dynamic energy—soothing and spirited in equal measure. As the soundworld expands, pipe organ and celesta introduce contrasting moods, offering new playgrounds for Grimal to explore. At times, the music is lulling and inquisitive; at others, it turns dissonant and ghostly. Angular piano patterns deconstruct into sharp, unpredictable foundations, building tension and dark spectacle. Across Shakkei, Grimal and Di Domenico display extraordinary chemistry, each player elevating the other with instinctive, fluid interplay.
Julia E. Dyck Introduction to Somnambulism (rohs!)
Light scatters across the liminal swells of Introduction to Somnambulism, marking only the beginning. Julia E. Dyck structures the album like a hypnosis session, guiding listeners with calm, monochromatic instructions that are both soothing and enigmatic. Crystalline synth pads and reverberant echoes form the foundation, while gentle noise washes and fluctuating frequencies provide grounding points, anchoring the music’s search for something beyond the ether. Chords cycle endlessly, lulling the senses, while interjections of metallic hums sharpen focus, drawing us further inward. Finally, we drift through a serene, spatial expanse.
