Why do I write about music? Is it because I love writing? Well…not exactly, although the real answer to this question is a bit more complex, so let me clarify; I don’t not love writing—I really can’t see how I’d be doing what I do if I didn’t receive a great satisfaction from the creative process—but at the same time I think it’s important (and perfectly okay) to acknowledge that the enjoyment of the writing itself is not the main motivator behind what I do.
Unlike some of my favourite, most soul nourishing activities like reading, listening to music or riding my bike, writing isn’t something I do to feel good per se, but rather a part of me that I can’t resist, something that simply needs to happen. Much like any essential bodily function—breathing, sleeping, or using the washroom—it’s not something I think about in terms of enjoyment necessarily, but rather a means to the hugely important end of being able to move through life in equilibrium with myself. And as grand and profound as all of this might sound, at the core of the question is a much more simple answer, the clear line that draws me back to writing about music day after day, the thing at the centre of it all; it’s the music.
Like any creative in their respective field, writing is something I tend to wrestle with sometimes…but music? That’s my most uncomplicated relationship, the thing that I have never and will never feel anything less than absolutely enamoured with. When I hear an album that speaks to me, I just want to share it with the world in the same way I want to show people pictures of my dog, or tell a story about someone who meant a lot to me who is no longer around; “here is this thing that is so special to me, and by showing you this I am communicating a part of myself that is beyond words”. And yet we try to find the words, because how else can we truly communicate the depth of ourselves and the things we care about?
Last week I came across this reddit post captioned “Ambient is my favorite genre…but i have yet to meet other my age who understand it" and it brought me back to my entire first decade of discovering experimental music with nobody to share it with. It might seem like a silly thing, but caring so much about something without anyone to the depths of those feelings with can be such an unfathomably lonely experience. I spent the entirety of my formative teenage years feeling like an alien (for more reasons than just music) who just wanted to feel seen and understood; maybe if the people in my life could hear the music that said the things I didn’t have the words for, they would finally see the real me. Maybe I wouldn’t feel so utterly alone.
Throughout my 20’s, I slowly started to find my people, and while they didn’t all have the same musical tastes as I did, they were at least open enough to listen. Countless stoned nights in college were spent in my bedroom with a trusted friend or two made to listen to my newest musical obsession while I obsessively ranted about everything that made it so special to me—and while there were certainly a few half interested, glazed over expressions, there were also those who completely got it, hearing the same album that saved my life with that familiar look in their eyes that said “I am forever changed”.
Now at 35 years old, I am not only surrounded by countless like minded listeners and deeply enmeshed in the flourishing local Toronto experimental scenes, but I now have a real audience. Between a not insignificant Bandcamp following, and the rapidly growing number of subscribers on here (not to mention those who take the time to reach out directly via social media and email) there are people who now actively take time out of their days to read about the music that I love, and I mean…holy shit! What an indescribable honour that is. It’s everything that a sad and misunderstood 17 year old Ryan—alone in his bedroom listening to Stars of the Lid for the thousandth time with nobody to cry with—ever wanted.
Writing about music isn’t something I do because I love writing, but rather it is the natural extension of an unquenchable need to communicate the most indescribable parts of myself, a necessary tool I sharpen every day so I can find a meaningful way to draw others towards the things that mean most in my life.
“Here is a picture of my dog, here is a story about someone who I wish you could have met, here is an album that saved my life. Here is a piece of me.”
Thanks for being here with me. It means more than I could possibly describe.
Unknown Mobile - Field Work (Pacific Rhythm)
One look at the beautiful album art for this one can give you a pretty good idea what you are in for. Field Work feels like being dropped into a pristine and untouched natural world as a a peaceful observer whose only purpose is to listen. Perfectly balanced between composition and field recording, the musical arrangements here feel informed at every turn by the sounds of nature that create the foundational core of the music; synth drones stretched and carried outwards by a soft current, piano notes weaving through rain drop percussion, sub bass emerging beneath the cries of sea birds as if to create warm thermals for their wings to drift on. Unknown Mobile has created something so delicate and organic with Field Work that it can be easy to forget that this was created by human hands. It feels more like something witnessed, like being caught in the middle of a natural phenomenon by the sheer luck of simply being in the right place at the perfect moment, and experiencing something indescribable.
Juho Toivonen - Kuun Sininen Rinki (Infinite Expanse)
Listening to Juho Toivonen’s music feels downright voyeuristic at times, as if you are peering through the windows into a private world that wasn’t necessarily intended to be shared, baring witness to a moment of personal and creative release that is completely removed from any notion of performativity. Kuun sininen rinki is the sound of an artist laying themselves bare, exposing the most hidden depths of the soul through an act of sonic excision, a level of vulnerability that is downright humbling to behold. Built largely around piano and voice—but with just as much emphasis on room tone, silence, and the degraded warmth of analog recording—these four tracks drift over the unconscious like a fog, unearthing quiet truths and sweet memories as it settles.
Urner - Afterimages (topo2)
I was lucky enough to have been sent the latest release from the ever reliable topo2 a few months before its official release, and to be honest it’s been a tough one not to talk about. Not only do I find myself returning to it constantly, but it’s become a sort a reliable default for me as of late when I can’t decide what else to listen to. Afterimages is an album characterized in my mind by its malleability, an ability to capably fill the space of any room or environment it plays in, to fit just about any situation or mood it accompanies. When I listen closely, I am swept away by the sheer sonic depth and detail in these tracks, triggering an ASMR level of brain stimulation that sends shivers down my spine. When I throw it on on in the background, it washes over me in such a subtle and unassuming way, making the air around me easier to breathe, the thoughts in my head easier to comprehend.
The references here are tough to pinpoint; a hint of Visible Cloaks and Oneohtrix Point Never in the candy coloured kaleidoscopics of tracks like Stranding and Anni, sounding like being washed away by a torrent of childrens toys and lego blocks; a glimpse of Lifted in the swirling percussion of tracks like Pulser and Ghost, which patter gently like water droplets on soft clay. One can recognize the influences, but in a way that only ever feels vaguely impressionistic, never emulative. Urner has created something truly unique here, an album that feels both alien and nostalgic, like stepping into a brand new environment for the first time—somewhere you’ve never even dreamed of—yet feeling oddly, perfectly at home.
Gustav Kemps - Lonesome For A Storm (Motion Ward)
The other day as I was browsing through Motion Ward’s catalogue, I found myself wondering if there is a single other ambient adjacent label out there with such a consistent level of quality. Their release schedule might be sporadic, but when the one or two records you put out each year are reliably destined for the top of my year end lists, it’s hard to count such an intentional rate of output as a negative. The debut record by Gustav Kemps is one of such records, joining the ranks of Cancer House’s recent debut The Moth (my current album of the year), Hysterical Love Project’s Lashes, Pontiac Streator’s Triz and Ulla’s Limitless Frame as some of the most essential work yet on a label comprised of nothing less than essentials.
When label head Jesse Sappell stated on social media that he’ll often listen to this record on repeat for hours on end, I thought it might be an embellishment, but here I am on my fourth listen in a row on this moody rainy Sunday with no end in sight. Lonesome for a Storm might be the the most unassumingly gentle music I have heard this year (a true blessing for my sometimes exhausted ears), something that settles over my mind with the same subtlety as the humid breeze currently drifting through my screen door; melding with the sounds and smells of the rain outside as I type this, it feels less like an album I am listening to than a quintessential aspect of the space it is resonating through.
For fans of Loren Connors, Jonny Nash and Jemima, this one has my highest recommendation possible.
Paperclip Minimiser - Topology Transform (Blank Mind)
Not even a full month since putting out yet another incredible full length on Peak Oil, John Howes returns with an EP that confirms his Paperclip Minimiser project without a shadow of a doubt to be some of the most consistently mind-blowing and deftly versatile electronic music around at the moment. Where the self titled debut traversed the slippery sonics of IDM and micro-dub, and the sophomore LP took a more immediate and bass forward approach, Topology Transform seems to exist on another plane entirely. Like the glowing biology of complex microorganisms viewed in exquisite detail, these three tracks vibrate and pulse with life; one moment percolating frantically as a fish evading a shadowy predator, the next laying its patient and suspended percussion to float towards the surface in languid bliss. Topology Transform moves in the sort of infinite and unpredictable patterns found in nature—the way a butterfly seems to tumble through the air towards its destination, the grain of a tree spiralling inwards—collecting its sounds like dew drops on a leaf, and then sublimating them into a fine mist.
Özcan Saraç - OS ZA CR AA NC (EVEL)
How does one even begin to talk about such a monolithic album? How about with a funny story: a few weeks ago I got an email notification informing me about a Bandcamp listening party for this album, but since it started near the beginning of my work day, I knew I wouldn’t be able to attend…or so I thought. I worked the whole day, got home, ate a meal, walked my dog, turned on my computer and somehow still managed to catch the tail end of the listening party on this nearly five hour leviathan of abstracted glitch. Moral of the story here is to never underestimate the insane ambition of Özcan Saraç, or EVEL records in general.
While the enormous runtime is obviously impressive in its own right, it’s hardly the thing that makes this album such an accomplishment. And while I can’t pretend to have spent enough time with all of the material here to truly comprehend let alone put to words what makes OS ZA CR AA NC so special (I imagine this one will take a long time to truly unpack), what I can say is that from what I have heard there is hardly a moment on this record that doesn’t leave my jaw on the floor in amazement.
Much like Autechre’s post Exai material (and I swear I really tried not to make an AE comparison here, but alas) this isn’t just a metric fuck ton of electronic music but in fact a metric fuck ton of some of the best electronic music you that will pass through your skull. While it might be overwhelming to all but the most hardened glitch enthusiasts as a full album experience, OS ZA CR AA NC can be thought of as a choose your own adventure, one where all paths lead to gold; fire up any track at random and sit back as your molecules begin to melt. Or better yet, listen to the whole thing front to back—you might just gain super powers in the process.
Pume Orenge - Angel by Milo (ODDA)
Big shout out to my friend pariah.noises for putting me on to this unspeakably gorgeous and utterly beguiling record from Pume Orenge. Saturated in a foggy and mysterious allure, Angel by Milo is an enigmatic work that somehow both reveals and obscures itself with each subsequent listen, each layer peeled back to present a glimpse a small glimpse at something that feels destined to remain forever unknowable. From the wistful piano of opener Bitts, its notes echoing nightwards with the aching nostalgia of a sweet memory, to the slow build up to the sudden sharp turn of Milo with its snappy percussion that brings to mind Fridge and early Four Tet, Angel by Milo is a record that is tough to predict or pinpoint, but utterly singular in vision and its ability to evoke such powerful emotions.
Foote/Dickow - High Cube (Geographic North)
While their newest project as Foote/Dickow might be Brian Foote and Paul Dickow’s first release as an official duo, by no means is this their first outing together; with over 30 years of friendship and collaboration under their belts, High Cube presents itself less so as a debut record than a self assured victory lap between two best friends, a celebration and culmination of a decades long relationship, and the nearly telepathic shared musical language that comes from working with someone you know nearly as well as you know yourself. Locked in the elastic grooves of High Cube is the sound of not just a soul deep trust between collaborators, but a mutual admiration resulting in some of the most intuitive dub infused electro jams I’ve heard in quite some time, a sonic homunculus given form and sent stumbling out into the world on its own two feet.
Really digging the Pume Orenge recommendation
And I just now realized why gustav’s name was familiar - he’s also part of Felicity J Lord - one of my fave releases from last year. I actually mailed him a book in January :)