Earlier this year, my Mortality Tables collaborative project released Lunar Forms by Switzerland-based sound artist Rupert Lally*. That album found Lally at what I would argue was his most inventive, using a specific and quirky Eurorack module to trigger randomised rhythms on a daily basis, which he then used as the foundation for the pieces on the album.
The album also found Lally in deeply ambient territory. It’s an area of his work that I’ve always enjoyed, and for Tiny Universes, his latest album, we (pleasingly) find him going even further in that direction.
His choice of title is instructive, if somewhat consciously oxymoronic. These 11 pieces are like studying pinhead-sized universes through a microscope, revealing an incomprehensible vastness that would not be implied by their ostensibly small stature. Musically, there’s a whiff of jazzy Kosmische, a smattering of Vangelis-esque Bladerunner-y widescreen vastness and a determined melodic momentum that’s often missing from a lot of ambient music. Lally is not afraid of introducing unsettling, discordant textures, instilling a feeling of discomfort and uncertainty as much as they seem to evoke the idea of wide-eyed, slack-jawed wonder, surprise and incomprehension.
Lally has always been a masterful electronic composer and sound designer, capable of using an adaptable array of tools and techniques within his work. The sleight-of-hand he deploys here is the art of the slow build. His melodies begin as quiet, ruminative gestures, which coalesce and harden as they progress, often without you noticing. These magnificent, delicate, unexpected, low-key crescendos are critical ingredients of pieces like ‘Cosmic Countdown’, where that aforementioned sense of motion is most acutely felt. Elsewhere, Lally’s approach is to allow pieces to form stately, stirring gaseous structures out of oscillating, restless layers of white noise, lending a creator’s guiding hand while also allowing the tracks to evolve and develop by themselves.
Unlike Lunar Forms, there are no rhythms on Tiny Universes. None. Not even the slightest trace, inference or suggestion. Perhaps they haven’t formed yet in these universes that have caught Lally’s attention. It leaves his melodic and atmospheric prowess utterly naked and untethered; a brave move, for sure, but one that he is effortlessly capable of owning. The result is an album representing yet another high watermark in his expansive back catalogue. And yes, I know I’m biased.
Passages shines a light on Switzerland-based Rupert Lally’s enduring, but mostly unreleased, work as a sound designer and composer for theatre.
Specifically, the three long pieces here – ‘Cenote’, ‘Time Projection Chamber’ and ‘I Lost My Body To The Waves’ – were conceived for a dance group performance audition. They find Lally in deeply contemplative mode, the tones and shapes bearing most resemblance to some of the quieter moments in his series of hypothetical soundtracks to novels. I am loathe to call these pieces ambient; they are, but they are also highly melodic, giving each piece a simultaneous sense of both stillness and motion.
Motion is delivered on ‘Cenote’ by a percussive sequence that drives the piece relentlessly forward, while never totally dominating the piece and overwhelming its textural fabric. With ‘I Lost My Body To The Waves’, motion is achieved by continual, rapid evolutions and the constant addition of new layers, giving the piece a sense of euphoric ascendancy. And yet, heard another way, the piece is languid and reassuring. For some reason, even though ‘I Lost My Body To The Waves’ has no obvious beat, I’m reminded of Martin Hannett’s instruction to Joy Division drummer Stephen Morris: “Play faster but slower.”
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I was listening to ‘Time Projection Chamber’ while travelling on the Tube from Liverpool Street to Euston Square, and then along the road to Euston Station. I’m not proud of this, but I stopped in at the W.H.Smith and bought a packet of salt ‘n’ vinegar McCoys that I didn’t really need. I hate wearing earphones while I eat crisps. It’s way too loud. So I boarded my train home, removed my earphones, paused ‘Time Protection Chamber’ and crunched my way through the crisps.
Why am I bothering to tell you this? Well, because the focal point of ‘Time Protection Chamber’ is a slowly-descending, exceptionally poignant and haunting synth melody that has the cyclical qualities of chiming, sonorous bells. Though there are many, many interventions and other sounds that arrive along the way, that melody is unswervingly, reassuring present. So much so that when I paused the music and devoured the crisps I didn’t really need, that melody lingered in my ears the entire time. It is a high watermark of beauty, and one of Lally’s most powerfully understated, resonant sequences in a catalogue overflowing with such moments.
As I said at the top, to date we’ve not really heard much of the music Lally has been steadfastly composing for these types of performances, for years. One can only hope that Passages is just that – a pathway to him releasing many more of these pieces.
Passages by Rupert Lally is released March 28 2025
Slow Clinic is a project of mastering engineer James Edward Armstrong. On the three pieces presented here, it’s self-evident that Armstrong has an exceptional ear for detail and nuance. ‘Accept’, ‘Hold’ and ‘Wander’ are all constructed from field recordings made in Farnham, Surrey using an old dictaphone, upon which Armstrong layers gentle, undulating guitar drones. These drones were built from a chain of effects pedals but were otherwise fully unprocessed after they’d been recorded. At times resonant, at others contemplative, there is an appreciable openness to these pieces, and, perhaps, a vulnerability: they are imperfect, in the sense that the base layer dictaphone recordings are bathed in a hissy white noise where you can almost hear the tape mechanism. Moments of clarity find their way through, but that lo-fi bed of static is a constant. And, in that sense, this is Armstrong at his most accepting. For someone so well-versed in addressing deficiencies and errors in other artists’ material, with this EP he doesn’t seek to address those that present themselves in his own work. One can only imagine that process was strangely freeing and cathartic for an artist usually drawn to the most macroscopic of details. Released 27 March 2024.
MORAY NEWLANDS – BUZZ BUZZ (Wormhole World)
The latest album from Dundee’s Moray Newlands acts as a tribute to The Wasp Factory, Iain Banks’ debut novel. Forty years on from the publication of The Wasp Factory, it remains a book that is fraught with controversy and whose unswerving violence and vivid, twisted narrative launched Banks as his generation’s Anthony Burgess. When I first read the book, sometime in the early 1990s, the violence wasn’t what gripped me; instead it was a sort of compassion for Frank, the 16-year-old protagonist. Not, I stress, because I felt some sort of nihilistic familiarity with his character, but because of how deeply troubled and disturbed he was. I don’t think I had read a book, up to that point, where I felt as much sorrow for the main character as I did disgust. It proved to be good practice for when I read American Psycho.
Newlands’ album is, then, appropriately balanced – empathetic in places but just as unflinchingly brutal as Banks’ narrative. The two opening pieces, ‘The Sacrifice Poles’ and ‘Snake Park’ are mournful, symphonic and curiously moving. So moving in fact that you don’t notice the creeping undertow of sibilant buzzing sounds and dark shadows, all of which are fully realised on ‘The Bunker’, where the sound of birds and softly squalling sounds act as metaphors for Frank’s torturous ways. Buzz Buzz is like the Bibliotapes cassette that somehow never got released, moving episodically through the book’s pivotal scenes and figures. Here we meet Saul, a dog that is purported to have inflicted a grievous injury on young Frank (‘Old Saul’s Skull’). We encounter his brother, Eric, forever changed by his grim experiences as a medical volunteer, one of the book’s most harrowing moments (‘What Happened To Eric’). In a moment of grim, fairground whimsy, we alight upon Frank’s cousin, ‘Esmerelda’, killed after he attached her to a large kite which takes her far out to sea. The motive? Because he’d killed too many boys and needed to create a semblance of evenhandedness.
Elsewhere, we hear the sonic embodiment of Frank’s wasp-destroying mechanism on the title track, a stew of clocks, wound-up cogs, struck matches, dubby pulses and angry – nay fearful – buzzing. Even now, when confronted with the idea of Frank’s Heath Robinson torture device, I find myself instead thinking about an episode of Bagpuss where his mice companions use a similarly ramshackle machine to make digestive biscuits. I think it is a device my teenage brain used to prevent me from being too impacted by Frank’s callous traits. Finally, we arrive at the album’s closing moment, ‘What Happened To Me’, the sonic portrayal of a pivotal confrontation between Frank and his father, wherein we learn a lot about Frank – or maybe, just maybe, nothing at all. Newlands depicts this in a searching, inquisitive, but ultimately unresolved electro-symphonic tearjerker, a droning, undulating voice sound reminding us of Frank’s hymenopteran prey.
This album is not for the faint-hearted. There are moments here that are exceptionally terrifying, much like The Wasp Factory itself. My overriding impression, however, like my first reading of the book, is one of compassion toward poor Frank, in no small part thanks to Newlands’ clever sound design and masterful use of emotional texture. A powerful work of arresting, complex detail. Digital edition released 24 May 2024.CD edition released 28 June 2024.
WHETTMAN CHELMETS – A NEW PLACE (Quiet Details)
A New Place began life as a song by Whettman Chelmets’ young daughter. You can hear that song in the first two minutes of ‘Prelude To A New Place’, the first of the three tracks which constitute this release. That voice, imperfect, untrained and innocent, lends these pieces a sense of nostalgic optimism, which I can only liken to the feelings that wash over me whenever I look at old photographs of my children. There is a thick blanket of gauzy texture draped over these three pieces through which fragmentary details and ideas appear – a guitar, resonant brass, strings, a half-melody, children’s voices, discordant buzzing, the click of a computer mouse. At different points, these interventions can appear almost impenetrable, often threateningly dissonant, but those moments, like all the segments here, evolve away rapidly. In the final judgment, A New Place is a wonderfully evocative album full of ceaseless motion, and one of the most beatific albums I’ve had the pleasure of listening to. A resounding, emotional achievement for Chelmets, and another fine release from the consistently-brilliant Quiet Details imprint. Released 29 May 2024.
ASHER LEVITAS – Above The Pale Green (Waxing Crescent)
This four-track EP from Asher Levitas is bordered by two tracks that occupy similar stylistic ground. Opener ‘Fence – Stream – River’ begins with the the sound of gently flowing water and a metal fence being stroked by a stick, out of which rises a soft and delicate tapestry of ambient pads that sit on the frontiers between wistful, nostalgic and hopeful. A brief swirl of gurgling analogue synth evokes the notion of a meandering stream. A similar combination of field recordings and elegiac textures occurs on the closing track, which gives this EP its name. Except that where the first piece offers sense of optimism, ‘Above The Pale Green’ feels restless and uncertain.
If you only listened to those two tracks, you’d wind up with a completely unrepresentative impression of this EP. ‘Nowhere To Be’ is a woozy, slowly-evolving minimal synth pop cut overlaid with a haunting, wordless vocal and simple, pinprick melodies. It’s a lot like finding an early 1980s electronic demo tape in the loft of the house you’ve moved into, suitably draped in years of nostalgic fuzziness. If that wasn’t surprising enough, ‘You Don’t Have To’ is a further departure in the form of a plaintive, open and tender piano ballad. The keyboard sounds wonky and slightly imperfect and is augmented by subtle interventions off in the background. A grubby, dissonant melody, soaring textures and fragile rhythm in the middle eight usher in a more nuanced and layered conclusion. Having the bravery to fit three highly distinct and, on paper, incompatible styles together is a rare moment of daring, but Levitas executes it impeccably. Released 14 June 2024.
LOULA YORKE – Speak, Thou Vast And Venerable Head (Quiet Details)
The second Quiet Details review in this round-up comes from Oram Award winner Loula Yorke, and arrives hot on the heels of her recent masterpiece Volta. Heard in the context of that album, which relied less on the rave-inspired modular improvisations of her earlier work in favour of conscious composition, Speak, Thou Vast And Venerable Head feels unhurried and unburdened by expectation. It’s as if Volta reset those expectations and allows a sense of levity and freedom to enter Yorke’s electronic structures. The central piece here is the 13-minute ‘Monolithic Undertow’, which shares its title with Harry Sword’s landmark book about drones. Again, Yorke upsets expectation with this piece. Rather than being a dense block of intensely wavering drones, ‘Monolithic Undertow’ extends out on a intricate web of dubby, restless bass arpeggios, over which Yorke layers gently modulating clouds of intangible electronic texture. These are pieces filled with vast, open landscapes of sound and a sense of constant, fluid motion. Released 19 June 2024.
The latest release from the Dustopian Frequencies imprint is themed around the idea of space. Specifically, the ten artists invited to contribute were asked to identify with a space – whether real or imaginary – and bring it to life with a sound response. The result is a compilation that covers considerable ground, each track as different to the next and each one representing the artist’s complete freedom to express the characteristics of their spatial inspiration.
Max Schreiber’s ‘Fox do Douro’ is a key piece. A sparse, developing track, ‘Fox do Douro’ is built from crashing waves of metallic sound, harsh breathing noises and what initially feels like minimal percussion that eventually becomes a recurring half-melody. I don’t know whether it’s the snatches of overheard conversation twisting around a thick bassline or an impenetrable nest of drones, but something in Schreiber’s piece manages to sound both empty and full simultaneously. It ultimately reveals an almost ghostly dimension, as if evoking a haunted space.
Another highlight is Spongeboy’s ‘Dark Vapours (Fogwalking 2)’, wherein a creeping, expanding bass note and an overwhelmingly unsettling atmospheric quality creates a vaguely ‘Stranger Things’ vibe. Sweeping tones and a quickening pace heightens the tension as the track becomes louder and more forthright, while discordancy – delivered through competing drones and sibilant whispers – arrives around the halfway mark, leading this key track further into dark, sinister corners. A crisp, mechanical rhythm briefly appears toward the end, suggesting this could have developed into a far longer piece, with plenty more to explore.
Soxsa Lab’s ‘Sublimity’ contains chiming tones that could be a stringed instrument subjected to deep distortion, creating a series of textures that are both calming and contemplative but also decisively unpredictable and fractured. There is an inner rhythm here that exist solely in the form of the clipped, echoing edges of a central loop, assuredly never faltering even as other sounds blur into a fog of dissonance.
Elsewhere, Darinau offers rippling Morricone-esque guitar fragments set to white-noise-fringed textural loops and minimalist xylophone motifs on ‘Huset I Skogen’. Although undoubtedly subjected to electronic processing, stylistically augmenting this with other pieces on the album, this squarely leans into a more openly modern classical atmosphere. Another tangentially electronic piece comes in the form of Emanuele Ippopotami’s ‘One Step And I Fall’. The key focus here is a plucked guitar melody, set to a loped drone and odd non-percussion percussive interjections. This piece is characterised by vast open spaces, where every space is completely occupied. Distorted, heavy almost, death metal riffs expose themselves toward the end of the track, completely disrupting time (and space).
We are never really told what the inspirational spaces actually are for each of these tracks, and I can well imagine that was deliberate. It leaves us speculating, forming our own images from the sounds we hear. There is one exception, in the form of Laura Mars’ ‘Dreaming In Cryo Chambers’. While that title instils the idea of some sort of futuristic lab, the sounds here feel like the were recorded outside a train station. The blurry presentation and processing employed by Mars approximates what it feels like to arrive at Euston to catch a train home after a particularly heavy night out, where the whole world seems to be spinning uncontrollably. By the end, any discernible sounds have been stretched out into long strands of fluctuating drones, offset by swirls of crisp white noise, representing a bold and visceral spatial exploration.
Spaces was released May 25 2024 by Dustopian Frequencies.
A collection of 13 ambient moments, Bowing’s North Standing eschews the casually drifting pads and gauzy textures of most music in the genre. Often constructed with expressive cycles of pretty melodies in the foreground, pieces like ‘Sway Of The Rushes’ and ‘Tomorrow Will Bring’ are languid, enveloping and moving. A jazzy momentum and looseness infiltrates the latter, giving the piece a questing, enquiring mystique. Released 17 July 2023.
CLAIRE M SINGER – SAOR (Touch)
Influenced by trekking through the Cairngorm region of northern Scotland and an 1872 pipe organ installed in a church in Forgue, Aberdeenshire, Saor finds Claire M Singer reflecting on the topography of her homeland, as well as ruminating on existence itself. Many of Singer’s ancestors are buried at the church in Forgue, and the vast Cairngorms expanse would be largely unaltered from when they were alive. That gives these pieces the notion of things staying the same, but at the same time always changing. This is expressed in beautiful, thought-provoking pieces like ‘Cairn Toul’, through long, unmoving held notes on the organ over which more fluid moments are laid. The album’s 25-minute title track is nothing short of mesmerising, its organ drones rising gracefully like one of the mountains and plateauing with hopeful, joyous interventions. Singer is currently raising funds to help the restoration of the Henry Willis organ in the Union Chapel In Islington, which is featured on Saor – to donate, go here. Thanks to Mike and Zoe. Released November 3 2023.
ASTRÏD – ALWAYS DIGGING THE SAME HOLE (False Walls)
French quartet Astrïd is comprised of Vanina Andréani (violin, piano), Yvan Ros (drums, percussion, harmonium, metallophone), Cyril Secq (guitars, piano, synth, harmonium, percussion, metallophone) and Guillaume Wickel (clarinet, percussion). Their new album for the False Walls imprint is stunningly beautiful, a perfect accompaniment for frozen days. Opening piece ‘Talking People’ is plaintive and contemplative, opening with Wickel’s expressive yet subtle clarinet and a particularly introspective piano motif from Andréani. As the piece builds, with unobtrusive percussion, violin and tender guitar, ‘Talking People’ takes on a gently towering dimension, full of uncertain emotion. Subtly majestic, the five pieces on Always Digging The Same Hole act as an emotional salve, like wrapping yourself in the comfort of your favourite blanket. Mesmerising and beguiling. Released November 10 2023.
TAPE LOOP ORCHESTRA – ONDE SINUSOÏDALE ET BANDE MAGNÉTIQUE (Quiet Details)
Tape Loop Orchestra is an alias of Andrew Hargreaves (lately of The Mistys). For his contribution to the always beatific Quiet Details label, his sound palette was restrained to an oscillator, a tape machine and minimal effects. That set-up gives the three long pieces here a stillness and fragility. Central overlapping tones build and coalesce slowly, fringed by subtle additions and gentle interventions, creating an effect not dissimilar to Claire M Singer’s organ preparations on Saor (above). The entire Quiet Details series has a delicate sparseness, but Hargreaves’ Onde Sinusoïdale Et Bande Magnétique is probably the most ephemeral release yet. Released November 15 2023.
AMON RA COLLECTIVE – AT THE CENTRE OF EVERYTHING (Lamplight Social Records)
Amon Ra Collective are an ensemble comprising over 20 members, all of whom are jazz students at Leeds Conservatoire. Their debut album is ostensibly a astro-spiritual collection, but is not restrained by any particular genre boundary. The centre of the album is occupied by a wonderfully sprawl of experimentation, culminating in the aptly-named ‘Explorations’, where bleeping synths, treacly bass, atonal reverberating horns and intense percussion suggest a restless, inquisitive spirit. Concluding track ‘Astro Funk’ starts out in a joyous, danceable frame of mind before oscillating rapidly into territory somewhere between 1970s German rock and sound art. Released November 24 2023.
I first came across Pagan Red at a Titrate label night at IKLECTIK in 2022, and the material played that night was signalled as being extracted from this album. My overriding impression of that set was one of physical bass intensity, overlaid with dense drones and other interventions of unknowable provenance that whirr and fizz unpredictably. On record, the 25-minute ‘A Waning Mind’s Eye’, and the shorter tracks ‘Purus Terrae’ and ‘Sands’ are much more subtle, coiling themselves around you with a combination of airy levity and brooding complexity. Materia exists in darkness, light, and everywhere in between. Released March 31 2023. With thanks to Henrique.
JAY WIRES – GHOST (Yes Trigger Music)
The latest single from New York electronic music producer Jay Wires continues the emotional themes of his earlier releases in 2022 and 2023. A haunting and epic synth pop journey, ‘Ghost’ details a sense of abandonment and disappointment. Beginning with sparse, fragile framing, by the end the track has soared to progressively new heights, even as Jay’s vocals become more intensely and savagely introspective. Jay calls this music “electro-pop therapy”, and his ongoing open, frank discourse with his listeners about his relationship struggles is universally relatable to us and, I hope, cathartic for him. Released October 20 2023.
VARIOUS ARTISTS – BEFORE BRILLO BOX OR BANANA: MUSIC WITHIN THE ALBUM COVER ART OF ANDY WARHOL (Él Records / Cherry Red Records)
Writes David Bourdon in his book Warhol, quoted in the copious liner notes of this four disc set: “Art directors showered Warhol with assignments because he worked fast, met deadlines, and displayed a properly submissive attitude when they demanded revisions.”
This compilation surveys the music that lies within sleeves designed by Andy Warhol after he moved to New York City in 1949. This was the era of Warhol’s commercial art, exemplified by drawings of shoes for Glamour magazine and advertisements for the I. Miller shoe store that appeared in the New York Times. His sleeve art for LPs of music by Gershwin, Tchaikovsky, Thelonius Monk, Count Basie and others, released by labels like Columbia and Blue Note, is less well known, but they highlight early ideas of reproduction and collective creation – via assistants and his mother’s calligraphy – that would go on to become staples of his later work. The four discs here compile a significant number of pieces of classical and jazz music featured on those LPs, while a fourth disc collates pieces by Cage, Feldman, Cecil Taylor, Albert and others in an effort to contextualise the musical currents that surrounded Warhol in 1950s Manhattan. Extensive sleeve notes, quotes and photos of Warhol’s sleeve designs round out an essential and original boxset from Él Records. Released November 24 2023. With thanks to Matt.
XQUI – MELTING ICE WITH ICE (Wormhole World)
The latest album from anonymous, Vince Clarke-tipped sound artist Xqui is easily one of his most atmospheric to date. The album’s centrepiece is the ten minute ‘Cherry Red Neon Blues’, where Xqui briefly emerges from behind his mask to deliver oblique verse over a set of long-form soundscapes. Here you find intriguing, impenetrable sentiments that feels, to me, like a vague outline of a strange night out, reminding me of Scorsese’s seminal After Hours. Elsewhere, ‘Zero Divided By Zero’ carries a sense of fragile tenderness, with deep, sedentary ambience offset by soaring, euphoric tones. The (almost) title track, ‘Melting Ice’ features squidgy synth tones that seem to echo and reverberate across a barren arctic landscape. Plaintive, and vaguely melancholic, Xqui‘s new collection feels like unanswered radio transmissions from an abandoned polar lab complex. Released December 1 2023.
KHODUMODUMO – WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING THIS SIDE?
An accompanying email with this album from South Africa’s Khodumodumo said, “We hope it unsettles you,” which is a great marketing tactic as far as I’m concerned. And unsettling this certainly is, if you’re generally freaked out by its cloying, discordant, wonky textures and brooding clouds of menacing ambience. ‘Trapped In Deluded And Helpless Loops’ stands out for its cycles of queasily unpredictable repeated samples, while the brief and atmospheric ‘Their Whistles Have Noticed You’ seems to carry a calm latency, presaging some extreme violence. This album is most unsettling with the title track, which uses samples of Appartheid-era news report to highlight South Africa’s racial tensions. Released December 8 2023.
Further. 
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