Gąsiorek Never Looks Back
Polish-born Szymon Gąsiorek has done it again – created a cornucopia of an album that both overwhelms and delights.
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Polish-born Szymon Gąsiorek has done it again – created a cornucopia of an album that both overwhelms and delights.
Bjarke Mogensen makes the Cisterns breathe and thunder in a meditative underground sound space.
Natural sounds, imitations of nature, harmonies, and entire sequences are simply building blocks in her personal experimental lab.
Tungemål dares to experiment without drowning itself out.
It certainly doesn’t break any ambient conventions – but it’s a pleasure to be swept away nonetheless.
»A rare and unique symbiosis arises between voice and double bass – a connection so special that one rarely hears anything quite like it.«
It’s impressive how effectively it all works, even as the expression remains so relentless and challenging.
It’s a wonderfully weird effect that, just as weirdly, the score seems to deliver with a straight face – just one more satisfying surprise among many others on this excellent record.
»The shockwave transforms into mischievous, squelchy synth footsteps as desperation and hallucinations grow.«
»A devouring sound. Just like the entire exhibition, it elegantly addresses both the eyes and techno-loving ears.«
His playing is both minimalist and grandiose, but it’s the breaks in the composition that truly captivate me.
Over time, the album grows into a brilliant piece of contemporary art, only suffering from slightly too perfect production and somewhat grandiose gestures.
If Malkovich suddenly announced that he now wanted to sing opera, we would also buy a ticket. But how would this story of misogyny sound with the baroque music of 2024?
»Marches Rewound and Rewritten« is a seminal and important album which shines darkly in these difficult times and reminds us that everything is political – especially music.
Emma O’Halloran transforms Mark O’Halloran’s words into intimate, musical narratives, where theatre and vocal artistry merge.
This is not easy listening – we are still in free jazz territory – but there is a strangely compelling balance between chaos and restraint.
Bro and Takada listen to each other with rare intimacy, and together they have created something truly unique.
»Soft Light' has developed over many years, it sounds remarkably cohesive – like one long breath.«
»Den Stærkes Ret« is one of the most intense musical experiences I have had in years.
At Alice, Gintė Preisaitė and Drew McDowall showed how electronic music can be both unsettling and enveloping.
»The dancers in 'We Continue…' move between seaweed, drones and subtle beats, exploring how humanity goes on – even when nature revolts.«
Imagine if the texts had been carried by actual verses, hooks, and choruses – elements that might have turned them into true earworms.
On their second release »Kaikō«, Treen show how free improvisation can balance between independence and shared direction – carried by trust, gravity, and an organic flow.
»George Benjamin’s modern classic unfolds on the Old Stage as both a brutal love story and a musical paradox, where violent noise meets transparent silence.«
The music is brutal, relentless. But could it have been more: more in colour, beyond the duel?