Juno Recommends Experimental: February 2022

Review: Burial's first full-length EP since 2012's 'Rival Dealer' hears the South London enigma plunge the depths of his newest dark ambient sound, wrenching the emo essences of rave from their breakbeats to produce a purely ambient affair. Spanning every emotion from depression to triumph, 'Antidawn' opens with a cough, in a seeming nod to the COVID lockdowns of recent years. Meanwhile, disparate sections buzz and weave in and out of one another on 'Shadow Paradise' and 'Strange Neighbourhood', never quite landing on their feet before being whisked away again. One of Burial's most defining world-building works.

Review: Tom Middleton and Mark Pritchard created a landmark of ambient music when they released 76:14 back in the 90s. Their Global Communication project was never just about ambient though, and it also coursed through deep house and more besides. In the spirit of progress, Middleton has returned to thinking about the project from a contemporary perspective, stepping forth as GCOM with the epic scope of E2 XO. From stirring orchestral suites to high octane DSP, it's an expansive listening experience that shows Middleton pushing himself into new terrain in the studio. Whether you tie it back to the prior material or not, it's a towering piece of work from an elder statesman of UK electronica.

Review: Delia Derbyshire has rightly been getting the props she deserves in recent times, albeit many years after they were due. Best known for the pioneering work she did with the BBC Radiophonic Workshop, she is in no uncertain terms one of the most innovative electronic musicians of the last century. Her album The Dream was written in the 19060s and is the result of being asked by British playwright Barry Bermange to create music for four of his radio plays. Fantome Phonographique reissue it now in all its rather desolate and eerie glory with subtle drones, spoken words and mystic motifs making it an intriguing listen.

Review: Gang of Duck's co-founder Sabla serves up a debut album on new label Pensaments Sonics, which has been conceived out of the necessity "to release albums from a sonic perspective." This one is a brilliantly frayed-edge, soft focus work of ambient electronics, swirling pads and found sounds that add rich detail to the often sparse tracks. Lots of shadows, dream states and hallucinations feature throughout as tracks get dark and sub aquatic like 'Ground Loop' and more post-human and desolate on 'Constellation Of Data.' Introspective yet propulsive, this is a hugely absorbing listen.

Review: Lion's Drums full length exists as en exploration in multiple dimensions. First by challenging the notion of the album format by presenting a body of work that lies snuggly between remixes, edits and original works and secondly as a means to delve into the transcendent potential of the drum. The album sets the tone by putting these two concepts fully on display with its hypnotic chant, swaying one into ease over the first two songs. In orderly cue folding and unfolding, meditatively through, melodies as muddied pastelle whispers cast over the measured language of the drum. Breaking away from the musing themes of the opening songs we find an ecstatic ritual in "Tanz der Korperlinge" and "Journey to Middle Earth", two distinct varieties but both of the same perennial species. Inky ether seeps back in through the second half of the album with a peak of frenzied tumbling toms and incongruous textures hovering above in the Manos Tsangaris' collaboration "Crying Tafel" and his re-imagining of Tullio De Piscopo's unhinged drum excursion "Fastness". The closing exemplifies the edit/remix/original ethos proposed for this work with Lions Drums drawing from tapes and original material of electronic pioneers Suzanne Ciani and Roberto Musci. Drawing from unreleased music and song sketches by the original artists as well as field recordings from travels & studio sessions made by Roberto Musci & Manos Tsangaris in the 80's and early 90's he constructs a side winding journey through playful textures and ethereal moods.

Review: Mary Lattimore's last album Silver Ladders is still a firm favourite here at Juno HQ, two years on from its release. To keep us fans sated the Los Angeles-based harpist is now back with a counterpart release, Collected Pieces: 2015-2020, which brings together some of her best bits from that five year period. It is a limited edition record that also includes some new and unreleased bits, singles that have only been on Bandcamp before now and some other obscurities from 2017's sister LP, Collected Pieces. It is a heavenly selection with contact mics and pedals the only accompaniment to Lattinmore's Lyon and Healy Concert Grand Harp.

Review: RECOMMENDED
If you've ever heard Tom Waites' 1999 attempt at freaking the shit out of anyone in earshot - 'What's He Building in There?', the closest a song has ever come to parodying a David Lynch movie scene - then the opener here, 'Guram', might sound familiar. In fact, there are enough nuanced noises floating about Malar to ensure the whole album feels like it's suggesting things to you.

Ultimately, Uwalmassa has delivered what you might call a percussive, atmospheric masterpiece. Even at the most ambient-drone end, for example 'Caruk', the sounds involved have enough patterned purpose to ensure you're never going to wander too far into the abyss. Meanwhile, a good chunk of what's here - 'Putung', 'Rantas', 'Belit', to name but three - are resolutely drum tracks, dipping toes into subtle effects, waves and delays to help engineer distinct moods.

Review: A supremely intriguing slice of musique concrete from new avant-gardist Eiko Ishibashi, dedicated to the much-loved Law And Order character Jack McCoy. Across only two tracks in three parts, Ishibashi lends a close, microtonal ear to only the most dubious of ambient sounds and voice, leading to an airy, stretched-out, and acousmatic feel nailed masterfully by Ishibashi and her circle of friends and collaborators. Watch out for the sudden jazz plot twist 'Ask Me How I Sleep At Night'; we're sure the fictional McCoy would be proud at being quoted so affectionately!