The title of Sweet Fellas’ song “I’m More Afraid to Lose My Job Than I Am of Dying” is a poignantly bleak summation of life for many living under late capitalism. When the piece begins its bleak drones have a textural and tonal sweep, drift and flow that expresses what sounds like social bonds and one’s own psychology eroding and dissolving. In that haze of sounds there is a slowly evolving melodic figure, perhaps a piano processing minimal chords and faintly resonate like the flickering embers of hope in a devastated landscape. It has an emotional resonance with Tarkovsky’s 1979 existential and beautifully bleak masterpiece Stalker and Eduard Artemiev’s film score as a cutting through of values and aspirations we’re often told matter when deep down we know that life should be more than fulfilling the third rate technocratic goals of an oligarchy whose demands are baked into the social fabric. Listen to “I’m More Afraid to Lose My Job Than I Am of Dying” on Spotify and follow Sweet Fellas on Instagram.
Je est un Autre is a solo project from Dylan Desmond who is perhaps most well known as half of cosmic doom band Bell Witch. Borrowing the name, which means “I is another,” from poet Arthur Rimbaud’s declaration on the nature of being, Desmond has crafted a set of six songs for the project’s debut album Flatworm Mysticism (released March 1, 2024 ) that embody an evocative style of soundscaping and composition reminiscent of the soundtracks to the existential science fiction and adventure noir films of the 70s and 80s like Aguirre, the Wrath of God, Stalker, Sorcerer and Blade Runner and more contemporary manifestations of similar creative impulses like the films of Robert Eggers, Alex Garland and Rose Glass. Desmond had some opportunity to exercise these creative skills when Bell Witch launched its Patreon in 2021 and he beagan writing original pieces to be paired with sections from influential films. But he set aside the bass he usually plays in Bell Witch and took on synths as the vehicle of expression. The album has titles that suggests ideas from obscure science and esoteric knowledge with sounds that perfectly embody those resonances.
Listen to our interview with Dylan Desmond on Bandcamp and follow Je est un Autre and Desmond’s other projects at the links below.
The black and white noir aesthetic of El Morabba3’s video for “El Wuhoosh” with its use of animation techniques and visuals give it the aspect of an experimental science fiction movie. The song is about struggling with the forces of hostility, strife and oppression that exist within and between nations. And the haunting and unsettling imagery of the video is reminiscent of a darker corner of the Zone from Tarkovsky’s Stalker or one of the pockets of Hell in Can Evrenol’s Baskin. The figures in the video look like they’ve been smeared with the spirits of the battlefield and shaking off that psychic poison. A spectral drone serves as the backdrop to the lyrics with the swells of human voices drifting into a spiral of tones and distorted washes of sound and flickering noises. That is until the song blossoms into an expansive dynamic that breaks through the silence and the dark boundaries of the bleak nighttime forest setting. It’s the sound of hope against hope, against an extremely challenging present. For some the song may be reminiscent of some of the more unusual experiments in sound and conceptual songwriting that Peter Gabriel did early in his career, to others more in the realm of modern masters of dark yet colorful moods like Laurel Halo and Grouper. But El Morabba3 presents us with its own unique vision and expression of a conflicted world and an attempt to come to terms with how to transform these situations through creative acts. Perhaps in a way that more blunt action in the world has yet to accomplish. Watch the video for “El Wuhoosh” (which in English is “Monsters”) on YouTube and follow El Morabba3 at the links below.
If ever there was a title to the current season of human civilization, endless collapse is it and this collaborative album between Denver-based experimental electronic/ambient artist bios+a+ic and Seattle-based avant-garde soundscaper noisepoetnobody (under the name Entropic Advance) is a musical analogue to what seems like a pervasive feeling that just when we think we’ve hit a new low as a species we keep showing ourselves that we haven’t seen anything yet. There are no grand political statements or observations on this album, just that mood of seeming to be caught up in the flow of society’s static as institutions, norms, formerly generally agreed to beliefs about what constitutes truth and a reliable path to knowledge and so much of what makes up the world as we know it erodes into insolidity and an ambient white noise of what can only be described as not just future urban decay but the kind of prolonged collapse Edward Gibbon described in his colossal 1976-1789 masterpiece The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire but this time a global, interconnected civilization, the collapse of which will spare no one in the end. Humanity will probably survive but the successors to the Roman Empire never had nuclear technology, advanced biological weapons and so many of the other fun stuff awaiting us if and when global hegemon’s fragment and pass into history with a massive power vacuum filled by groups and leaders we can’t yet imagine.
This album seems to have been based on contemplating the dark future that even the most cynical and dystopian cyberpunk never really considered and how realistic it is for a collapse to not feel like one until it’s well under way. The sheets of processed white noise, the organic yet fragmented rhythms and distorted drones of the title track and “behind the projected” is reminiscent of a dark negative image of Tangerine Dream’s “Thru Metamorphic Rocks” from Force Majeure Those familiar might even flash back to the stark, gray, deeply haunting imagery of Andrei Tarkovksy’s 1979 film Stalker and it’s air of mystery and yearning for dream fulfillment in the face of existential peril. The titles of the songs tell a tale of a similar voyage of waking up one day (“sunrise”) and becoming aware that you’re living in apocalyptic times except it’s not as dramatic or as sudden as science fiction and mythology has lead you to believe (‘endless collapse”) and you try to figure out a way to preserve your sanity while reconciling yourself with the tragic reality and envisioning what it might be like to exist on the other side of this time (“a bridge between worlds” and “from the ashes”) only to hit upon the oddly comforting idea that we all go through these shorter cycles in life as part of bigger trends and often only get a brief period of respite that we should treasure (“catch a breath”). Despite these heady themes it is a soothing listen and one that also perfectly embodies the melancholic yet faintly hopeful mood of the world today. Who knows where we’ll end up in the next year or ten but this album is also a reminder that being paralyzed by those concerns isn’t going to derail the worst possibilities and that creative work can be a cathartic way to break that psychological freeze.
Listen to endless collapse on Bandcamp and also, if you’re so inclined, give a listen to noisepoetnobody’s excellent 2021 album Insanity Mirror on Bandcamp as well. Connect with Entropic Advance at the links below for more information and to stay appraised of Wesley Davis’ various creatie endeavors.
Fatima Al Qadiri Atlantics soundtrack cover (cropped)
Senegal born, Kuwaiti raised composer Fatima Al Qadiri brings the gravity of her experience with war and post-colonial history to her darkly evocative soundtrack for the critically acclaimed 2019 movie Atlantics. The movie, marking the directorial debut of Mati Diop, is the story of a woman in a suburb of Dakar, Senegal who falls in love with one of the construction workers that have been building a futuristic-looking tower although she is betrothed to another man. The track “Boys in the Mirror” is imbued with that sense of melancholic longing, conflicted emotions and portents of tragic endings. The linger keyboard melody is reminiscent of Eduard Artemiev’s beautifully brooding and desolate work for Andrei Tarkovsky’s Solaris (1972) and Stalker (1979). The depth of tone, the suggestion of texture and an organic flow that courses through your mind, haunting it long after. Listen to “Boys in the Mirror” on YouTube, stream Atlantics on Netflix from November 29 onward and follow Al Qadiri at the links provided.
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