Ten releases that range from okay to magnificent (at least to our ears).

B L A C K I E... with spaces and all caps - Face the darkness II

Let's get this out of the way: yes, B L A C K I E does share certain aesthetics with Death Grips, but the main difference lies within their approach to the backing tracks that serve as a contention wall for the raw voice delivery. Death Grips sometimes sound as if MC Ride is screaming whatever without any regard for the sounds that surround him; B L A C K I E has a more unified sound, even if this sometimes robs the music of a sense of unpredictability.

In Face the Darkness II there's a formula that runs throughout, at times making the album suffer from being a little redundant, but the intensity is strong enough to keep us awake. The drums fall within the same dynamics whenever a chorus starts (syncopated rhythms that match the vocal inflections) and, overall, the same sounds keep popping up (there's a sax-like timbre that appears more than once), but B L A C K I E's unhinged delivery, that one only can imagine match his much-praised live performances, manages to turn those flaws into something minimal. His screams creak somewhere between metal's more unpolished fringes and typical hardcore, which add a lot of weight to the instrumentals; there are parts in which you can hear B L A C K I E's voice fading and breaking due to all the force being put into his screaming, which, you can call me a sadist, but I think is great, as it shows that this artist is not afraid to bleed for their craft even when no one is watching.

SCORE: 7.2

Sofía Bertomeu - Spices

The Spanish producer Sofía Bertomeu presents a collection of pieces that didn't get to fully see the light last year, that showcase her skills to craft seemingly simple tracks that are bursting with details, as well as the ample range that can have her composing relaxing early 2000s indietronica-styled pieces, to quasi-industrial, glitching heavy-hitters.

These tracks are, for the most part, well-behaved electronic compositions that won't blow your speakers due to their sheer force nor will they induce a panic attack for being too off-kilter; in some instances, we may be reminded of Aphex Twin's more accessible moments or The Album Leaf's least sublime sound explorations, but Sofía never strays too much from that middle ground.

Nonetheless, this cannot be considered a comfort zone, as it feels more like a conscious choice taken by the artist. We can tell this because of the great aural details she endows all her pieces with: if she wanted to be completely accessible, albeit uneventful, she would refrain from certain production choices, or from tracks like "2020 Spices", the undeniable standout piece because of how it displays both of Sofía's sides, mixing the abrasive and granular with the polished and glossy, in a very cohesive way.

The album maintains its momentum, which is another strength by Bertomeu: she knows how to arrange her tracks so their range can be fully appreciated. The harsh attack of "2020 Spices" is strategically positioned between the dark and dreamy "Beauty Before the Fire" (which may explain its title) and the equally oneiric "Probability". Spices closes on a more abstract and darker note, with a track that actually feels like it was put there to bring things to end and actually provide closure.

SCORE: 7.5

SAJJRA - UCHURACCAY

Inspired by the horrific events that spawned from the conflict between the Sendero Luminoso and the Peruvian state army, Christian Galarreta (Sajjra) had been developing “Uchuraccay” for quite some time now (going as far as 2004). A conceptual soundpiece that faithfully reflects the state of constant fear and despair that bellicose events bring upon everyone except the very people that start them. “Uchuraccay” features piercing and sudden screams that slowly die out; its anatomy is made out of a metallic structure that can barely move, emitting rattling and unsettling sounds that sometimes burst out of nowhere, feeling like gunshots being fired without any remorse. It is curious how the piece can feel so minimal despite of all the elements that compone it, but that’s what gives it so much weight, especially halfway through, in which the paused cadence is attacked by a dissonant discharge that fades into a drone that closes the piece on an ominous note. The conflict is now over, but at what cost?

By contrast, “SIRINU WAYRA TANQANAKUY (Otoacoustic Emissions from the wind)” thrives on a more peaceful origin -processed field recordings- creating a trance-like state; the goal is to induce auditory hallucinations through the use of a very specific setting of equalization (it almost sounds lo-fi, as there’s no bass), to bring out hidden overtones as the piece progresses. If I was able to get to that state using my not-so-good headphones (better ones are on the way), I can only imagine how the overall experience will be enhanced with a good quality sound-system. “SIRINU” is not completely soothing, but when compared to the the previous track, it is as close as we might get. There’s an eerie, ghostlike presence flowing through it; we can feel the peace but also the loneliness of the spaces that were sonically captured by the artist.

Both pieces are highly expressive and succeed in creating a full-on experience rather than providing simple entertainment; Christian is aiming at altering our perception and affecting our emotions —even though the latter may only happen with the first track, as “SIRINU” has a more cerebral approach. Nonetheless, the listener won’t walk out of this unscathed.

SCORE: 7.7

Jeremiah Cymerman/Charlie Looker - A Horizon Made of Canvas

A nerve-inducing album, that feels like it should be the score to an artsy slasher film. A Horizon Made of Canvas moves with predatory patience; Looker's piano is dissonant and its cadence is paused as if it were trying to hide after every step it takes while stalking Cymerman's clarinets, which sound desperate and erratic, almost as if they knew they were being followed.

This is a dark experience that, instead of going for the usual droning textures hidden behind a thick veil of reverb or heavy processing, has its elements out in the open: the piano, the clarinets, and the guitar all sound like they should, but they are played with a menacing and trembling touch, not afraid of showing their dark side.

This is mostly free-form so, while no track follows a specific pattern, they all share that familiar stream of consciousness flow; however, we are guided by a bizarre sense of direction. Looker and Cymerman's communication is driven by suspiciousness and caution, but it creates a wonderful noir environment.

SCORE: 7.9

Frida V. de la Sota - Clarinete en Cuarentena

The pandemic has really heightened the intimate feel of home recordings; we're all sharing this collective lockdown and we have become so accustomed to our limited space, that the songs feel as if they were being performed in our living room. This is the case with Frida V. de la Sota's aptly-titled latest release, which is full of lively pieces that go from collaborations to solo efforts, taking from both a classical approach and a more contemporary mindset (in the second track, Frida merges sounds from the outside with what's being played).

The clarinet already has a beautiful timbre on its own, but Frida's highly expressive playing enhances its natural beauty, which makes the more traditional pieces shine instead of just feeling like a run-of-the-mill performance by a trained musician --the opening track is pure polyphonic gorgeousness that slowly fuses into mono. However, Frida is not afraid of exploring extended techniques and slight electronic processing to get different sounds out of her instrument as we can hear on "La rana que tomó el té". The last track feels like an aural massage, not because of its closeness (it is an ASMR piece), but rather because of how it gently pans from one side to the other.

Clarinete en Cuarentena is an album that provides an easy-listening experience, but it is far from being an empty one. The versatility shown by Frida puts the musician in a privileged position of being able to cater to both a classical and an alternative audience. She is right in the middle, safe from trends, but also far enough from the claws of uptight traditionalism.

SCORE: 8

Pedestrian Deposit - Nostalgia 2000-06

Three hours of the nuanced harsh noise Pedestrian Deposit has become known for. This is mostly uncompiled and unreleased material from when the project was still a one-piece. For all its intensity and harshness, the album actually goes by (relatively) quick --after all, three hours are three hours no matter how enjoyable the experience is. This is a perfect throwback to a more chaotic phase without feeling like a cheap cash-grab; the compilation does not feel redundant or unnecessary when put next to their official discography as it sheds some light on Jonathan Borges solitary evolution and the project's imminent addition of Shannon A. Kennedy (Nephila).

Throughout the album, we will be subjected to the typical aesthetics of harsh noise: frequency clusters clashing between high and low, feedback running amok, and those lovely guttural textures that sound as if someone (or something) is spitting electrified and rusted razorwire; however, along the way we will find gentler cuts that manage to bring the adrenaline rush down, while still being fundamentally aggressive.

To the purists (i.e. people that ridiculously hate Pulse Demon just because it's famous), that's a big no-no; to others, it is a sign of growth and evolution, but most importantly, it is the inevitable result of trying to push things further, not toning or dumbing things down. All the tracks here are "good", but the ones that really shine -despite their decaying textures- are those that feature more than what is expected from these extreme (un)musical approaches.

SCORE: 8

Evitceles - Black Leaf (Opal Tapes)

A deceiving album by Bulgarian producer Etien Slavchev, Black Leaf sounds like a compilation from different artists more than an album under a single name. This is not to say that we're listening to dark electronics with dub-tinged production style one minute, and glossy bubble-gum pop on the next, but there are moments in which I had to check my player just to make sure I was listening to the same album. Nonetheless, we can find common ground in the excellent production, that feels spacey enough to let those dark reverbs and delays to move freely, like ghosts on an abandoned warehouse where raves used to take place.

Starting off with ominous ambient pieces, Black Leaf builds up after the third track. There's a very strong influence of genres like dubstep, jungle, drum n bass, and industrial, but Evitceles manages to avoid sounding like a blatant copy of any specific artist or even dated at all. Yes, there are parts that will remind us of Pan Sonic ("Hydrogenic Murder") or Kode 9 ("Sink", "Private Rage"), but that's just a testament of their overall importance and legacy more than a sign of lack of creativity on Etien's behalf.

While remaining loyal to his dark impulses, Etien is able to give us a nuanced experience that doesn't feel oppressive all the time; there's even a track that's just a bass being played with some delay and reverb, and "The Night Heals My Burning Chest", has a pulsating beat that sounds distant, putting a sampled conversation and a shiny synth line on the front. Evitceles has a very distinct filter through which his influences are processed, and his range is impressive. Black Leaf may not have the most cohesive flow, but that is not too much of a problem, as it feels more like an OST in that sense... the movie it might be scoring will depend on your mindset at the moment, but it will no doubt be an intense story.

SCORE: 8.2

V/A - I Hope This Finds You Well in These Strange Times Vol. 3

A compilation that displays the talents of different modern composers, ranging from contemporary classical music to electronic experimentation, sound art, choral counterpoint among other practices. This is the third installment of a series that began since the pandemic started, and it is as varied and interesting as the previous chapters; nonetheless, as is the case with the Swiss label, even the more radical cuts lean more towards well-behaved experimentation. Don't expect bland and toothless approaches, but also don't aim to be overwhelmed by extreme approaches to experimentation.

This is a very eclectic set of pieces and none of them disappoint. Opening with a quirky composition for voice and ending with a mysterious soundscape piece, I hope this Finds You Well has an elegant flow that avoids monotony, while also maintaining a certain aesthetic within all of its eclecticism.

John Richards' track, with its androgynous effect on the voice and glitchy textures, sounds as if could have been released on Posh Isolation; Lola de la Mata explores harsh textures, while hyperdawn is abstract electronica propelled by samples and field recordings, along the same vein as Arca or Yves Tumor. We can also hear more "traditional" approaches such as Robert Bentall's string-led piece and Reylon/mantawomxn's textural and timbral explorations.

Making a compilation in which all the contributions are consistent quality-wise is difficult enough, but this one makes it seem like an effortless task.

SCORE: 8.3

Sonologyst - Dust of Human Race

Another haunting delivery from Italian sound artist, curator, and founder of USG and all its subsidiaries, Raffaele Pezzella. This could be seen as the continuation of his sound essays about how death is seen and dealt with through different cultures, one that started with last year's Ancient Death Cults and Beliefs (Cold Spring). This is not new territory for the artist, so he is pretty much in control here: we get his usual mix of obscure samples, manipulated sound sources, complex arrangement, and seamless flow, but, as always, he is able to endow his work with enough sense of growth to make it feel that we're looking forward and not sideways when it comes to his overall catalog.

Unlike his previous album, Raffaele doesn't aim to make us feel trapped and claustrophobic; these pieces have a similar aesthetic to Phantoms (2019) in that they feel wide open, but the pure subject matter is more than enough to turn it into a heavy experience. Nonetheless, as dark as Raffaele’s work may be, it is also very well balanced. As Martin Eric Ain once said: “There are many, many shades and colors to darkness than just black”, Raffaele knows when to attack and when to let the tension build up with minimal interference, instead of just giving in to the same old trope of harshness and dissonance to create discomfort; the approach is more “psycho-thriller” than “full-on slasher film”.

We transition from the ethereal, created by the intricate sound design, to the terrestrial via earthly samples that anchor our wandering spirits to the physical plain even if these clips feature morbid scenes: In “Chiangimuerti”, we can listen to the ancient practice of “professional mourners” that would cry and sing at someone’s wake. Thanks to Raffaele’s careful approach, we are spared an overly dramatic experience; the sonic textures surrounding the samples are discrete and minimal, thriving more on mystery and intrigue than on cheap jumpscares.

SCORE: 8.4

I N S T I T U T R I C E - Cohortes

A rhythm n’ texture study that combines ethnic percussive instruments with kitchenware and punk-rock intensity. The sounds on Cohortes are not so much manipulated, but it is more about using all these tools in a different way than the one they were intended to in order to display their timbral possibilities. INSTITUTRICE sometimes sounds like a sound-art project and sometimes they feel like a mini Einsturzende Neubauten due to the force with which they are striking all these objects that lay in front of them.

There’s also a dual nature haunting Cohortes, in that it can feel sacred, dictated by deep, primal impulses, but it also comes off as methodical and calculated. Each side complements the other perfectly and it all seamlessly converges with power and delicacy. One minute we may be overwhelmed by the deepness and sharpness of the metallic transience, but the way the sound decays brings peace; the next minute we may be listening to manipulated objects that soothe with their amplified textures.

Everything this duo does is achieved organically, so a pristine approach to capturing the tracks was paramount. The clarity of the recording really brings out the properties of each instrument and object; even if we cannot fully recognize what’s emitting certain sounds, there’s a sense of lucidity all throughout. We can imagine the most mundane and austere setup or the most complex mechanisms triggering what we’re hearing; while this is meant to be absorbed as a whole, but there’s something about trying to break it apart, thus creating an interactive experience.

SCORE: 8.5