(Baskaru)

This CD has plenty of reasons to be appreciated at a first listen, and several ones that will make you return to it often. Despite its title, it is full of digital sounds and looping atmospheres that sound, well, warm, ever since the very first minutes of the initial “End game”; then again, its inherent movements make me think about the prolification of bacteria under experimental conditions, small cells and minuscule fragments continuously reproducing in a sloping luminescence of uncertainty and dejection. Never for a moment the laptop criteria applied by English generate that unwelcome sense of overwhelming detachment typical of this kind of records, all the frequencies acting like directional instruments rather than auricular weaponry. Most sources are barely identifiable and I much prefer that way, remaining in the limbo of alien chorales (“Fleck”) and post-Thomas Köner degradation (“Swan”, the highest point of the whole album). Should you need a genuine subsonic brain-bombing instead, look no further than “Desert road”. Everything sounds familiar in a way, yet we often experience the same childhood feeling of being lost in a supermarket: lights, colours and faces a whole undifferentiated blur, while we anxiously wait for our mama to retrieve us. Less than 40 minutes long, “For varying degrees of winter” is almost perfect.

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