UnicaZürn - Transpandorem (2017)
Artist: UnicaZürn
Title: Transpandorem
Year Of Release: 2017
Label: Touch / Tone57
Genre: Ambient
Quality: 16bit-44,1kHz FLAC
Total Time: 38:58
Total Size: 198 mb
WebSite: Album Preview
TracklistTitle: Transpandorem
Year Of Release: 2017
Label: Touch / Tone57
Genre: Ambient
Quality: 16bit-44,1kHz FLAC
Total Time: 38:58
Total Size: 198 mb
WebSite: Album Preview
1. Breathe the Snake 1 (06:14)
2. Breathe the Snake 2 (06:13)
3. Breathe the Snake 3 (06:16)
4. Pale Salt Seam 1 (06:45)[/i]
5. Pale Salt Seam 2 (06:45)
6. Pale Salt Seam 3 (06:45)
Fresh from his duties on the new Shirley Collins album, Cyclobe and Coil’s Stephen Thrower meets David Knight (Arkkon, Shock Headed Peters) on their 4th album as UnicaZürn, luring us into deeply abstracted ambient dimensions following the themes of two self-released albums on uZu Music in 2009 and 2013, and more recently Omegapavillion (2016) for The Tapeworm.
In two seamless parts, breaking down to three movements each, the duo source inspiration from their local environments - Knight on the banks of the Thames, Thrower on the East Sussex coast - to conjure a lop-sided parallel dimension plotted out along uniquely dissonant scales and melted meters which are perhaps best described in terms of brownian motion and laws of alien, otherworldly physics.
The distant glow of classic deep-space sci-fi soundtracks decays in the background against stereo split dimensions of amorphous mystery, cleaving the head between searching tendrils of plasmic synth in the three parts of Breath the Snake, or, in the sections of Pale Salt Seam, like the schizoid mind of a character in Jeff Mills’ recent album cycle who’s attempting to come to terms with the fact they are trillions of miles from any form of life
In two seamless parts, breaking down to three movements each, the duo source inspiration from their local environments - Knight on the banks of the Thames, Thrower on the East Sussex coast - to conjure a lop-sided parallel dimension plotted out along uniquely dissonant scales and melted meters which are perhaps best described in terms of brownian motion and laws of alien, otherworldly physics.
The distant glow of classic deep-space sci-fi soundtracks decays in the background against stereo split dimensions of amorphous mystery, cleaving the head between searching tendrils of plasmic synth in the three parts of Breath the Snake, or, in the sections of Pale Salt Seam, like the schizoid mind of a character in Jeff Mills’ recent album cycle who’s attempting to come to terms with the fact they are trillions of miles from any form of life