Coline Cornélis - reeds ⧸ dielman ⧸ beets (2026)

Brussels-based artist and composer Coline Cornélis compiles three long form sound experiments on her debut for Laura Lies In, using found objects (stones, branches, fruits) to build instruments that accompany her intricate field recordings.

There's hardly a shortage of records that use environmental recordings, but really good ones are few and far between. Thankfully, Cornélis - who's an experienced DJ - approaches her art with the care and skill necessary to set it apart from the rest. Each piece, she explains, was "born from a quiet moment in which perception briefly shifted and the world seemed suddenly clearer." And although that might sound vague, it makes sense as the EP unfolds. Opener 'beets' is, obstinately, the most difficult track, a trial by fire that demands close listening as Cornélis appears to capture a storm from underneath a tarpaulin, picking out raindrops on the plastic's surface. Low, seismic bass rumbles - which we're guessing were made with rocks and contact mics - offset the fizzing, high pitched crunching and rustling and Cornélis finds just enough room to imprint trace melodies for those with a good ear.

'dielman', possibly named after Chantal Ackerman's slow cinema masterpiece, is slightly easier to interface with, though. Compared with its predecessor it's packed out with narrative beats as raindrops on limestone and traffic sounds collide with wildlife. Cornélis slowly introduces downy pads and we're teased by remnants of human contact - voices in the distance and door opening and shutting. 'reeds' meanwhile takes us to "a pond on a grey morning", where Cornélis paints uncanny harmonies over rushing winds and cracking twigs. Beautiful, really.