Traditionally a real-time improviser, Thorn applies the same method here: live improvisation, spontaneous structure-building, and experimental mélanges of violin and code. Many of its foggy textures derive from Haze, a tool he developed for generating densely patterned lo-fi soundscapes.

A sonic memoir imbued with violin and experimental code, a curious doubling of terms begins at the churning waters of Necarney Creek merging with the Pacific. Unfolding from pure lyricism into machinic textures, the music summons the verdant twilight of the primeval forest and the glow of the city lights it ad-umbrates. The machinic is both refuge and trial in this work, though the final word is the fracturing, hard-driven logic-become-logistics that may signal a morbid dénouement.

Central to the practice of remixing and collaborative creation is the principle of relinquishing individual control in favour of collective immersion. Both the remixer and collaborators must adopt a responsive and adaptive approach, prioritizing dialogic engagement with the material and the creative contributions of others. This relinquishment fosters an environment conducive to discovery, wherein the emergent work transcends the limitations of individual vision.

The act of remixing music and engaging in collaborative writing represents a transformative creative practice wherein existing auditory and textual elements are deconstructed and reassembled into intricate, overlapping layers. It is an intimate process and chance to get close to other artists and their work at a deep level.

Built on layered drones, fleeting percussion, airy melodies, fragments of piano, and richly textured field recordings, the album moves like a single long breath across ten seamlessly woven tracks. Neys constructs shifting sound patterns—overlapping, dissolving, re-emerging—that evoke a place just beyond reach, both familiar and strange. The music never settles entirely, instead inviting the listener to move closer, to listen deeper, to stay present.

I usually stay away from using field recordings of birds in my tracks, as I think it is a bit of a trope in ambient music. However, those moments where I sat in the small outdoor space that I have at my house, are very valuable to me and deserve to have a place here. Together with the lines of electric guitar that move in and out of this track.

Filament is taken from "Out of the Blue", Tomo-Nakaguchi’s third album on Audiobulb and marks a significant evolution in his sonic exploration. Meticulously crafting intricate soundscapes from a vast array of audio elements, this album showcases a new level of complexity and beauty. Ranging from serene ambient sounds to aggressive noise, the album takes listeners on an unpredictable sonic journey. With its rapid shifts and layered textures, each track feels like a rollercoaster ride through sound. The intricate layering of sounds creates a sense of floating through a cosmic expanse.

The antithesis of the dry, inharmonic textures of a ping pong ball, pitched, resonant timbres coalesce.

Through an effortless merging of two minds, their respective worlds of sound and experimentation are even further expanded in this new album. During the listening experience thoughts dissolve into open space. Michel’s interplay of instruments, electronics, tiny melodies and grainy decomposed sounds; along with Jeff’s tape loops, atmospherics, fresh textures and micro rhythms, flow seamlessly into a diaphanous river of sound. Listening is a joy. A true alchemy of sound and vision.

“We were striving to visualize an abstract concept by weaving together our unique sounds. Imagine a bird flying over the water, swooping gently up and down, almost touching the surface, but not quite. Creating a pattern similar to the warp and weft of fabric, but in this case the fabric of sound.” — Michel & Jeff

Trembling echoes flow through glass veins like thick mercury, acidic drops seep through air coats, and boiling echoes freeze into amorphous resinous forms. The concrete block of the building hums with the cold rhythm of a repetitive arpeggio _io _io _io _io. The resin absorbs the vibrations of the synthetic flickers, and blue light wraps around its solidified structures. The chemical objects hum light melodies bouncing off the walls as they operate. Drones are born in the gaps, weakening as they come to the surface and giving way to liquid passages. Each tone is a fraction of a chain reaction _sin _io _sin _io, which emerges and weakens, appears and appears and fades away again.

The artistic work of Jacek Doroszenko focuses on the relationship between sound and space, capturing the unique audio or audiovisual identity of the various environments in which one moves and realizes oneself. The audio track in his works refers to the characteristics of a location, thus referring, among other things, to the necessity of learning to listen and look in visual art. The sound elements of a chemical factory in the city of Ústí nad Labem became the core of the new work for Gallery 3, to explore the variability and possible complexity of the sound ecosystem of this place.

Somewhere between the hum of parallel pipes and the inaccessible laboratories of the chemical factory, the dissonant chords of liquids and machinery reverberate endlessly. The space in which these sound patches resonate causes reverberation and interference of multiplied tones. In this dense composition, it is the space itself that performs the sounds, reflecting and playing them back again, as if it were trying to perform an arpeggio. Sometimes these arpeggios merge into a sound mass and emphasize the acoustic pressure of the chemical space. The resin produced here has the character of a sonic glue, moving as if in slow motion and filling one vessel after another. Inorganic compounds exhibit a range of binding properties, as does this sound composition, where individual phrases are connected by invisible filaments.