From Corners Unknown

In Quantum is a cinematic dark ambient project helmed by Swedish producer and composer, Eric Peterson. A handful of months back, during July 2019, he debuted his project on the Cryo Chamber label with his LP Memory 417. However, this project of Eric’s has existed for many years prior to this release. Though it is not exactly known how far the lineage of this project goes back, we do know that In Quantum is a fresh name for an older project. Eric has been actively producing, crafting, recording, mixing, and mastering music since the late 80s. And for a time he was a member of several smaller industrial groups in Sweden.

It is worth mentioning Eric’s historied musical endeavors as so much of it seems to permeate Memory 417‘s fabric. Though I have not personally listened to the industrial groups of which he was a member, pulsations of this genre are heard and felt throughout his album’s run time. Memory 417 takes place in the early spring of 2074. A transhumanist revolution transpired and the megacorporations bought the people and their respective nations. Their autonomy claimed. There are few lucky enough to dwell within the towering structures of the megacorporations, but at the cost of being forever linked to a semantic network so as to control them like a hivemind: more intelligent than humans, but soulless.

The conceptual framework Memory 417 is built upon leaves us a faint sketch that we, the listeners, are able to shade in with our own ideas and stories. This record unfurls like a soundtrack for a movie that does not exist. Electronic beats and textures drizzle across the megacity, casting it in a cyberpunk haze. Several characters are introduced throughout the record’s duration; however, their dialogue is brief, allowing us to bask in Eric’s compositions in order to flesh out the actions and perceptions of each. There is much to dissect in Memory 417 and we hope you enjoy our exploration of it. Thank you for listening.

Children of Finland Fighting in Norway (C.O.F.F.I.N) are an Aussie pub thrash quintet from the shores of Sydney. Founded back in 2005, they formulated when they were school mates, and in 2011, they crafted their first LP while in high school. From there C.O.F.F.I.N went on to produce two more full-lengths, a handful of EPs, and a live album with a myriad of international gigs along the way. It is their two most recent offerings, Be Gone (EP) and Piss~Up (LP) that is the substance of conversation for this podcast episode.

Both Connor and myself had not know of C.O.F.F.I.N’s existence until Tarek of Intercourse brought them to light for us mere months ago. He turned us onto Piss~Up and within a handful of weeks, the quintet happened to drop their latest three-track cluster of tunes, Be Gone. We thought Be Gone‘s release was a good excuse to illuminate the latest endeavor undertaken by the band while simultaneously expounding upon our love for Piss~Up in a retrospective manner. And since Tarek endowed us with C.O.F.F.I.N’s gnashing energy, we thought it would be fun to bring him on this episode so he too could express his wonderment.

Where Piss~Up oozes a plethora of dynamic shifts, Be Gone is succinctly melodic. Given that EPs are shorter in nature, it’s not surprising for Be Gone to experiment with new textures and thus sound a titch different from Piss~Up. It showcases the band’s honing of their craft to create delectable melody while retaining their signature bite. And though their next LP’s release is not known at this time, Be Gone seems, at least in part, to signify a broadening of C.O.F.F.I.N’s palette. Their razor-sharp lyrics, political wit, and vigorous gang vocals continue to be plentiful. Their rambunctiousness streams unfettered. A handful of piss-related stories from Tarek are fittingly divulged in the episode ahead. Thank you so much for listening.

God Body Disconnect is a cinematic dark ambient project from the mind of Bruce Moallem. Several weeks back, Connor and I had the sincere pleasure of reviewing Bruce’s latest auditory undertaking, The Mist Between Mirrors. And a week or so after that review’s publication, I connected with Bruce to conduct what may be the most in-depth podcast interview on From Corners Unknown thus far.

Back in his late teenage years, Bruce was the drummer for the New Jersey-based psychedelic death metal outfit Dripping. They crafted one record titled Disintegration of Thought Patterns During a Synthetic Mind Traveling Bliss and while wrapping up the album’s recording in the studio, they amicably disbanded. In the years following Dripping’s dissolution Bruce would wander about other sonic pastures. Post-rock, dark jazz, black metal, and more, he kept himself rather busy. However, most, if not all of these endeavors did not materialize in the way Dripping did with full label support and professional backing. But in 2016, Bruce emerged from obscurity as God Body Disconnect on the cinematic dark ambient label, Cryo Chamber.

His debut LP Dredge Portals was one I found particularly striking upon release, especially in comparison to the label’s catalog at that time. It featured spoken word from Bruce and though spoken word had been used on albums preceding Dredge Portals, the candidness of his words and his manner of speaking rendered his tale deeply relatable, particularly due to its reflective nature. I won’t reel on and on about the conceptual framework upon which God Body Disconnect hangs as I don’t want to spoil the conversation, but it’s worth noting that this podcast is teeming with dozens of details that have not been divulged by Bruce elsewhere on the web. We cover a large expanse of his music career, how Dripping and God Body Disconnect are related from a conceptual point of view, how God Body Disconnect came into existence, and we also delve into the abstract nature of the inner self (in addition to much more). Thank you so much for listening.

Zeresh is an atmospheric dark folk project helmed by Israel denizen Tamar Singer. Though this genre descriptor is relatively apt, there exists a sundry of textures and tonal tendrils that broach its confines on her debut LP, Farewell. Gurgling swells of harsh noise fester infrequently, imbuing a perennial sense of unease. And this gnawing sensation is further promulgated by fragments of discordant notes. Some acoustic strums are jagged against the ears, though every so often you hear these impenetrable electric guitar fissures that sprawl from veins of doom metal.

The mood exuding from Farewell is amorphous yet simultaneously steeped in mysticism. Like a billowing haze of grey, you can make out shapes of melody and hear Tamar’s soothing croon, but their fluidity floods over your body, impressing a sense of wonderment that renders you isolated in one glimmer and uplifted the next. Her lyrics are sourced from poets long since perished, such as William Ernest Henley, William Butler Yeats, and Aleksandrovich Bolk. So effortlessly does she inhale their poeticism and breathe a verdant folk tune. It’s a sincere challenge to articulate the feelings that percolate from Farewell. Despite our words here, we undertake the endeavor to expound upon where this record transported us whilst listening. A glass house perched on a bluff overlooking mist-laden pines or a snug blanket wrapped over your torso as a cozy fireplace crackles in the early days of autumn. We had a lot to say about Farewell and we hope you enjoy our discussion of it. Thank you so much for listening.

It’s been a little while since our last artist interview podcast here on the site, but here we make a return with a more in-depth interview of the New Jersey-based harsh noise/power electronics project, Dead Twin. You may recall my briefer interview with John from several months back where we spent 30 minutes or so discussing Dead Twin and he then performed an improvised live set. With that under our belts, we thought it would be fun to do an even deeper dive into John’s abrasive project.

Now we did conduct a more expansive interview before this one you’re about to listen to, however, the audio quality was rather subpar and I did not want to subject you all to its persistent anomalies (though if you want to brave the raw conversation, it is on our Patreon). From that interview, specifically toward its conclusion, John noted the existence of a personal Dead Twin record of his, titled Unhappy, that is not published on the web. And shortly after that interview concluded, he noted that he’d be willing to send me the record with the stipulation that I do not share it with other people. After confirming my respect for his wishes, he transmitted the album.

Unhappy is a fascinating ambient collage of John’s childhood. It’s one that exudes intimacy and simultaneously pays respects to his brother, Peter, who never experienced the world as he was a heartbreaking miscarriage. The album is not without its piercing walls of noise, but relative to the breadth of his Dead Twin discography, Unhappy is introspective and touching. Though these more ambient and field recording tracks from Unhappy will not be shared in this interview, save the eviscerating harsh noise assault “Rage (25 Counts of Battery)”, John notes that he is willing to share the record with folks who are genuinely intrigued by our discussion of it. He does ask that you not share it with others if you decide to listen, however. You can contact him directly on Facebook, Instagram, what have you, to request a link to listen to Unhappy, or you can reach out to me directly and I will put you in contact with him.

Beyond our in-depth discussion of Unhappy, John also delves more broadly into Dead Twin, illuminating its origins and its subsequent evolution over its relatively brief existence thus far. I won’t spoil much else as we cover a lot of ground in this episode. Thank you so much for listening and I sincerely hope you enjoy our exchange.

Tomb Mold is a bestial Toronto-based death metal quartet. In their relatively brief existence thus far they have crafted three LPs and a handful of EPs. Though prolific may be too hyperbolic a word to describe their output (at least at this juncture), their LPs have been spilling out at an annual pace beginning with their Primordial Malignity in 2017. The following year came Manor of Infinite Forms. And in 2019, we are graced with the auditory repugnance of their latest effort, Planetary Clairvoyance.

Though Connor and myself are not well familiarized with Tomb Mold's LPs preceding Planetary Clairvoyance, the quartet is on quite the cosmo-bound trajectory within extreme metal circles. Part of this seems to stem from their unfettered outpouring of abrasive, bone-shattering tracks, but once you steep yourself in the malefic auras oozing from this record it begins to come into focus. Fluid are the instruments as they transmit rapid fluctuations of intoxicating tempo changes. Spasms of blast beats are stymied by lurid, cranium-crushing respites. And between these arduous expanses of depraved death metal there exist dark ambient-like passages, which serve as a thematic binding for Clairvoyance’s seven tracks. There is much to dissect in this fresh laceration from Tomb Mold. We sincerely hope you enjoy our exchange. Thank you for listening!

Welcome back to another album reviews podcast episode where Tim and Ryan chat and dissect about four relatively disparate sonic bludgeonings. In this one, we melt into the musty auras channeled from the brutal death metal quartet, Disentomb, and their latest offering, The Decaying Light. Tim elucidates the Batushka controversy that has been rather prevalent in recent months, even though it transpired back in 2018. Regardless, we undertake the effort to settle the debate pertaining to the better record of the two projects Batushka, which Tim aptly calls Bartushka, and Krzysztof Drabikowski (spoiler: we were both much fonder of Krzysztof’s solo record). And we close out the review with our most favorite record of the bunch, Kosmískur hryllingur (Icelandic for ‘Comic horror’), the monolithic and terrifying psychedelic black metal collaboration between Skáphe and Wormlust.

Below you will find some cursory high-level detail about each band and album we discuss. Social media links are provided for each outfit. Bandcamp embed links are also provided in case you’d like to sample the sounds being discussed. Additionally, we have listed the approximate time stamp for when we begin reviewing a particular album, just in case you prefer to hear that review and not the others.

We do hope you enjoy this episode as it was a sincere pleasure for us to undertake. As always, let us know what you think of each of these records and please feel free to pass along any newer records you’d be interested in hearing us hash out.

Wazzara, old High German for ‘the waterborn’, is a fresh solo endeavor from Zurich/Switzerland-based artist, Barbara Brawand. Formerly the lead vocalist of the gothic folk project Caladmor, Barbara founded wazzara back in 2015 with an insatiable desire to articulate her fascination and kinship with the poetic nature of water. And after nearly four years of work, she makes her debut with the EP titled zessa.

An immediately striking quality about zessa is the harmonious blend of ambient textures that trickle like a babbling brook in a patch of forest long untouched. This is promulgated by baritone string arrangements that conjure a keen sense of Waldeinsamkeit. Acoustic melodies percolate with effervescence, washing over each instrument as Barbara croons. And to steep each composition in gnarled tendrils of weathered branches and roots, black metal-tinged riffs often sprawl. Amidst these skyward stretching pallisades, bogs of doom reside. Still they rest under the wan pallor of the moon’s radiance. Zessa comes together like an enchanting mist delicately strewn about a world long forgotten. We sincerely hope you enjoy this briefer dissection of Barbara’s debut EP. Thank you so much for listening.

Valborg is, in their own words, a difficult to categorize German Metal Monster residing near the Rhine River in Bonn, Germany. While we certainly resound this description of their sound, it calls to mind a monolithic cyborg compactor that dwells in the fringes of space, which slowly glasses and obliterates planets with surgical precision. This monstrosity was born into existence nearly two decades ago in 2002 and since then, they have cranked out seven auditory ingots from planets unknown. Zentrum, German for “Center”, is their latest slab of abhorrent amorphousness.

What’s immediately noticeable about the sonic innerworkings of this titan is the mechanical, unrelenting crust rhythm of the drums that pulsate at industrial tempos. Guttural vocals are spewed like an oil across the instruments, attempting to lubricate the machine’s prosaic yet hefty husk. Bass cables reverberate in a rather straightforward manner, though their perpetual murmur conjure a mesmerizing aura that, at times, lull you into a trance. All the while the instruments churn a seething ambient coil broods. It seems to promulgate the beast’s firing pistons, the incessant hum of its tirelessness as it terraforms and corrodes. Zentrum traverses a vast array of timbres during its run time. We have a lot to say about this record and we sincerely hope you enjoy our discussion of it. Thank you for listening.

God Body Disconnect is the lone cinematic dark ambient project of Bruce Moallem. Though the exact time frame of his moniker’s founding is unknown to us, his debut album, Dredge Portals, released on the Oregon-based Cryo Chamber label in January 2016. The album articulates the melancholic tale of an individual who views the world passing him by as he exists in a comatose state after tragically being shot. What makes this album particularly novel is Bruce’s use of spoken word to speak to us, the listeners. Now, relative to the Cryo Chamber discography that existed before Bruce’s debut on the label, spoken word was used in albums such as Atrium Carceri’s Metropolis; however, Bruce’s delivery steeps us in a blanket of candidness that I personally have never experienced in the dark ambient genre until his debut. The personal touch his voice imbues within each utterance, the heft of anticipation forged between each sentence delivered creates an indelible and lingering impression that leaves Bruce sounding like a friend you haven’t heard from in ages. But when you reconnect with him, it’s as if the kinship between you and he has not degraded; you can pick up a conversation with him several years later, even decades, and it’s like nothing has ever changed.

His follow-up record, Sleeper’s Fate, continues the intricate tale embodied in Dredge Portals. Though in this one we receive a new beam of shimmering light that elucidates the events that transpired on that fateful night in his debut. Bruce continues his narration and this album features several dreamy-like passages that wisp via the pulse of minimalist drumming. It conjures a sense of abstract post-rock, which was carried forward into his collaborative effort with Atrium Carceri and Cities Last Broadcast, Miles to Midnight, as well as in his latest LP, The Mist Between Mirrors.

The Mist Between Mirrors marks a new chapter in the exploration of Bruce’s being. Relative to his preceding albums, Mirrors harbors a keen sense of introspectiveness. Field recordings, many of which he gleaned from a trip to Iceland, melt into the album’s fabric. And Bruce so masterfully enmeshes them within the aforementioned post-rock textures. Ambient guitar textures rise like billows of verdant vapor, quivering amidst the incandescence of a fading sun. Only in the opening track do we hear a monologue from Bruce, which suggests a conceptual tethering to Dredge Portals and Sleeper’s Fate. For both Connor and myself, The Mist Between Mirrors called to mind several opaque memories from our respective childhoods and through this sonic dredging, a sense of longing pervaded. We sincerely hope you enjoy our review of Bruce’s latest work. Thank you so much for listening.