Wednesday 16 August 2017


The subterranean tunnelling feel of this, the cold stark descent into the earth, the stifling temperature of it, the mild claustrophobia like miasma tendrils reaching through the labyrinthine space. The house beat of this track is muffled, a juddering rumble, deep and formless, simply the subduing boom of it, this treble-drained procession of kicks helps that underground feeling, the smothered nature of them feeling very in-the-earth, not cavernous but enclosed, buried. 'This One' by Polish musicmaker FM2 continues with the fluttering delay of unknown creatures in the dark, light abrasions texturising the lo-fi murk of these soft but percussive plasma synths, their bouncing stutter like some sort of echolocation, heightening the lonely wall of rocks that bound this stony warren like a blind mirror.

And in these tunnels lined with bare rock and punctuated with glowing minerals and calcified growths there is damp mist, drip-dropping water, the whispering reverb from the ticking hi-hats like rhythmic rain, open hi-hat razor sharp metallics leading the expedition to where they want to go, a garbled vocal sample like a lost radio update crackling into dust, finally around halfway through—the main chamber. How vast, sunlight glaring in from some unknown opening many hundreds of feet above, plantlife swaying in some warm errant breeze, the new brighter tone of the synths a gloss of triumphal discovery, a glittering upbeat new refraction, happier than before, all-encompassing bass gripping your body, soothing and cleansing, tumultuous exploration and its new world end game as told by this analogue techno journey of sound.

FM2 Internet Presence ☟

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