Rabit announces new album Les Fleurs Du Mal via Halcyon Veil

This post was originally published on this site

On November 3, electronic composer and producer Rabit will release his sophomore album. It’s called Les Fleurs Du Mal, which we of course all know is French for “The Fleurs Du Mal.”

Following up appearances on two previously EUREKA!’d albums — Elysia Crampton’s Demon City and Chino Amobi’s Paradiso — not to mention TMT’s 33rd favorite music release of 2015, Les Fleurs Du Mal is Rabit’s exploration of the self, finding out where exactly he belongs in a world growing increasingly chaotic by the second. And, like those albums by Crampton and Amobi, Les Fleurs Du Mal was devised as a product of intentional sequestering, with the goal of creating an experience that feels refined, remarkable, and real.

Les Fleurs Du Mal is set for release November 3 via Halcyon Veil and can be pre-ordered digitally or on vinyl (limited-edition white or otherwise) here. The album features guest vocals from Chino Amobi and Cecilia, who handles co-production alongside Coil’s Drew McDowall.

Watch the video for “Bleached World,” filmed in Houston during Hurricane Harvey, and check out the album’s full tracklisting, down below.

Les Fleurs Du Mal tracklist:

01. Possessed
02. Bleached World
03. Roach
04. Ontological Graffiti
05. Dogsblood Redemption
06. Prayer
07. The Whole Bag
08. Humanity’s Daughter
09. Rosy Cross
10. Ontological II
11. Prayer II (Gemme)
12. Elevation

♫ Listen: NAKED – “WHIP”

This post was originally published on this site

Feeling punched in the nose, but all the time now at the beginning and end of the day. Something trying to claw its way out your chest like a wrath escaping the chamber of bodice. Carousel infinity for fun when the flange is left on, awaiting that plane to touch down on the ghost infested runway: billowing flames.

The ignition Halcyon Veil continues to incept is pure and raw. Dripping like the goriest of PETA videos is the newest single from NAKED entitled “WHIP” off the October 6 release, TOTAL POWER EXCHANGE. Update your rage:

SHOWS
10 / 07 / 2017 ~ Serpentine Gallery Marathon, City Hall, London UK
10 / 14 / 2017 ~ UNSOUND Festival, Kraków, PL

Music Review: Mhysa – fantasii

This post was originally published on this site

Mhysa

fantasii

[Halcyon Veil; 2017]

Rating: 4/5

“Some people want to run things, other things want to run. If they ask you, tell them we were flying. Knowledge of freedom is (in) the invention of escape, stealing away in the confines, in the form, of a break. This is held close in the open song of the ones who are supposed to be silent.”
– Stefano Harney and Fred Moten, “Blackness and Governance,” p. 51 in The Undercommons: Fugitive Planning and Black Study

“Come with me/come with me/come with me inside/come with me/to feel that we belong”
– Mhysa, “Special Need Intro”


Five moments/five flights of fantasy

1. “Special Needs Intro,” “Glory Be Black”

Mhysa’s fantasii shimmers into existence, animated by a voice that echoes into the ether; her words repeated, their pitch-shifting. It invites the listener in and down, invites them to follow the voice that utters these words, this voice that drifts and pauses, bending and twisting, laced and lanced to the gossamer textures that swim beneath it. The voice invites you to share in a feeling, to enter a space, a feeling and space that is ongoing, that moves like a stream — rushing, drifting. The voice turns, its affects shifting, shuttling between serenity and melancholy, agitation and stimulation. The voice becomes voices, layered, balanced, weighted, weightless. She/It/They form(s) simmering ambiences, calling plangently, falling intimately into nothingness, into “another place, a wild place […] that continuously produces its own unregulated wildness.”1 The wild beyond.

2. “Spectrum,” “STROBE”

And then, a beat. A beat shot through by warped, sharp synths. A beat that shuffles, punches, and kicks — propulsive, probing, mercurial. The voice, returning: “You told me/ The sky was green/ I believed those things,” and “Build me a spectrum/ Only we can see/ I wanna be naive.” Naivety, resignified as a belief in the possible, an openness to that which does not and may not exist, to that which is reached through faith, by pushing through, into other spaces (“I hide in the spaces/ Where mothers can’t see/ ‘Cause I believe those things”), where the possible is reshaped, where building takes place, where order dissolves, where noise, heat, and sound vibrate and collide.

A camera’s shutter, a strident beat, hi-hat triplets. Think Jam City’s Classical Curves. “So many pics it’s like I got my own strobe light/ That flash from the back got my ass looking so right.” “Click, click, click, click, click.”

fantasii by MHYSA

3. “Bb,” “Siren Song”

“Do you ever think about it?” “Maybe sometimes” “Do you think about it now?/ Do you think about me now?” Chopped harp glissandos, an ominous beat, crawling narcotically. Caustic, minimal percussion that details precise interactions between claps, hits, and chimes. The emergence of an erotics: “What about when you’re cold at night/ Do you think about it then?” “What about if you’re lonely at night/ Do you think about it?,” “What about when you’re too warm at night/ Do you think about it then?” An eroticism at a distance, a hapticality2 (“Touching me/ And kissing me/ Loving me/ Still loving me”) that subsumes the beat. The object of desire is elsewhere, the distance between voice and object, between bodies, is mediated by fingers and lips. Lyrics and beat unfold, circling each other, tracing, touching; purposeful and patient. The voice wraps itself in textures and moods, curving and shifting across vast distances with spectral ease.

The voice reaches out, washes of sound — metallic, wailing — yawn beneath it. The voice expands with and through the sound, plunging into it, animated by it. An erotics of voice and sound — tussling, nuzzling, backs arching, limbs stretching. TLC’s “Red Light Special” is summoned, beckoning the lover inward. The request is fluid, soft, tender. This is music as persistence, a moving-with, a staying-with. Influences, resonances, and echoes the ether from which it emerges, its conditions of possibility.

4. “You’re Not About That Lyfe,” “For Doris Payne”

A return to the club. A beat that enfolds grime and ballroom — woozy melodies, fast-paced claps, breaking glass. A movement that elides the club, drifting and sliding as it meditates on its affects and possibilities. A dwelling in the swell of the ambient, in the heat of the moment, in the climax of the erotic.

“It don’t matter/ It never has”. Subterranean tones, ungraspable and dolorous. The sounds of glass, pulsing, retreating. An assemblage of discarded parts. Silence. Violence. An industrial beat that shatters and pounds. Pulse-X bass. The voice, floating above the percussive detonations, buoyed by the aftershocks. An ecstatic, inverted take on “When Doves Cry.”

5. Molten music. Liquid constructions. Streaming into the wild beyond.

1. Jack Halberstam, “The Wild Beyond: With And For The Undercommons,” p.7, in Stefano Harney and Fred Moten, The Undercommons: Fugitive Planning and Black Study

2. “Hapticality, the touch of the undercommons, the interiority of sentiment, the feel that what is to come is here. Hapticality, the capacity to feel though others, for others to feel through you, for you to feel them feeling you” – Moten and Harney, “Fantasy In The Hold,” p. 98. in The Undercommons: Fugitive Planning and Black Study

♫ Listen: Abyss X – Razor

This post was originally published on this site

A friend was telling me recently about how, for the first 10 years or so of their lives, her parents were very strict about consuming anything with refined sugar, additives, etc. As her parents began to breakup, though, this intention became less of a preoccupation for them, and eventually my friend’s diet was taken up completely by all the junk foods that they had been kept away from during childhood — candy and soda and toaster pastries and cereal, everything filler and with high fructose. As these things go, the switchover was made more dramatic by the sense of making up for lost time, catching up on all the previously secret unhealthy and heavenly delights.

This came to mind when listening to “Razor,” from Abyss X’s upcoming record Mouthed, out next Friday, September 30 on Halcyon Veil. The track captures that feeling of repression followed by overload, stability interrupted by sudden and extreme stimulation. Ingest below:

♫ Listen: Jesse Osborne-Lanthier – As The Low Hanging Fruit Vulnerabilities Are More Likely To Have Already Turned Up.

This post was originally published on this site

Like two giant pieces of steel coated in black slime being swung together, Jesse Osborne-Lanthier’s As The Low Hanging Fruit Vulnerabilities Are More Likely To Have Already Turned Up, the artist’s new release on Rabit’s Halcyon Veil label, lurches into existence and provides us with the darkest of digital noise painstakingly shaped into a relentlessly, impressively fierce half hour.

Sounding as if it is being spit from some forgotten corner of deep space or debugged out of a truly evil piece of computer code, the tones here are harsh, bleak — sharp glitches embedded in ultra sub bass, punishing distortion faded into huge reverb, unholy synth choirs, wildly de-pitched claps, repurposed 128kbps artifacts, percussion that sounds like a chain knocking into the side of a rusted bell, etc. This is heavy digital music, totally inorganic, yet fully human.

A.T.L.H.F.V.A.M.L.T.H.A.T.U. is available from Halcyon Veil and can be streamed below in its entirety via SoundCloud. Physical and digital formats will be available August 12.