♫ Listen: Yaffle – Lying on the Farthest Side of Bed

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Lush miniatures of domesticity. As quiet as eyelashes, serenity descends. Like awaking, for instance, to a white light before a windowpane. And turning to she who shares your sheets, a light impress in pleats and wrinkles embracing the one who left with morning. Yet, the familiar is everywhere textured with the soft presence of a shared space. A dance of dust spins through the streaming sunbeams. Here and there, crumpled colored tissues. The lace trim of mending. The shhimering grace of dawn. Not to forget the breeze that breathes elsewhere’s delight. Or the kettle still sweating with warmth. And delicately mist diffuses on the bathroom mirror. And the gentle passion in which one submerges these whims of morning’s glimmer, glow, brings a smile to the light. To do nothing but succumb.

The latest on Lillerne’s homely subdued is the faint exquisite Lying on the Farthest Side of Bed, the second release by Moscow’s Yaffle. The farthest side of your bed perhaps, when lying with its sensuous impressions of intimacy, you share softness with the dawn.

Lying on the Farthest Side of Bed by Yaffle

♫ Listen: More Eaze – Conveyance

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Conveyance does more than it promises, “transporting someone or something from one place to another,” continuing Marcus Maurice Rubio’s tradition of releasing excellent and immersive music as More Eaze. Dude’s friggin’ prolific too – he’s so prolific that he can’t keep his Bandcamp page remotely up to date. But that’s OK! We forgive when things like Conveyance see the light of day, and we rely on the label (Lillerne Tapes) for streamability.

If I had to count…

No, it would be impossible. IMPOSSIBLE.

The thing that keeps me coming back to the More Eaze brand is the sheer variety of scope in everything he issues. Sometimes he follows a specific conceit until he’s wrestled it to the ground, like he did with the human voice on this year’s a l4ngu4g3 on Tymbal Tapes. Other instances see him exploring long-haul electronic passages, like he’s about to do on the forthcoming 0utside (Oxtail Recordings). Conveyance shies from those extremes, unfolding instead in easily ingestible portions, songs that spin their dewy webs and sparkle in the morning sun as they shift seamlessly from one to the next. And although the prone figure drawn on the cover suggests a relaxed atmosphere, the janky illustration and off-kilter representation points more toward the restless motion of the electronic building blocks More Eaze uses.

It may seem smooth on the surface, but beneath its tranquil face a million tiny fragments jostle for space like nanobots intent on enveloping us and stealing us off to the moon. The components of Conveyance whir like electrons around the atoms of ideas, ideas whose framework gains focus the further you remove yourself from the detail. As you relax your ear, the details fade, leaving you to bask in the endorphins More Eaze impels your body to release. Your mind, your body shifts perception, a trick More Eaze finds himself able to pull off with, ahem, more ease on each subsequent release.

Conveyance by More Eaze

♫ Listen: imm – fairy tale that does not know

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Those late fucking nights where you’re like, “If I kill myself, enough people love me now so nobody will give a real shit. They’d accept me completely leaving Earth.” Like, in a way where you love people (and respect and value and cherish, casually creating all of these moments in a snow globe of perfection, glorifying togetherness, no matter how rare) are available enough to let go. The memories. Enchantment spells that work afterlife; everlasting blood of zombie and offensive shit. Super heroes. Space Christ. Ape Jesus. Starlord. An emoji for emptiness. Everyone be unsatisfied.

You want this? My potato salad? It’s a walk in the park. Just get to the fucking park first:

♫ Listen: Ulla Straus – floor

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It’s November, which means I’m sick, of course. Therefore I spend my days filling my body with whatever-time-of-day-Quil and vast quantities of ibuprofen and orange juice, battling the coughing/aching/stuffy head/fever symptoms so I can rest. I drink tea when I’m sick. I never drink tea. Still, it’s come to my attention that I may be neglecting an avenue of remedy that I should have utilized long ago, one that was right there in front of my beet-red puffy face this whole time: sound therapy!

Fortunately, my doctor prescribed the perfect treatment, this brand-new release floor by Ulla Straus on Lillerne Tapes. I’m totally gonna give it a whirl, even though side effects may include nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, aching, seizures, blood clots, and sudden death. I’m just kidding! What do you think this is, Cialis or something? Nah, Ulla Straus is all right. In fact, floor is, literally and metaphorically, just what the doctor ordered, a Vicks VapoRub of sonic balm slathered onto these clogged ears, the delicate synthesizer drones a cleansing menthol gently opening up stubborn blocked passages.

As “outside” drifts from side A, bolstering my immune system, to “inside” on side B, the medicine taking effect, I feel my health returning to a noticeable point, enough that I can get up off my couch and actually contemplate doing something productive today. Yes, you heard me right — floor actually lived up to its therapeutic function! Maybe these doctors have something going for them after all — I may have to forego prayer as my only method of healthcare from now on.

And kids, please consider floor as a daily preventative measure — you know, like how you constantly take doses of Airborne or something. It’ll slowly break up all that gunk that builds up on the inside of your body over time, the gunk that makes you all tense and jittery. And sometimes sick.

♫ Listen: anthéne – fade

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Catapulted forward with little licks of electricity. Not exactly floaty. Exactly cloudy. A little murky. Half-mast because there’s not enough rope left. Directions of the wind wandering, lost. A quest in infinite depths. Reflections HD. A surface so calm and crystal clear the view to the bottom is miles, yet exactly there. Everything swimming in harmony. Crusade of complete freedom.

fade like anthéne into
Lillerne Tapes in edition of 50: =”https://lillernetapes.bandcamp.com”>