Another dig into the fertile synth scene soil, with more sonic blooming from Polypores, The Central Office of Information and Everyday Dust

Spring has definitely sprung and if the hardest half of winter couldn’t suppress another surge of releases from the electronic scene any more than lockdown living did across 2020, then we still face a benign challenge to keep pace with it all. Here below then is another attempt to pick through some of the ceaselessly abundant produce.

Whilst Stephen James Buckley has loosely vowed – like fellow sleep-refusenik Martin Jensen of The Home Current – to take a breather from writing/recording for some of 2021, labels are continuing to clear the stockpile that built up during last year under his Polypores guise. Which means we still have the Myriad double-LP to appear (via the increasing essential Castles in Space subscription series) in the coming months and his first stateside label release for California’s Behind the Sky, in the shape of the beautifully presented yet virtually unpronounceable Shpongos, arriving just about now.

Taking another natural-world narrative route after the likes of the Flora and Azure long players, this latest collection takes inspiration from the fundamental interconnectness of fungi life that joins up beneath the surface of the world and transposes it into Buckley’s modular synth sculpting.

Somewhat less abrasive than the recent Chaos Blooms LP on Polytechnic Youth yet sharing some its of free-form spirit, Shpongos shapes some mind-boggling mycelial moods. Veering through undulating ethereality (“Everything Connected as One”), deep pulses and pings (“Soil Computer”), serene tiers of drones (“Prototaxite”), pizzicato twangs and buzzing (the title track) and fizzing percussion-less techno (“Exopheromones”), Shpongos sounds like the micro-noises of subterranean environments have benevolently taken over Buckley’s machines to amplify themselves.

Heady but earthy stuff all told, that very much lives up to the character of its stunning sleeve. Polypores proselytisers will certainly be able to sustain the faith with this one.

Although having explored very similar themes in awe of the ecosystems that entwine beneath our feet, with his previous Woodford Halse outing Treedom, Alex Cargill’s return to the same outlet as The Central Office of Information with Private Issue Synthetic Music 2010 – 2020 forges a broader and less conceptual approach.

Graduating from Woodford Halse’s treasurable trademark tape/download artefact bundles to a gourmet gatefold CD package, we instead find Cargill clearing out his outtakes and leftovers cabinet, drawing together tracks cut in the run up to COI’s eponymous album for Castles in Space, the aforementioned Treedom and from more recent home studio sessions.

Far from being a collection of digital detritus from his hard drive, the fifteen gathered tracks cover an impressive amount of ground whilst retaining a cohesive flow throughout. Again blurring the boundaries between the synthetic and the organic as well as the sleek and the rough, Private Issue Synthetic Music confirms Cargill as a strong albeit friendly rival to his prodigiously productive peers.

Hence, proceedings pass through abandoned mansion hauntings with salutes to Mark Brend’s work as Ghostwriter (“The Wrong Kind of Cuckoo Clock”); the burbling beats buoyancy of Cargill’s side-project collaboration with Martin Jensen as Transient Visitor (“Woodpecker”); warped Wendy Carlos-like workouts (“Waxy Face”); stripped-down psych-folk noodling (“The Mental Cupboards of My Mind”); Tortoise-meets-Threads prowl and churn (“Balloon Spiders”); bottomless bass throbbing (“Pollination”); and backwards Kraftwerkisms (“Chattering Pylons”).

In giving such an impressive insight here into the roads left untravelled on his main COI albums thus far, Alex Cargill also shows that the enterprise has plenty of possibilities that are perhaps only limited by label capacity to deliver them to the world.

Also cranking up the collective workaholism rates is Everyday Dust, with an almost indecently hasty sequel to the vampiric strains of The Vale LP from a matter of months back. Released on thematic black and green splattered 10″ vinyl, the darkly alluring Black Water on Castles in Space only further encodes the enigma of its creator – who is still not willing to reveal his secret identity – by diving into the murky-watered depths of Loch Ness in sonic search of the monster of myth, legend and grainy monochrome photos.

Meticulously mixing together early-80s horror-flick tropes, Radiophonic Workshop sci-fi effects and classical minimalism, Black Water feels like a lost soundtrack to a knowingly over the top hunt-for-Nessie action film that never was. Over its ten short-ish pieces we’re taken through dank John Carpenter scene-setters (“The Black Loch” and “800ft Down 28ft Visibility”); mesmeric Steve Reich percussiveness (“Sonar Sweep”); fusions of Tangerine Dream and Terry Riley (“Subterranean Caves”); hints of the gloomiest gothic moments within vintage Doctor Who scores (“The Underwater Cathedral”); and nods to Brad Fiedel’s theme music for The Terminator (“The Chase”).

Whether Everyday Dust remains an anonymous enterprise matters little ultimately, particularly when the results are as dextrously drawn as they on the compelling Black Water.

Adrian
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