Not Turning Off: Volume 26

An assemblage of electronically-framed fare from Field Lines Cartographer, Melodien, Kingston University Stylophone Orchestra and more

Although there is a tendency to think that calendar years can be precisely compartmentalised culturally, in reality things are never that tidy. This is even more so the case with the turn of this mid-winter, as quite a few releases arrived a little too late for coverage in 2021 – due to manufacturing and other logistical delays – but are still hungry for attention next to those straight out of the gate at the start of 2022. Hence, this first electronically-themed column of the year mops up benevolent sonic spillages behind, alongside and just ahead of their official appearances.

Although Polytechnic Youth MD Dom Martin took some convincing to steer some of his releases into CD editions due to ongoing vinyl production bottlenecks, it does no disservice to Transistor Memory, the debut album from Lone Bison, to find itself incarnated as a shiny 5” disc. Showcasing the one-man-in-his-living-room meldings of the Ramsgate-based Nick Bonell, the congregated baker’s dozen tracks slip soundly into the motorik-cleaving corners of the PY world.

Fusing live drums, guitars and vintage synths, within a loose and lively yet subtly finessed framework, the collection covers a lot of ground without feeling overloaded. Consequently, we are treated to Zuckerzeit-era Cluster-like miniatures (“Drugs” and “Cluster Truck”), dishevelled but affectionate nods to Neu! and La Düsseldorf (“Basecamp Cosmos” and “Oh Coastal”), diversions into the ecclesiastical ends of the Popol Vuh discography (“Power Corrupts”), inevitable salutes to early-Tangerine Dream (“Kindred”) and a joyous vocal-topped Silver Apples-meets-Clinic melodic chug mash-up (“Transistor Speed Sister”).

Even if the influences are obvious, the delivery comes with a litheness and freshness that belies formulaic pastiche. A welcome new branch on the PY family tree in short.

As a longer-serving signing in Dom Martin’s label empire catalogue (The Great Pop Supplement, Deep Distance and Polytechnic Youth) and as a prolific presence on Bandcamp, formerly as Melodie du Kronk and latterly as Melodien, Harry Sumnall’s oeuvre has been too easily taken for granted. Time to make amends then by properly celebrating his kaleidoscopic kosmische journeying on this latest LP, Monad.

Pretty much all the choice Melodien ingredients are here again and seamlessly stirred together with increased refinement. Across six vinyl cuts (and a further three tracks digitally), Sumnall’s knack for enveloping soundscapes and gliding grooves is expertly deployed once more. Stretching through space-age expanses with echoes of recent Eat Light Become Lights recordings (“Mendicant’s Parlour”), Steve Reich-meets-Michael Rother repetitions (“Moire” and “Life to Come”), Michael Bundt-infused astral fizz (“Dissolution” and “Litost”) and Listening Center-like bubbling (“Pharmakon” and “Universal Maximillion”), with seemingly effortless ease.

While there are more gripping long players in the Melodien catalogue that have an edge over it – such as 2015’s Theurgy or 2019’s Enantiodromia – Monad is still a richly rewarding addition to an undervalued body of work.

Having wowed us repeatedly throughout the duration of 2021, Woodford Halse opens up this year’s stuffed but no doubt shrewdly considered schedule with three robust releases respectively across CD, cassette and lathe-cut 7” vinyl.

Although Field Lines Cartographer (AKA Mark Burford) is already no stranger to sprawling electronic adventures, across a sizeable Polypores-rivalling work body of work, there is no half-measuring with Superclusters, his latest album.

Whilst on paper it might appear to plot all-too-familiar interstellar trajectories – as an epic collection that unabashedly swirls and ripples into overtly deep-space inspired sounds propelled by Arp, Moog and modular synths and tips of the hat to well-known mid-70s German music pioneers as well as 2001: A Space Odyssey – there is just something about the sheer galaxy-gazing grandeur of Superclusters that really hits the spot, which in turn also exults the undersung capacity and presentation possibilities of a carefully curated CD artifact.

Submerged in a more earthbound marine-based mindset is Red Setter’s equally enthralling Water Feature cassette/digital album, the progeny of Liverpool-based Ian Wilde.

Bringing bass, banjo and field recordings to a pre-existing synth set-up, showcased on two 2020 releases elsewhere, makes more for an arresting affair. It finds Wilde veering adroitly between early-A Certain Ratio-goes-kosmische fusions (“Summer Lightning”), early-Tortoise-meets-Robin Guthrie (“Meanders”), elemental ambient Brian Enoisms (“Deep in the Sea, Deep in my Heart”), Four Tet’s folktronica phase (“Boundary River”) and hypnotically looping found sounds mixed with glistening yet judding electronics (“Stock Ghyll Force”) along the way.

Yet another imaginative solitary craftsman to keep a close an eye on then.

Rounding out Woodford Halse’s January multi-format triumvirate is an utterly lovely lathe-cut 7” from Barry Smethurst’s affable Apta. Acting as an addendum but also a standalone companion to last year’s long players, the two closely gathered variations-on-a-theme pieces lean into the enterprise’s most electro-organic and most personal environs. Hence “Elegy” and close sibling “Lullaby” lushly gel together balmy modular synthesis with elegiac guitar lines, in ways that are both plaintive and uplifting.

Also tentatively branching out into the seven-inch realms is the steadily rising Waxing Crescent with Distinct Entities and Morphological Connections from Ty Lumnus. The brainchild of one Fraser Rowan, this micro-collection spreads two tracks on to the physical edition and an additional two on the digital counterpart, allowing the label’s distinctive Salvador Dali vs The Magic Roundabout artwork to be stretched on to a wider canvas for the former after previous cassette-only outings.

Under the hood of it all, we’re shifted through the shimmering beats of “This is Not My Current State”, the moody pulsations of “Pushed Beyond a Reality Explained”, the slow-motion cinematics of “Joseph is the Gel” and the ghosts-in-the-machine burbling serenity of “Stubborn to the Sun”. Although not offering anything radically new, Distinct Entities and Morphological Connections works out nicely as a charmingly conceived small bundle.

Whilst Castles in Space has a flotilla of brand new things coming into port over the coming months, The Flow Across Borders: The Remixes from Dohnavùr connects back into the heart of last year’s dockings. Less of a straightforward remix set just for dedicated aficionados, this seven-track suite navigates on its own terms, sailing along pleasingly without any unwelcome barnacles.

Thus, The Orb’s opening ethereal reorientation of “New Objectivity” (reprised from a previous remix 12” appearance) superbly paves the way for the likes of Concretism’s Protect & Survive rebuild of “The Kindness of Others”, Kieran Mahon’s deep-baked kosmische rekindling of “Sunk” and Pulselovers’ Dazzle Ships-dipped refashioning of “Five to Return”.

In fact, with no disrespect meant to the original Dohnavùr versions revisited within, this partial-refashioning of The Flow Across Borders is arguably a more consistently enjoyable affair than its slightly older relative.

While most of the above are pretty much all the results of solitary home-studio dabbling, Stylophonika from Kingston University Stylophone Orchestra is very much the opposite. Assembled by Dr Leah Kardos – with studio assistance from veteran producer Tony Visconti – and her students, using vintage Stylophones, theremin, Omnichord, Volca sequencers and combined voices, this beatific blend of iconic covers and impressive originals, unfurls as a near-magical otherworldly pleasure on the increasingly ambitious Spun out of Control.

Amongst the former we find Jean-Michel Jarre’s “Oxygene (Part 4)” replicated with remarkable and opulent reverence, Vangelis’s “Blade Runner (End Titles)” given a prowling stately reading and David Bowie’s “Space Oddity” floating in warming weightlessness. From the stock of pieces penned by members of the ensemble, we’re treated to the chorally swelling and percussively shuffling blissfulness of “Akoustiki”, the fuzzy analogue spookiness of “Brundle Beat” and the mournful elegance of “Olancha Goodbye (For Harold Budd)”.

Wrapped in a stunning retro sleeve from Eric Adrian Lee, Stylophonika feels very much like a lost and beguilingly esoteric time capsule outside and in. Grab a copy before it’s buried for only the benefit of future crate-diggers’ eureka moments.