Dogpatrol
SNKRX04

RITUALS by Flore

Tagliabue’s cosmic music is a transcendental journey through introspection and imagination. The latter has no limits, when stimulated by sounds that slowly shade and snake deeply in the listener’s conscious.With “Ambiente Sonoro” the Milan based DJ and producer now introduces his debut mini-album. The concept is inspired by the Italian library music of the 70s from Daniela Casa, Egisto Macchi and Piero Umiliani, characterized by the extensive use of electronic, experimental and psychedelic sounds. It is arranged and produced in a contemporary way, alternating dark ambient, tribalistic sounds mixed with abstract electronic and IDM influences from artists such as Biosphere, Higher Intelligence Agency, Global Communication or Coil.His experience as a music selector and his previous works anticipate the character of this concept album. A record that cannot be placed in a specific genre.Ancestral rhythms, post-industrial waves, apocalyptic chants and drones, suggest a mental projection into a new planetary system consisting of six bodies with different landscapes kept in orbit by a cosmic sound perturbation. A dreamy state of emotional, protracted and reflective abandonment.

Locked in a 486 glow, lightblink machines nightlight, being enters lighttime limelight. The long nineties already distending, the Major midbloats, crowds throng superclubs- strobelit honeys on a podium in Ibiza already blasted a stratosphere away from mildewed badflats, emphysemic parlours, the fug of week old washing drying slowly on the rad. Ach we’ll hang it out in the morning fire another joint of badhash and turn that tape over. We are being Here. beings disconnected, shut ins, psychick worriers, long walks to and from clubs, mostly dark, always raining, or mizzling anyway, lug bigbrick machines into cabs and Venue, setup and playing live and right now from the lounge lobby at Sativa, down the stairs from the caustic, twitching thrashpit being sits, being works. Dole sludge, shirking class zeroes, scoff pizza rolls w salad cream, that headchef gaffer never reckoned you’d graft at the potwash, a slick fur of rotfood dish slop residue right to the elbow, absolutely bowfin. Rumours of other places, people, scenes, tapes sent and emissaries return, invites to get trains, overnightbus south to London. being brought water to the ‘wells in South London and monthly emissions snaked out into the world, into badflats elsewhere where gowched couch tatties sprawl and the being burrowed deep into memories.. Tea is toast and sandwich spread and endless crisps as the binbags pile high in the backyard, the being blinks, it’s a twilit morning and it’s time to go to bed.

2021 repress on black vinyl, first released in only 50 copies in the legendary Bunker Mantra Box, but now for a short time available to the general public. Dark and manic house from the Acid Coloniae of Cologne, by Andreas Gehm (aka The Minister), whos profile has been raised recently with a ton of hyped releases and remixes for o.a. Snuff Traxx & Robert Ownes. Second part of a two parter.