One listen, and this one I was pretty satisfied with. There’s definitely room for improvement, and I think there are parts that would’ve led to far more interesting writing, but this turned out well enough.

Baraki’s “Rem” is from Colony Laspberry.

I hope you enjoy.

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Percussion prepares with a specific sounds, some longer than others. Only briefly, however. It’s all layers and it keeps layering. A pulse comes in, relentless. Then it seems some silence and voice. Then more percussion and some bass, really low. Seems to expand and compress in bits, then something else with a distorted plink plays a mysterious pattern.

Other bits and pieces here and there create shape and texture, and the sense of intention and connection starts expanding. The sounds are distinct, but they almost extend from each other. All the while an undercurrent of coldness comes through. A cold like machinery, though there seems to warmth, too.

There’s now a little more space and everything is precise and patient, and something rises up suddenly and fades away, or rather, fades into the background… almost. It’s not quite in the background and not quite in the foreground. It exists where it exists, and it feels organically off, and then disappears when it needs to.

The sound of voice cut up and echoing comes in, though it could just be a non-voice sound that feels like a voice, and as sounds disappear it comes more forward and it seems to sway and dance, and bring in another world. It brings in another world into this space, and that new world seems to look to align with what is here, but it feels at odds. It feels at odds, but it keeps trying. It keeps working, and other things come in as blurs and flashes, and maybe everything is folding in on the space, transforming it into something else entirely.

The space seems stressed, but relaxed at the same time. The sounds relentless in their shifting and moving and coming and going, and in a state of stillness, and everything starts disappearing, fading away, and the song ends.