Name: Zampogna Glassata by Triple Heater by f.ampism
Duration: 3 min 50 s
Description: Triple Heater is a duo (Ezio Piermattei/F.Ampism)This track is from forthcoming cassette on Tutore Burlato

This is our punk rock https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fJSw5A68GVE

flora script on norns, via midi to deluge and kit track

Two Plants In Rain

from Collected Works Vol. 2 - New Process Music

The Last Time We Were Here

Triple Heater is a duo (Ezio Piermattei/F.Ampism)This track is from forthcoming cassette on Tutore Burlato

Zampogna Glassata by Triple Heater

Order here:
https://www.juno.co.uk/products/matthewdavids-mindflight-holovr-schleissen-6/668593-01/

Emotional Response continues the second SchleiBen series with a pan-ocean exploration of meditative spiritualism meets psychedelic ambience. 

The 2nd of the 4 part series expands with the inclusive offerings from LA's Matthewdavid and London's HOLOVR for a cyclical journey of altered consciousness against lush 303-tinged harmonics. 

First, Matthewdavid provides a 20-minute live recording to showcase his "meditation with music". Beat maker, producer, label owner, radio host and now new age explorer, Matthew David McQueen has been a fixture of the City Of Angles music scene for over a decade. However, it was his association with Tropical Hi-Fi (SchleiBen 3) that first attracted the label's attention to dig deeper in to his developing sound. 

As Leaving Records founder he has a prominent role is shaping the cities sound that has seen him work with Sun Araw, Laraaji and a myriad of the label's roster. Here performing in most his recent incarnation, Matthewdavid's Mindflight - having just released the wonderful Trust The Guide And Glide double album opus - is Sonos. 

Recorded live at Dublab Radio's "Tonalism" event at Sonos Studios, the piece utilises Critter & Guitari Pocket Piano, Hulusi Flute and Ableton Live to create movement, fade and sequence. A looping realisation, music inside music, thresholds expanded, connecting the centre, a place, origin, a soul that allows a devout expression to exude and find mediation in sound. This is music to get lost and at the same, get found in. 

Set against these endless arp-loops, is HOLOVR, raising a more focused consciousness that is a perfect counterpoint. Having already appeared on the label via his recent, deep, eloquent remix of Sad City, as well as releasing with label favourites Opal Tapes, Further Records and Firecracker, the desire to work with another uniquely individual producer has been in place for several years. 

Recorded using only hardware; 303 lines, soft pads, arpeggio synths and Roland percussion capture a snapshot of time in a natural, in-the-moment negotiation of these different elements, giving trademark, open, drifting loops that let the listener within, while texture and tone engage, activating harmonic resonances almost as a drone. This progressive disintegration, tuning in and dropping out of musical spheres envelops while hinting at aphex influences and (artificial) intelligence.

SchleiBen shifts, expanding, growing, pulsating. Keep the faith and (un)listen.

A. Matthewdavid's Mindflight - Sonos

teenage engineering op-1 feeding monome norns with sounds
playing around with the magical script "cranes" by dan derks

https://llllllll.co/t/cranes/21207

Cranes

Radio Concrete 1 - 30 Minutes version

been a while since ive shared new music from the Mindflight realm, so here's a nice & warm demo from a longer piece im working on for the next proper Mindflight album - this was recorded last month in my bedroom in NE Los Angeles. -MD

process:
q-chord  --> norns mlr script --> norns glut script --> boss phase shifter pedal --> boss analog delay pedal

Waldorfian Glide (demo)

Touchtheplants Presents: BIG LUNCH

Visual artist Rob Moss Wilson reads his poems for us, while accompanied by an original soundtrack from electronic musician Cool Maritime.

A union of spoken-word and ambient soundscapes that weds Cool Maritime’s bubbly, revitalizing synth work to Wilson’s emotionally honest, casually profound observations.

Big Lunch feels like a hike in the company of a wise and humorous friend who has special access to his own heart and mind, the contents of which he is able to spin into everyday proverbs as we wind up the path by his side.

Realized as a limited-run audio-visual box set with cassette and book.

Pre-Orders Now / Available Worldwide on May 8th
www.touchtheplants.com
www.coolmaritime.org
www.robmosswilson.com

02 Prominent Geological Formations

@hlm38
@nottebrigante

The Eternal Temple Of Urban Vexation Tale by Damien Knightley and @ventralisgolden

Read more Damien's Tales From The ID:

https://contacttalesfromth.wixsite.com/mysite

Artwork: Ventral Is Golden
https://www.instagram.com/ventralisgolden

I’d been waiting here for days, taxi rank, pneumatic drill, totem in hand, swipe swipe swipe, home-screen, nothing. Taxi summoned like a rain god, but again nothing. Then the dull exhale of a worn-out saxophone took its last breath before the distant rumble of a burning race-car skidded across the nearest rain cloud and into a round of applause.

The taxi hovers above me. 

“You look a little shot up” He shouted over the radio and the rumbling of tachyons as the engine cooled. “Maybe even a little Rubix-cubed?” 
I open the taxi door and climb up.  “You’re not the one I was expecting” I replied. He glances wryly at me through the rearview mirror as he speaks. “Have you ever seen me before?”
“No” I answer. 
“Then how do you know it’s not me?”. He paused briefly for a deep breath. 
“My friend, you must remember that life is an endless cavalcade of overwhelming asphyxiation, but occasionally it is interspersed with bursts of ecstasy. Why is that?”

Spiral galaxies beamed through the concrete cracks of the balconies as he turned the ignition. His mind already on the journey and my answer to his question already in the distant parts of where our conversation began. 

The radio crackles.

“Before you do anything of worth you must first remember that in the morning the vultures will always clear their throats.” 

We veer sharply, away from the city. The skyscrapers look smaller now but are constellated against a foggy backdrop of the city. My shadow in a shapeless heap on the floor below, where it will wait for my return.

We drive through remnants of supernova markets dispersing through the Van Allen Belt like shopping trollies caught in an endless stream, and the fabled fleshpots of the red dwarf districts, with their facades of Unequaled Phantasm, Oracle Delights, The Primordial Orbital, and The Big Dog. 
I felt like I’d seen these broken streets before in more familiar dimensions. I leaned forward between the torn, fake leather seats and asked the driver, “Were these places once local?”. 
Without turning to face me, the third eye fixed on the vast expanse, he replied. “Everything here is non-local and always will be. The real question is, were these places inevitable?

I flop back and look out of the window at gathering star-clouds and specters of ectoplasmic cosmonauts. I watch as a rip-tide in the vacuum brushes them aside like crumbs into the dustpan of infinity. I believed we were Capricornus, that our thoughts stretched out for light-years. 

“Now that the veil has lifted, you may be surprised to discover that you are no longer a deity.” 

I find my thoughts turning to long-gone feathered fancies. These dusty dramas. I had buried them deep within the sands from where the phone booths flickered like lost phosphorescent chapels. Their faint light echoing through synaptic smog patches in a tapestry of meandering messages that clogged the sky. I wanted syllables of an ancient language. But I knew these sounds, although their light obscured my vision, the images they contained burned like suns in the empty night. 

Silently and as quick as a reflex, I took the tiny totem buddha from my pocket and placed it on the dashboard. The taxi stopping almost instantly to a hover.
“I’ll get out here,” I said. 

My shadow had returned to kindly open my door. I stepped outside and wore it like an old coat I’d once found on this street. I checked the pockets to find a note I had written to myself.

‘Together, at last, holding hands, waiting forever for nothing to happen.’

HLM38 - AMATEUR EXOTIC'S ETERNAL TEMPLE OF URBAN VEXATION

@koyil

Artwork: Omnicollage
https://www.instagram.com/omnicollage

I walked along the deserted streets of the ancient city, making my way closer and closer to its heart, embodied in the image of a huge mountain, on which, reminiscent of the Sacre Coeur from distance, majestically towered a temple...Yesterday it was a modern metropolis of glass, steel, and concrete, now, half of the city was destroyed...
Everything that formed the images of the broadcast space disappeared, leaving only the echoes of those who inhabited, created, and believed in the inviolability of millennial truths...But as before, the thread of fate did not leave me, even when the world disappeared into its mirror image - it cracked and crumbled into millions of grains of sand softly crunching underfoot...Wonder why it was I who was confronted with this mystery, the answer to which, by all senses, was waiting in this temple, soaring at the level of heaven...
Climbing this mountain, each step lifted a heap of images from the bottom, which seemed to have drowned forever in the ruthless ocean of memory...And the gaze cut them off as more unnecessary, outdated patterns...

I had never seen such an impressive structure before: countless statues of deities and creatures of different worlds adorned the walls, white steps of marble ascended with sparkling waves to the ledges of ancient columns supporting the Gothic arches...
The porch separating the worlds was passed and I ended up in a huge hall with a small pedestal in the center with the shape of a pyramid, similar to the one built by Maya and the Aztec...I can’t say for sure, but it seems that all this symbolized the structure of the universe...
In silence came the sound of a singing bowl wrought by craftsmen in secluded workshops, somewhere at the Tibetian lands, protected by Avalokiteshvar...This created a kind of contrast, dividing light and darkness, giving them clearly defined boundaries...The cry of a bird, low, like a tanpur, encircles the horizon...Something is and nothing is...Goosebumps ran and it looked like they meant synchronizing all possible phenomenas...Gradually, with the attenuation of the bowl's sound signal, exponentially, the rising light begins to permeate the structure of all objects that become slightly illuminated from the inside, and in the end, everything turns into flaming crystals...At this point, I realized that the balance between opposing principles allows to ignite the fire of transformation in the space of dark night...

Vital energy, as if the mighty Ganga fell on me, helping to realize everything as it is...Now, with this upward flow, I became the axis of the world and realized that it was a dilapidated city - it symbolized a loss of balance, and I came to this temple because I wanted changes...And now, being in the middle of my Will, at rest, internal connections and interactions, previously unknown to me, opened their gates and showed the importance of what is called the balance between light and darkness, good and evil, sound and silence, oneself and others, between states and ways of experiencing them...Now i feel free...

Zampogna Glassata by Triple Heater

f.ampism

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