Something like longing with unnatural momentum, or joy held at arm’s length. The textures of the sounds stretch and stutter, the rhythm always on the edge of unravelling, transmogrified. Vastness tempered by skin on skin animal touch, as though the blind earth is being described from far away, yet with unbearable closeness.

In its rises and ruptures is a kind of unspeaking, a cancerian undercurrent implied in every bassline, every reverb trail. Somewhere, a pulse emerges out of the noosphere; not quite euphoric, not quite nihilistic. I hope it carries you somewhere untouchable, but so real. 

nebula NGC 604

matistreet//emrys