Intoxicating atmospheres and unpredictable rhythms mixed by @ubinas and @Ankubu

Lorica Tracklist:
Bizzy Banks – Intro 
Christina Vantzou – Lair 10 
Carns Hill – She Don't (feat. Papi, Stampface & Zn) RV & Headie One – Me and My 
Fennesz & Ryuichi Sakamoto – haru 
KMRU – Solace 
Unknown T – Leave Dat Trap (feat. AJ Tracey) Kamil Dossar – scan the moment 
K-Trap – Pour It Up (feat. M1llionz) 
Lorica – Aporia (Excerpt) 
Arca – Madre Acapella 
Loski – Blinded (feat. Mike Skinner) 
Kenji – ultimate green dakara 
M.E.S.H. – Infosk Stitial 
Lorica – Doxa (Excerpt) 
Clouds – Clearance 
FRKTL – Peak Experience 
F&E – Gravity 5 
Smoke Boys – Section 6ixty (feat. 67) 
Slowdive – I Saw the Sun (BFTT's 2020 3am Regression Mix) Vanessa Amara – Leopards, Pt. 4 
KhalilH2OP – Nikki's Afraid of Flying 
Lorica – Doxa (Excerpt) 
Clouds – Am Fonn Mòr 
K-Trap – The Re–Up 2 
22Gz – Careers 
mu tate – Oute

Ankubu Tracklist:
Vit Fana - Sänkt 
Scorn - Elephant 
The Empire Line - Fragrance Arpège 
SHXCXCHCXSH - SHUMUMUMU 
Schism - Decoy 
Lanark Artefax - All That is Solid Melts into Air 
The Haxan Cloak - Consumed 
Vit Fana - Svärm 
King Midas Sound - You Disappear 
Jak3 - 2 Fake (feat. Moistbread) 
Planning For Burial - Still Dream 
Flame 1 - Rain 
Hydra Mane - Devilish Verses 
Pris - Intervention 
LXV - Mihal Drop Scene 
WIFE - Glass Interruption 
Vit Fana - Svärm 
CALSUTMORAN X AGNARKEA - Bridge To Gnarnia 
Paul Jebanasam - search another 3Hφ˙ = lose you i), place i=0 doubt I V (φ) SHXCXCHCXSH - OUFOUFOF 
Scorn - Stealth 
Puce Mary - Dissolve 
Ca2+ - Lure Protusion 
Fis - CE Visions 
Kai Whiston - Icarus (feat. BUCHANAN) 
Lanark Artefax - Voices Near The Hypocentre 
Deison And Mingle - Nessun Desiderio (Decimaction) 
Moa Pillar - Birth Date 
LXV - Pripyat (Paper Crown) 
M.E.S.H. - Damaged Merc 
Kode9 & The Spaceape - Sine 
CURSED - Rebound feat. Stony 
Tim Hecker - Prism 
Counterstrike - Draco VIP 
Lundin Oil - Board Meeting 
Flame 1 - Shrine 
Bliss Signal - Bliss Signal 
Roly Porter - 4101

Under My Feet. Beyond Sound w/ Lorica & Ankubu

Have you ever dreamed of watching a particle collider in reverse slow motion, observing how the particles gravitate back into structure in perfect trajectories?. Leaving the distinct impression these particles were guided by a cold and calculating intellect moving these particles with both temper and control. Leaving the listener with the notion this is how it works, this is how it is meant to be. 
The narrative is dense, at times unfolds in frightening spaces and abstractions full of explosive surprises, only to break down obstacles and threats and put a beautiful stellar surface on display. 
The artisan work of putting this narrative together is done by label newcomer Ankubu, and we welcome his talent wholeheartedly.

Release date - 1.9.2022

Ankubu - Flare Sign : Engage

Become one with the mix until madness consumes you.

Insanity

CALSUTMORAN X AGNARKEA - BRIDGE TO GNARNIA

[ GHOST CITY COLLECTIVE _ SPECTRAL SIGNS _ 08 ]
> HOLY SIMILAUN_SPECULATIVE EXECUTION /

[ Follow Holy Similaun ]
@holysimilaun
facebook.com/holysimilaun
instagram.com/holysimilaun
https://holysimilaun.bandcamp.com

[ Follow the ghosts ]
www.facebook.com/weareghostcity/ | https://ghostcity.bandcamp.com/

[ artwork > L V N A > https://www.facebook.com/ihavenoluna/?ref=bookmarks ]

HOLY SIMILAUN_SPECULATIVE EXECUTION_[ spectral 08 ]

Passive Aggressive (Feroce)

MEMORY RAM MUM

This episode introduces the character HeLa* who talks about being a valet in a hyperpolar world of states and non-states. HeLa's corrupted memory tries to make sense of the fragments left afloat.

Sexuality, a program through which all HeLa's senses are declared, is restarted. It loads physical and digital data to set off HeLa on a mission, maneuvering The System, sorcery & the struggle. 
*HeLa (/ˈheɪlɑː/; also Hela or hela) is an immortal cellline used in scientific research. It is the oldest and most commonly used human cell line. The line was derived from cervical cancer cells STOLEN on February 8, from the African American Henrietta Lacks, a patient who died of cancer on October 4, 1951 and whose family has never been compensated for the use of her cells which until this day generate millions of dollars for the pharmaceutical industry.


----------------------------------
TRANSCRIPT

Black bean tooth in the mouth of the wealthy fool. Emotional labor sold for food. It's like that here, in the land of no horizon, deleted genealogies. My ancestry adrift in the darkweb of my hybrid existence.

It's raining now. The soil smells fresh, Pig party in the other side. Is mother here? I ask knowing my mothers are all merged into my monolithic memory.
Today I'm not going out. I've got a bag of black beans and coarse salt. Pemba dust still sprinkled on my floor.


Memory. RAM. Mom. My memory won't tell much. Countryside anonymous histories with a dead end dwell my RAM. My roots pulled and scattered around intricately so I could never trace them back. It's a random access. My memory. The allegories I have created talk to me. Are they my past? Or dots of light, little beings from afar, from my future collecting information as they shoot their way through all things digital & physical.

I'm HeLa, a valet of the future, in a world of neo- feudalism. A hyper-polar world of nation-states and non-states actors. I am what they call a 'nomadistic', sadistically moving around, looking for a place, A place where I don't need to sign papers, to omit, or to die when I reveal. Because some things I just can't hide.


A Valet: an employee performing personal services for my only customer. Neo-feudalism.

An update or is it degrade of policies really... I live in a high-tech feudalist society where I'm pushed down. I haven't got a stitch to wear or one single bitcoin to buy bread. I move around a lot whether they allow me or not.

It's this controlled destabilization which makes an extreme state of misery feel normal. A stable destabilization graphic heading gently towards the worst. Because there's no end, you know? It's all to stable here, but it's not really.

Eyes on the road outside as I lay down. It's bass therapy day. I'm a person with a womb. My womb speaks to me in sync with the vibration exploding from the portable speaker. I hold it gently against my body and look at my bedroom. At my existence. The sunlight invades my room and I love it. Enough darkness foes inside my head to refuse such manifestation of life. Such foreplay offered by this tiny universe I navigate.

BASS. DRONE. NOISE. PERPETUAL entice me in peace. My senses become alert. Bananas ripe on the table. my toes can feel them all. My menstrual blood cup, clean and stained rests on a white flower.

The womb pulsing. My bartholin's glands lubricate me slowly. Harsh noise enters me gently through the cunt. Through that one power door our body has created. Whatever and however. Specially for us uniquely.

The whole body vibrates from head to toes. Vision, hearing, smell, taste, touch. All mixed in one.

One drop of cum. 
ONE DROP OF CUM. 

My ID. My personal settings. My index. My algorithm. I'm complete.

https://archive.org/details/CountrySideDataGrassPILOT

CountrySide _Data_Grass

SLVMIX093 - Hålbå

Check this out: https://ghostcity.bandcamp.com/album/ritual

In conversation with the machine ("Ritual" by SHE/MACHINE)

🌍
Sometimes I think the weekend attitude has disappeared even before this pandemic emergency, all we have left is order food, watch another TV series and rearrange our lives in pursuit of extreme productivity.
If governments have forgotten that creativity and relationships are needed more than productivity and that productivity is just a humble servant of relationship, I don't want to forget the importance of being together, of celebrating, of loud music. .
In my small way, I made this fast track because the only unattainable speed must be only that of the music while dancing and not in lifein the race for production and consumption.
Remembering that we still are and can be still weekenders
.
.
🇮🇹
A volte mi convinco che il nostro atteggiamento nei confronti del weekend si sia modificato ancor prima di questa emergenza pandemica. Sembra che tutto ciò che ci resta è ordinare cibo, guardare un'altra serie TV e riorganizzare le nostre vite alla ricerca di mantenere alta la nostra produttività
Se i governi hanno dimenticato che la creatività e le relazioni sono necessarie più della produzione e che quest'ultima è solo un umile servitore delle relazioni umano, io non voglio dimenticare l'importanza dello stare insieme, della celebrazione, della festa, della musica ad alto volume. .
Nel mio piccolo ho fatto questa traccia molto molto veloce perché l'unica velocità irraggiungibile deve essere, secondo me, solo quella della musica mentre si balla e non nella vita nella corsa frenetica alla produzione ed al consumo.
Ricordandoci così che siamo e possiamo essere ancora dei weekender.

HOLY SIMILAUN_SPECULATIVE EXECUTION_[ spectral 08 ]

Ghost City Collective

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