28912 Novedades

New from Ulla’s 28912 label comes a gorgeous bouquet of lowercase wonders from Justin Cantrell aka J and the Woolen Stars, part of Picnic, and the brains behind the excellent Daisart and se Dessaisir Publishing labels.

»Puff« is a glistening pool of lush refractions and music-box lullabies, featuring an array of acoustic instruments and fragile foley sounds that are gently peeled away until all we’re left with are the faded outlines of half-remembered songs.

A sound that roots itself in the prophetic machinations of artists like Fennesz and the languid Japanese minimalism of Fourcolour or Moskitoo, »Puff« strikes a delicate balance, sounding as bewitchingly informal as a Tenniscoats set, but also consistently muddling the perception of high and low-brow sound. Cantrell’s skill lies in a sort of sonic conjuration, bamboozling the brains of those of us who grew up listening to stepped-on audio via ramshackle RealMedia streams by alchemising the content, turning found sound into gold. Just tell us you don’t get chills from hearing the bitrate-impaired acoustic guitar on »Dirty like an angel«, set against a backdrop of windy, harmonic detritus. It’s both meticulously contrived and gloriously off-the-cuff, like one of Vincent Gallo’s classic »When«-era demos reduced down to 96kbps.

Similarly, »She knows just what to say« provokes faint memories of folk music, with impromptu fiddle parts gently steamrolled to create a sound that’s nothing short of exquisite, like pressed flowers rediscovered in an old, discarded book. Even the more palpably electronic elements are hand sculpted in a way that belies the era we’re living in - it’s music for a digital age that sounds oddly unplugged, flawed and human. An unmistakably lovely antidote to the opiating nostalgia of our time.

Groggy, engrossing new work from Ulla under their newly minted U.e. tag, riffing to the sublime on a set of (mostly) acoustic reveries that tap into the kind of smokey vapours favoured by the likes of Vincent Gallo, Voice Actor, Jonnine.

A new year, label, album and handle for Ulla, a multifaceted artist who has draped our pages with wonder, under numerous aliases and collabs, for almost a decade. On ‘Hometown Girl’ they distill transience and flux into a quiet set of chamber works subtly resembling the room recorded nuance of their ‘Jazz Plates’ side with Perila - here taken a step further into more elusive, low-lit dimensions.

In a mode that’s wistful and melancholic, listening to the album’s dozen discrete pieces feels like leafing thru a journal of hand-written notes, reflecting on the feelings that come with separation from loved ones and displacement from familiarity. Ulla performed and recorded all of the instruments themselves, lending a tangible tactility to layered arrangements of woodwind, keys, strings, drums and voice, lightly speckled with electronics and perfused with open window field recordings.

They locate a crackling frisson of personality in the voice notes and day-dreaminess of their mottled inscapes, gauzily demarcating lines between past and present selves. In that aesthetic and approach we can also hear similarities to Jonnine’s blue-skied ‘Southside Girl’ or crys cole’s poetic sensuality, often leaning into the domestic surreal.

A frayed, opening salutation ‘Good Morning’ signals a delirious half hour in Ulla’s company, variously swaying to the downstroked jazz swing of a ‘Lavender (NF)’ spritzed with clarinet, whilst ‘Froggy Explorer’ stirs the air like Jan Jelinek on a barely-there tip. The Basinski-esque fritz of degraded loops really snags the imagination along with a twinkling nightlight ‘Ball’, as the album opens out into its most fully resolved songs with a closing couplet of disarming wonders ‘Drawing of Me’, and a blurry ‘Mute’ that feels like Ulla 〜almost〜 reveals too much before retreating back into the shadows.

naemi follows last year’s excellent Erika de Casier-starring »Dust Devil« with a genius new album of ultra-catchy, perfectly executed shoegaze diamonds, powered by Ulla on drums and additional vox, flutes and extra vocals by Baptist Goth, and fuzz guitar by Kouhei.

»Breathless Shorn« is the Berlin-based Kansas-born producer's most compelling move thus far, featuring 11 perfectly fuzzed songs that almost completely shake off any electronic remnants in favour of a light-touched act of MBV worship. naemi has long nurtured an obsession with vintage dreampop and shoegaze, but until now they mostly blurred those influences with dubby ambience and delicate, heart-slicing production. On »Breathless Shorn« they completely re-draw their outlines, bristling with a much looser energy in a mode that feels like a big step up - more impactful, full of easy swagger and a bona fide emotional resonance.

Distorted, tremolo-bent guitars, boxy drums, electric bass and delirious multi-tracked vocals are the backbone here, mostly sounding like they could have been lifted off Kevin Shields' »Ecstasy and Wine« sessions. naemi's attention to detail is remarkable; no longer leaning on electronic masking or the influence of '90s British slacker rawk or twee pop, instead deploying the genuine article, with ambient music left as just a faint note wafting in the background.