Broshuda returns on the newly born label Ballads Infinite with another array of absurdist vignettes, lowercase hi-tech ambience and textural degradations of radio transmissions from the bicameral mind. Weaving multiple sonic timelines into silky yet slippery articulations, he sculpts each sound with deliberate care making it breathe, slither and shimmer. Spells conjures a subterranean force through its vanishing presence, with the restraint in the sonic palette feeling utterly refreshing, as watering, drop by drop, a ghostly flower in the dromoscopic netscape of overreaching stimuli.

Deliriously patching fragments of unnoticed memories, gliding freely— slightly inebriated—through the ocean of sound: what does it take to capture the transitory entities inhabiting the latent space of this hyperconnected manifold? An assemblage of mechanical debris reduced to their bare-bone essentials; the Tao of discharge brings life to corrupted data, unpacked through textural ruminations.

Broshuda doesn’t just cast the spell, he patiently coils it around you, dissolving each and every thought in the hiss, manipulating subtle energies by making them move beyond and outward. What’s the sound of matter silently falling apart? The serpent sheds its subtle yet solid armor, revealing the space between each spire blooming with gentle eruptions of broken melodies. Where do we land now? What are we turning into? An ontological enigma still awaits to be solved.

Mastered by: Inner Lakes @ Tapewave Studio