Search:spacecraft project

The moons of Saturn are the inspiration for this brooding, often soaring and searching odyssey of dark electronica.

The second largest planet in the solar system after Jupiter, and the sixth planet from the sun, Saturn is orbited by 53 confirmed moons, with another 29 that are unnamed and still being studied.

Saturnian is a suite of thirteen choral tracks taking their names from some of Saturn's known moons; Dione, Daphnis, Phoebe, Prometheus, Rhea, Janus, Titan, Enceladus, Tethys, Telesto, Mimas, Hyperion and Iapetus, all named after figures from Greek and Roman mythology, each loaded with their own turbulent back stories. It is the debut release by Holmes + atten Ash, written, recorded and produced remotely in Edinburgh and Bristol by the duo Simon Holmes and Paul Nash.

Their project began during the 2020 lockdown. For Simon, time was spent exploring the Pentland Hills south of Edinburgh. For Paul, the Mendip Hills, south of Bristol. Both would experience the darker side of our human impact on the environment. Simon observed the wilderness as a wasteland, finding discarded, rusting metal littering the Pentland Hills while Paul witnessed the decimation of the ancient woodland of the Mendips' King's Wood due to the destructive tree fungus ash dieback.

These field trips fuelled a desire to navigate not just the landscape, but the duo's emotional place within it. Their collaboration led to a concept album that explores the outer reaches of the solar system, while simultaneously grounding them in a specific place. Looking inwards as much as outwards, theycreated soundscapes based on deeply imagined and felt connections to their surroundings.

After Simon had created a choral piece to accompany Luke Jerram's enormous, world touring artwork Museum of the Moon, Saturnian was a natural progression. When Simon was sent an initial score for the ethereal track Enceladus, composed by Paul in Bristol, he added choral arrangements recorded in Edinburgh. Their shimmering, tense opus continued to evolve from there. Just as the discarded bed springs and abandoned car parts that Simon stumbled upon in the Pentland Hills seemed to him at once "horrible but also oddly beautiful", Saturnian melds together melancholy and levity, fusing moments of dark angst with a celestial calm.

Opening with the glistening, hopeful brightness of Dione, increasingly urgent rhythms give way to digital, otherworldly calls from what might be rainforest creatures chirping into life with robotic squawks and delicate keyboard lines on Phoebe, followed by slowed down, monastic song on Rhea. Tethys is a hypnotic blur of synthesiser and soft chanting, while Rhea is a mysterious, echoing chasm, lifted by melodic, gentle male vocals. Janus has a glowing, effervescent energy, swiftly followed by a sense of tension on Titan, which throbs with driving percussive unease.

The album artwork is a pencil drawing created by Edinburgh artist Simon Kirby. It was made by a robot drawing machine, using custom algorithms that bring to life recordings of the sound of magnetic waves near Saturn's icy moon, Enceladus. The lines in the centre of the drawing are distorted by sound captured by the Cassini spacecraft which studied Saturn for over a decade.

Much like Saturn and its frozen, rocky moons, this debut album from Holmes + atten Ash is mysterious and beguiling, with a hint of foreboding in the depths of its powerful beauty and epic scale.

"BLUNTS ROLLED" GSF13 the first posthumous release of unheard music by RAS-G'. Eighteen raw transmissions: unreleased beats, remixes, loops & smoky spacecraft meditations arranged in true mixtape spirit exactly as RAS envisioned them. This isn’t a vault dump, it's RAS_G in full form - unfiltered, joyful, psychedelic & rooted in the low end theory.
"BLUNTS ROLLED" continues the ASP mission: connecting hood to heaven, ancient to future, earthly to astral. These sounds crackle with cosmic dust & Cali sunshine - grounded in LA soil, projected into Saturn’s rings. Featuring transmissions from ASP family Kahil Sadiq, The Koreatown Oddity, Zeroh, and even G himself... voices and energies orbiting each other in intimate, galaxy-folding, head-nodding, fronto-scented universes.

Martin had been a surprise choice for the commission.

It was the Spring of 1977 and two Interstellar Mariners were to be sent hurtling into deep space. Glass was to provide weekly "sonologues" of their progress, audio diarist for a pair of mute mechanical adventurers.

Delivered with a near fanatical diligence over the course of nearly three decades, these stuttering musical biographies would soon bewilder those who had first asked for them.

Martin's work, they judged, had begun to plot its own eccentric orbit, charting more than just the ships' material progress, but rather their imagined psychogeography ("What will they say about me?" "I will never conserve my instruments" "Nobody has gone further").

With his sonic dispatches increasingly ignored and unheard, all funding for the project swiftly fell to dust.

The very best of these scores, chosen from a vast compendium of source material, are now assembled here for the first time. Their muses, two arthritic spacecrafts now nearly half a century old, limp on through deep space, forever onwards and onwards forever...

Epic, grooving, dazzlingly creative, perfectly attuned blends of complex mbalax drumming, field recordings, thumping kick-drum, and cosmic, bubbling, jamming synths and electronics.

The opening is suitably liminal, haunted by a diachronic sense of times past, present, and to come: ancestral ghosts, scratched playback, scraps of old recordings, voices strangulated or just out of range; puttering drums; futuristic, kosmische keys. Part II picks up the pace; III gives the drummers some, and heightens the atmosphere of enchantment. Jon Hassell’s Fourth World music courses through a kind of Dream Theory In Dakar.

Toco SOS, the second side, is a thumping, throbbing, mesmeric future-classic; perfect for fahr’n fahr’n fahr’n on the Autobahn… in a spacecraft. Expert hand percussion, call-and-response singing, bin-trembling foot-drum, spaceways keys. Sleekly funky as prime Popol Vuh.

Both sides range expansively by way of Berlin, where Lamin resided for a few years: you can hear something of T++’s brilliant, landmark HJ record on the A, and elements of Mark Ernestus’ crucial Ndagga project, on the B.

Half an hour of stunning music; in a beautiful sleeve, with mirror lettering, and an intricate spot-gloss rendition of salt crystals, laid over a photograph of the salt mines at Lac Rose, outside Dakar.