zero gravity tea ceremony

As to the excellently named Zero Gravity Tea Ceremony, well these folk prefer to keep things pretty mysterious, their band camp site laid out in black means that you have run the cursor around various parts to highlight the information, their latest opus titled ‘.’ by the looks of things, features just one track, apparently untitled and sounding, unless our ears do deceive, like something that’s emerged from the primordial drone soup which by rights ought to appeal to all those once upon a time, sonically fixated by the sounds emanating from the short lived Oggum imprint back in the day i.e. Alphane Moon, the Spires of Oxford and Our Glassie Azoth with a side serving of Hood for good measure.–14

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shit creek

You can sample more of the delights of Shit Creek courtesy of a recently released CD simply titled ‘volume 2’. Packed with strange little subterranean oddities from this Bristolian work bench, we here have found ourselves somewhat taken by the mellowing trippiness of ‘Andrew Jackson enters into hell’ – an eerily dream like fantasia comprised of looped motifs within which an airless nothingness of chamber symphonic apparitions and the seafaring lull of flutter by flotillas craft out something of a foggy enchantment, quite beautifully serene all said.

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Incoming on the shy eyed liquid library imprint of Bristol, a quite special three-way split entitled ‘embertide’ that gathers together the becoming talents of Tremolo Ghosts, Zero Gravity Tea Ceremony and Shit Creek. Seven tracks within, one from Zero Gravity, two from Tremolo with the rest left for Shit Creek to wow. Three tracks feature on the preview listen, a track apiece from all opening with ‘blood fog’- this serenely breezed visitation comes gorgeously ghosted in a reflective sorrow which to these ears, amid its seafaring lo-fi lull hints of something deceptively mercurial that’s sweetly soured in the essences of Tex La Homa and Lupen Crook. Next up ‘emberr’ by Zero Gravity Tea Ceremony who I must admit, might in time prove to be one of our favourite listening pastimes if this is anything to judge by, strictly speaking we’d have been none too surprised had this been sneaked out on the Ecstatic Peace imprint, certainly something for the Terrascope folk to take an interest in, very dream drifted Flying Saucer Attack like and one for all you old school Kranky purists. Now I’ve n issue with Shit Creek in so far as, well let’s try putting it this way, a band name often hints and indeed realises a perceived sound even before you’ve heard a single note, you tend to get the measure of a band / artist. Now with Shit Creek we were expecting all manner of impish hijinks perhaps even extending to something appreciably unlistenable. Not so, for ‘Cymbeline’ appears to trace a trajectory, that had you not known better, would have rightly assumed was the craft of the Astral Social Club in one of their more blissful moments, this shimmering orb hiccupping radiantly sweetly degrading in the heat of solar burns leaving in its wake wistful vapour trails of hushed love notes.

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robyn hitchcock

latest moving picture show from the legendary Robyn Hitchcock is a bit of kooky visual treat that finds the Hitch’s spiritual inner self – here revealed as a one-eyed cat, in actual fact a guest appearance for his feline pal Tubby – emerging out of his slumber. Peeled from last year’s acclaimed self-titled set for Yep Roc, ‘Autumn Sunglasses’ is touchingly weaved in a sweetly melancholic phrasing, while surface wise mourning the passing summer, there’s a deeper close intimacy stirring here that’s ghosted in a fading nostalgia that’s drizzled in fond reflection as though snapshots of life’s moments on quick rewind. The sounds typically cooled in Hitchcock’s softly lysergic crafting, the mystically shimmered eastern chamber arabesques at the beginning radiantly giving way to a spraying of kaleidoscopic chimes hazed in a deliciously demurred lazy eyed aura. Does it for us. 

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With the merest utterance of new incoming from Aetheric, I’m guessing you are already heading for the comfort of your own particular safe spot and indeed, who are we to blame you for previous outings from this ne’er do well imprint have often, or so it would seem, been procured from the other side. In truth the latest to their uneasily forbidding catalogue finds their head honcho, here darkly donned in his Slowthaw guise, perhaps etching the imprints lightest moment to date, of course we’ll qualify that by saying that it’s still gloomed in a shivering solemn. A ghostly aural apparition part ‘Stone Tape’ meets ‘Poltergeist’ with a momentary detour at ‘Hobs Lane’, yet it’s the permeating chill it gives off which though the track itself, incidentally called ‘slugs’, is only a brief two minute visitation, leaves in its wake a lasting shadowy spot in the corner of your listening space.     

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Incoming on the Alrealon Musique imprint where it’s being pencilled in for March time obsession, the return of Subduxtion who if both ears and memory are playing tricks, return after a lengthy lay off from these pages. A new twinset then, entitled ‘ambulate ‘/ ‘dry’ looms darkly on the horizon. Clouded in subtronic tension, the former provides for a becoming shadowy palette infused with slickly wired elements of dub and trance, the snaking textures coiling tightly to weave a deeply luxuriant spy noir story board which to these ears sounds not a million miles in the imagining of some secret studio summit gathered of members of plaid, orbital and depth charge. ‘dry’ on the other hand is a totally contrasting beast, edgily etched in petrified atmospherics, what might first appear dislocated, detached and despaired as though you’ve found yourself at the entrance of some thought fabled mystical portal, soon weaves something of a low lit nocturnal spell charm that seductively shimmers in the shadows woozily wooing amid its becoming spectral mesmeric pulsars much like some ghostly mythical siren.  

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acorn falling

Apologies to Lars of Acorn Falling who really must have the patience of a saint, I swear that if I was within punching distance of him he’d have laid me out clean well before now. Now this has been circling our listening space since forever, due for official release this Friday, ‘the Northern Transmitter’ will, I promise, be getting fond words aplenty tomorrow. All I can do is apologise for our ineptness thus far. As a taster, here’s the trailer video which I must isn’t a true reflection of how the album sounds overall, in truth it’s far darker and somewhat shivered in shadowy atmospherics, this essentially being the frenzied whiplash that is ‘I’m okay’ which aside being sublimely possessed of a thunderous panic attacking scowl, has something of an end of days finality attaching to it……

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