Serious, back to the grass, cerebral research going on right here. Deep in a bed of swirling atoms and soft watercolors, the triumphantly titled “Oooooompha!” is inviting to say the least, and really just the first motion of textured drone from Primeira Vez:
Branches | Oooooompha!
Branches | Pré-Natal
The release is available through Triple You Tapes. And simultaneously, Branches has another other tape happening with Solid Melts, which also got some self-made visuals today.
Like a distant cousin to the circular window previously opened for UK’s Birkwin Jersey, “Orinoco” revels in beat symmetry, sputtering from forest to full kaleidoscoped cycle.
It belongs to a seven track EP called Old Hands arriving January 13th via Absent Fever. This post is in balance with Decoder, the freshly reconceptualized GOTC, and cultural magazine—learn more (and pledge support for its debut issue) at Kickstarter.
One late night in a performance space last fall, RxRy and Nathaniel mentally and physically synced from opposite sides of the room. That connection has grown in recent months; through shadow-chats and file shares they’ve opened up a limitless thread of possibility, and what breaths here is likely not the last of ideas to materialize. The Birth of Medusa, which works in both the mythological and biological senses of the term, is an audio/visual poem, a written piece scored and rendered into movement. All footage was shot using an iPhone in Chicago’s Shedd Aquarium, and all sound was designed by Rx specifically for the text. And with that said, the rest is best absorbed beside.
Back when the Pressed And guys drew on our roof, Imbue Up wasn’t much more than a zip file of unmastered tracks. On that summer afternoon though, Andrew and Matt shared a few of their ambitions, and sparkling among them was this: a video for each of the seven songs, all assigned with a deliberate lack of global direction. A flight of visual artists would respond (including Slow Motion alums BriAnna Olson, Wooden Lens, Stephanie Cafarella, LAND O’ GOSHEN, and Nathaniel Whitcomb). And if you’ve been riding along, you’ve seen four finished pieces circulate. Below are the final three, within the context of the entire set. Which, somewhat unpredictably, is how this is fully realized—a whole greater than the sum of its parts, or as Andrew Hamlet put it recently while presenting the project in a Chapel Hill theater:
“It appears that placing full trust in the music to direct the filmmakers was best. Totally organic—totally entropic. We have allowed the universe to work its wonders.”