the torment of ordinary things, and the joys
immersive listening ft. Purelink, Wilson Tanner, Gravity Pleasure, ++
the arrival of July is familiar. the sun cuts through the window in this heatwave, and the birds are far more distinct than usual.
i've been thinking about how much has shifted in the last decade, or even in the last three years. the scope of change has caught me off guard. i'd expected adventures, growth, new experiences, and there have been many great times alongside the difficult ones. what i probably hadn't anticipated enough was how displacement would reshape everything, including how i carry myself through the world.
when i moved out of my home, i operated under the assumption that home would remain static - that I could venture out and return to find everything suspended exactly as I'd left it. my youth still offers that kind of certainty about permanence. this feeling of certainty too will disintegrate with age.
i’m aware of this new sweet life i’ve built, though its longevity i do not know. the more solid this new foundation becomes, the more there is to leave behind, i’m aware. not just places or people, but entire ecosystems of connection that can't be recreated or revisited.
my pet cat, the pigeons outside my window, the bookshelf with all my favourite books, the cactus at the edge of my bed. in reality, i never got to see them again. they exist now only in memory, transformed by time into something that was never quite as fixed as i'd imagined.
this year is just a period of transition for me. it has been particularly generous in some ways and demanding in others. that seems to be the natural order of things. stitching pieces together with whatever remains in the afterglow of the days we chose to leave behind.
the process is more complex than anyone tells you. rebuilding your internal landscape requires such focus that other things slip quietly away - friendships that drift into seven-year silences, Sunday rituals that fade without ceremony. but then there are new Sunday traditions, fresh connections that form. the architecture of a life rebuilds itself.
time and again, the same cyclical thoughts repeat in this vortex of human emotion. so many people before me have questioned these same things, and that is why it is so deeply personal.
what’s playing, July?
1/5 Legends by Wilson Tanner
(ambient/ drone)
it’s pure joy to absorb music as beautiful as this album by Wilson Tanner. created while stationed at the vineyards of South Australia, the record carries the essence of a finely distilled vintage. a medley of textures comes together, brimming with sweet-and-sour notes, soft and slightly acidic layers: all qualities reminiscent of natural wine. earthy, aromatic, and love-soaked, it’s a tingling, full-bodied experience.
2/5 Nuits Sans Nuit by Pierre Bastien & Michel Banabita
(electroacoustic/ experimental)
i am always drawn to a body of music that feels like taking a slow walk in a museum full of people’s feelings and intentions. this album by Michel Banabita & Pierre Bastien, is exactly that. acoustic and electronic elements converse openly, completely exposed to the public and its perception. sound interacts in multidisciplinary forms throughout this album: a flute-augmented cornet, and lots of wobbly, playful textures.
3/5 Water bodies by Various Artists on Gravity Pleasure
(ambient/ electronic)
as fluid as the name sounds, Water Bodies is a compilation curated by Berlin’s Gravity Pleasure, showcasing FLINTA artists. every contribution is a dense and deliberate work of art, exploring aqueous sounds. the album spans from the deep and contemplative blues of the ocean to the flirtatious trickle of lush jungle streams. elements of hydro-feminine energy converge into a tasteful palette, as the rhythm ebbs and flows with crushing beauty.
4/5 Faith by Purelink
(ambient/ electronic)
one of the most tender and sincerely affecting albums this year comes from the Brooklyn-based trio Purelink. it’s just three guys in their 30’s making music that speaks directly to my womanly lore. i can feel the highs and lows stirring in response to their emotive, expansive sound. the whole thing feels like being on the verge of something immense: it could be grief, or joy, or maybe even an orgasm. each track builds on a quiet intensity. there’s a rush of a sensation held within, as if the body is bracing the flood of a feeling that hasn’t arrived yet. and when it does arrive, you know it was meant to be.
5/5 Suspension of Belief by gyrofield
electronic
ever so often, a gem emerges in the electronic music department that seems to stimulate every braincell in just the right way. extraordinary energy is in the room with Gyrofield. from Hong-Kong, via Bristol, to Utrecht, their hyperactive drums have travelled a long way and are now delighting the ears of many. layers of micro-synth, mechanic bleeping, a rhythmic architecture entirely their own. i’ve enjoyed almost all of Gyrofield’s output this year. Perhaps you too?
thank you for reading. i hope summer is treating you well xoxo