1 April 2017
→ Flyer (front)/(back)
Edições CN will present Idylls, a new LP/Book and CD
by Lieven Martens Moana and Talking Gongs, a new CD by
Pacific City Sound Visions’ Spencer Clark, in his
otherworldly Typhonian Highlife guise, will perform
a selection of tracks from his recent The World of
Shells LP (Kraak, 2016).
Ducktails, the solo moniker of Matt Mondanile,
is resident in Antwerp for a month and will present
music he has been working on during his stay.
25 March 2017
Baleine 3000 is a trio composed of Brussels producer
Lawrence Le Doux, France’s DJ Afrojaws, and Japan’s
Illreme. This international coalition came together
by chance when Le Doux was introduced to Illreme while
searching for a Japanese rapper in the late 2000s.
Le Doux sent over some of his productions and Illreme —
real name Jun Kamoda — wrote back in spurts, blending
his native tongue with English. At some point the tracks
disappeared inside Le Doux’s hard drive, forgotten
until one of the founders of the wonderful Vlek label
stumbled across them and recognised the genius within.
10 March 2017
Frank Hurricane is a steward of benevolent mischief,
and there is no slowing his holy roll. He has inhaled
deeply from a wide swath of this country’s bizarre
atmospheres, and when he exhales one gets the distinct
impression that he might actually be making some sort of
sense out of an entire host of experiences that might
otherwise simply confuse and confound.
Frank has yanked terms such as “spiritual” or “haunted”
down from their ridiculous alters and placed them into
tactile, more nuanced tonal motifs. The words don’t take
on new meanings per se, but they do exhibit new shades,
new hints of character. And character is something sorely
lacking in these rotten times. Frank Hurricane gives such
terms breath, and through that breath they live anew.
That’s what literature is, I think.
There’s a propulsive thrust here, a bottom end, a deep
bass bed, and above it everything else does soar and fly.
Frank’s legitimately unique storytelling abilities are
allowed to swim to their own peculiar rhythms.
No matter your poison — yeti, racquetball, tennis, pool,
whatever — all are welcome at the Hurricane’s table.
[Matt Krefting, Holyoke, MA, 2016]
Chang Yun Qiao Mu Qing Tuo (2013)
Lancang Cha Chang (2008)
Lancang Cha Chang Zi Ya Cha (2009)
Sencha Spring (2016)
Niels Van Heertum
23 February 2017
Niels Van Heertum explores the sonic possibilities of the
euphonium, tuba and trumpet, creating a space without haste.
Pure intervals are superposed and moved in order to avoid
tension and agitation whilst the amplified horns circle
around the room forming a dense web of sound.
The recently published LP, JK’s Kamer +50.92509° +03.84800°,
is the result of this quest for tranquillity and is released
by granvat and Smeraldina-Rima.
David Burraston is an award-winning artist/scientist working
in the areas of technology and electronic music since the
late 1970s. His experimental arts practice encompasses field
recording, landscape-scale sound art, chaos/complexity,
sound synthesis and electronic music. He performs, lectures,
conducts workshops and creates art installations in Regional
NSW and around the world. David also designs and builds sound
synthesizers based on his theories of chaos/complexity.
In 2014 he independently published the legendary SYROBONKERS!,
the most technical and in-depth interview ever given by
we never happened
Ekster LP presentation & show
27 January 2017
I am a vessel. A muffled mass. A bulk. Extent. A womb. I move.
So I am neither here nor there. Always somewhere in between.
To give substance to this frame, I carve out a piece of me.
Sometimes a shape, sometimes a form. Into this space I pour
what besieges me: words, pictures, you. So we can become me.
Viscosity and temperature dictate the time it takes. When it
is done, I break the mold I am. I take the cast inside and
place it by the others.
That is when it starts tormenting me. It gives a face to the
unsaid and an empire to what I could not bury. It now has a
weight and a consistency I can no longer avoid. Still eager to
escape, I turn my back on it and hobble ineptly away. But the
space it has left within my frame begins to throb. It flickers,
moans and aches. It chars. I can sometimes ignore what’s there,
but I can never hide from what’s gone. So I run.