longformeditions

[longformeditions]

This archive was established 1 July, 2025. Please search each artist via Bancamp to find audio for each piece. For information contact andrew(at)longformeditions.com

Operating from 2018 until 2025, Longform Editions was a curatorial music project created to foster and celebrate immersive listening experiences for the musically adventurous. Founded by Andrew Khedoori and Mark Gowing, the project was based on the collective experience of their long running Preservation label. Longform Editions was originally born out of a desire to enable a deeper attention to listening utilising contemporary digital music delivery systems. Not conceived as a record label, rather the project was more like an ever-evolving group show at an art gallery, but online, with music.

Longform Editions aimed to bring together both established and lesser-known artists with like-minded musical pursuits, creating a new space for exposure and musical discovery, while also offering an expanded sense of listening. The project presented singular, extended music pieces that offer a focussed point of listening. Editions of four different pieces from four different artists were released every two months.

Andrew Khedoori, Longform Editions’ music director, was responsible for all music curation and artist management. Khedoori has been working in the music industry for more than 30 years and is a passionate advocate of the artist as cultural leader and has a sophisticated understanding of sound, feeling and the human condition.

Mark Gowing, the project’s creative director, is an artist and typographer specialising in investigations into abstracted applications of text and systems. His Longform Editions cover art was created using a series of generative typographic systems that utilise the artist name and work title as raw materials for abstracted outcomes. Gowing’s commercial fonts are available from The Letters.

The listings below are a complete document of Longform Editions releases in reverse chronological order.

[longformeditions]

LE169 Angel Bat Dawid A Modern Cosmic Apocalyptic Sonic Discourse for the Book of Enoch 26.02.2025

Angel Bat Dawid is a Black American Composer, Improviser, Clarinetist, Pianist, Vocalist, Educator and DJ. In 2019 she released her debut album The Oracle with Chicago label International Anthem Recording Co.. Recorded using only her cell phone in various locations, the album received wide-spread critical-acclaim with Pitchfork declaring it, “a vibrant, spiritual, free-jazz document of black life as it stands today”. As an educator, Angel teaches her Great Black Music course at Cook County Juvenile Temporary Detention Center through Old Town School of Folk. She is clarinetist in Damon Locks’ Black Monument Ensemble, and she hosts a monthly music show on NTS Radio (via International Anthem).

Artist notes: This immersive audio experience invites you to engage deeply with one of the most significant and enigmatic texts of antiquity. The Book of Enoch, an ancient Jewish apocalyptic work, has been highly revered and preserved primarily within the Ethiopian Orthodox Church and Beta Israel traditions. Attributed to Enoch – the great-grandfather of the biblical Noah – this text explores profound themes of angels, demons, morality, and cosmic judgment, offering a rich and compelling narrative for those interested in spirituality, mysticism, and humanity’s quest for understanding.

However, as we delve into this work, it is imperative to acknowledge the cultural challenges shaped by historical dominance and marginalisation that have often skewed interpretations of ancient texts. There exists a troubling tendency within white culture to dismiss significant literature – especially that which arises from nonwhite traditions – as mere fairy tales or superstitions. This dismissive approach often stems from a prevailing atheism or skepticism that regards ancient narratives not as profound explorations of the human experience but rather as primitive folklore devoid of truth. Such attitudes are, quite frankly, both arrogant and disrespectful to the wisdom of ancient peoples, who conveyed complex understandings of the natural world through stories, music, and writings.

These narratives encapsulate humanity’s efforts to make sense of existence, morality, and the cosmos. It is essential to challenge this superficial perspective and acknowledge that ancient wisdom offers insights often overlooked by contemporary thought. In orchestrating music inspired by the themes of The Book of Enoch, I aim to confront this narrative and reclaim the significance of these stories, emphasising the richness and depth they possess.

Through this sonic discourse, I wish to bridge ancient themes with contemporary musical compositions, utilising sound as a means to evoke and challenge our perceptions of spirituality and art. May these soundscapes resonate with the narratives of The Book of Enoch, celebrating the ancient wisdom embedded within its pages and fostering a more equitable understanding of our shared human heritage.

Instructions for listening and engagement: As you embark on this journey through The Book of Enoch, here is the full text.

I encourage you to listen to this soundscape on repeat nine times as there are 108 chapters and the entire track time is 43:20 allowing the music to deepen your connection to each section of the text. Here are some guidelines to enhance your experience:

Read Aloud: As you listen, take the time to read the text of the Book of Enoch aloud. Engaging with the material vocally will deepen your understanding and connection to the intricate narratives.

Take Notes: Equip yourself with pen and paper to jot down your thoughts and reflections on each passage. Allow your personal interpretations and feelings to emerge as you engage with the text and music.

Interpret the Text in Three Ways: In the Text: Focus on understanding the story itself. Identify characters and cultural storylines by referencing a Bible or The Book of Jasher. Immerse yourself in the narrative.

Behind the Text: Consider the historical context in which this text was written. Research the times of oppression and the apocalyptic literature prevalent during that era. Understanding this backdrop will enrich your interpretation of the text’s themes.

In Front of the Text: Reflect on how cultural elements presented in the text may differ from our contemporary societal norms. Recognise patriarchal dynamics and other social factors inherent to the time of its writing. Explore how these aspects resonate within our current context – drawing parallels to today’s struggles and societal frameworks.

Stay Open-Minded: Keep an open heart and mind as you navigate through the text and sound. Trust your interpretations and feelings; the music serves as a guiding post throughout your exploration.

In closing, I wish you peace and light along this transformative journey. May the intersections of ancient wisdom and contemporary reflection illuminate your path as you engage with The Book of Enoch.

Peace and Light, Angel Bat Dawid

All Music composed, recorded, performed (clarinets, synths, piano, vocals) mixed and mastered in 432hz By Angel Bat Dawid in 2024, except for “Mi Ala Shamayim” composed and arranged by Angel Bat Dawid and Dawid Ben Dawid (my Father), featuring Percy Metcaff: vocals; Vandy Harris(AACM): saxophone; and Chicago Avant Garde Session musicians recorded in 2001.

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LE168 whait Closer Quarters 12.02.25

whait is more eaze and Wendy Eisenberg.

more eaze is the project of Brooklyn-based sound artist and multi-instrumentalist Mari Maurice. Ranging from ambient pop to deconstructed sound collage, her numerous solo and collaborative releases weave mundane, everyday sounds, acoustic orchestration and instrumentation, and electronics into adventurous textural compositions. Her music explores themes of intimacy, yearning, and the transformation of abstract feeling into intense living through sound design that moves seamlessly between the banal and the ethereal. She has recently released work with Longform Editions, Leaving Records, Ecstatic, and Orange Milk with forthcoming releases on Thrill Jockey and 15 love. Her work as a string arranger, pedal steel player, and producer has recently been featured on recordings by Martha Skye Murphy, Water Damage, Lomelda, Fashion Club, Claire Rousay, Space Afrika and Rainy Miller, and Nick Zanca amongst others. She regularly performs in the duos Pink Must (with Lynn Avery) and whait (with Wendy Eisenberg).

Wendy Eisenberg is an improviser and songwriter who plays guitar, tenor banjo, synthesiser, bass and voice. Their work tries to demystify and then immediately, subconsciously re-mystify what a guitar can do within and around songs, and as such is about memory, perception, and love. In addition to their genre-agnostic solo work, they are a member of the Bill Orcutt Guitar Quartet, Editrix, Squanderers (with Kramer and David Grubbs), Darlin (with Ryan Sawyer and Lester St Louis), and work closely with Caroline Davis, John Zorn, and more eaze. They are an Assistant Professor of songwriting, music theory, guitar, and other such overlaps at The New School, and have published essays about music and other things in Sound American, Arcana, and the Contemporary Music Review.

Artist notes: Closer Quarters is a piece that we designed together initially as a sort of etude. The banjo plays a series of chords in a single position that alter a few notes chromatically every few minutes while the guitar responds by gradually increasing rhythmic complexity against the banjo's constant quarter note pulse. The title also reflects the fact that Wendy and I live together and are in love. The music maintains this sense of constancy even though there is continuous change and development that reveals itself both subtly and in more grand contexts with the additional arrangements we composed for this recording. The additional instrumentation follows a similar additive process as the banjo/guitar movement with new instruments gradually leaking through the constant pulse and a sung text slowly revealing meaning in chunks. As we wrote and recorded this piece, we were also watching Mad Men (my first viewing and Wendy’s second) and encountered a tweet that we misremembered as saying “I'm having a Mad Men summer (historical events keep happening but I'm just living my life)” and somehow that description feels apt for this piece. Things keep changing but the constant pulse and drone of connection carries through.

As time has passed since my last Longform Editions piece, my relationship to longform pieces of music has grown immensely. To me, duration is crucial to how i express myself musically and creatively and the impact of experiencing a piece of music as a singular composition that develops over time is more important than ever in a time where the rest of the world trends towards immediacy. – more eaze

We titled Closer Quarters together as a little pun on quarter notes and cohabitation. Mari wrote more explicitly on our composition process in her notes, so I’ll cover the text I sing, which is interspersed throughout the piece in fragments. On my desk sits Shelley Frisch’s translation of Kafka’s Zürau aphorisms, edited with commentary by Reiner Stach. When I’m stuck on some musical or existential problem, I’ll open up the book and read what comes up. When we were starting to record the vocal arrangement of this piece, I was thinking about how the only words in Morton Feldman’s Three Voices are from Frank O’Hara’s poem Wind, and how the rhythm of the poem twists into the magic of that long journey. I opened the book of aphorisms to try to find something to twist out, and found this:

“Sensual love misleads us about heavenly love; it could not do so alone, but because it unknowingly has within it the elements of heavenly love, it can.”

Something about that weird ice floe in the middle – “it could not do so alone” – which seems to set ‘sensual’ and ‘heavenly’ love in a committed romantic relationship with each other, hooked me in first. Second, that perfect, singable rhythm of the last bit – “but/because/it/unknowingly/has/within/it/the elements/of/heavenly/love/it/can” – so bouncy! The clincher for me: the fact that both sensual and heavenly love are essentials for longform romantic love. The aphorism may be ‘about’ how great sex has within it something heavenly that convinces you you are in ‘actual love’, but after some great sensual love, how could you not a little bit, ‘unknowingly’, believe that? One kind of love is kind of a vessel for the other, just as the quarter note makes possible the superimposition and the subdivision alike, just as the banjo and the guitar constantly foil each other (in our piece, as in life) – and all the rest of our arrangements and orchestration stem from that similar urge, to adorn and make explicit the heavenliness of the music and life we sense, and make, and are.

Longform music grows in my appreciation the older I get because of how explicitly it deals with the deceptions of linear time. Its miracles: feeling yourself, in a single piece, emerge from one sonic plane to another; marking the passage of time not through song breaks (stanzaic) but through the mysterious editing process the mind performs when it is also trying to keep up with what’s around it (epic); not having to reach into your pocket for a device to change the track. I like how in longer pieces the form is not so explicit about itself, most of the time; you have to trust that the form will keep forming. I like how it feels to be in one world for more than four minutes or whatever. Mostly, I like that it literally takes your time. – Wendy Eisenberg

mari: banjo, violin, pedal steel, field recordings Wendy: guitars, vocals, bass Mastered by Simon Scott at SPS Mastering

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LE167 Natalia Beylis Coy-Koi 12.02.25

Natalia Beylis’ music revolves somewhere between sonic story-teller and multi-instrumental explorer. She has released over 40 albums between solo works and collaborations and has appeared on numerous compilations. Based in rural Ireland, her work parallels the lines of her surroundings: creaking trees, farm animals, vocal samples taken from conversations with her neighbours, the northwesterly breeze, creatures rusting in the hedgerows, the strange noises from the bog at dusk and rainfall. Lots and lots of rainfall. Her solo compositions and improvisations are a mix of garbled tape collage recordings, manipulated sounds of seemingly mundane objects, eerie mandola mantras and dreamscape piano voyages. While she regularly records on a variety of traditional instruments, she is just as likely to use non-musical sound sources within her compositions. For example, she recently released an album using just the sounds created by a domestic Singer sewing machine. Natalia regularly collaborates with cellist Eimear Reidy, percussionist Willie Stewart and is a member of the group BB84. She also composes pieces for ensembles. Her latest composition, Around Here, The Birds Plant the Trees uses conkers both as a sonic source and as a visual conducting aid to direct the players.

Artist notes: My sometimes neighbour Kevin inherited a Koi from his mother when she passed away. The Koi was maybe ten years old when she came into Kevin’s care. They lived together for about a decade with life passing by in its usual way. Kevin would sprinkle daily flakes into the tank and have an occasional one-sided conversation and the Koi would swim in circles upon circles upon circles. One day, Kevin came home from a weekend away and the Koi was floating upside down at the bottom of the tank. Though still alive, this was clearly not a desirable state for this shimmery orange creature.

At the top of the hill between Kevin’s sometimes house and my house, there is a seemingly minute pool of water beside a large sprawling hawthorn tree whose limbs drape over the surface. We’re not sure what the source of the water is but it is always clear and has never had any algae creeping across it. The name of our townland is ‘Ridge of the Wells’ so it might be that the water comes from an underground spring.

When Kevin saw the Koi at the bottom of the tank, he realised that a life of swimming in circles inside the same four walls was no longer a life worthwhile. So Kevin brought the Koi to the pool at the top of the hill and released it into a new existence. Now I'm the one who sprinkles the daily flakes and has the one-sided conversations. I arrive, shaking the food and calling out Coy Koi and sometimes the Koi swims over to say hello and other times it dives beneath the water and shimmies away from me deep down into the mysterious unknown waters.

I often daydream about what it must be like for the Koi to live in the pool after a lifetime in the tank. I wonder how deep the water goes down and whether there's tributaries that the Koi goes off and explores. Do the hares and the foxes that live around us come to visit? Sometimes I wonder does the Koi get lonely? Does it think back to its time in the tank? If given a choice, would the Koi have picked the uncertainty of the pool over the steadiness of the tank? Sometimes I wonder if it will survive a full year of changing seasons. But overall, thinking about the Koi fills me with hope and a deep sense of magic and the possibilities in life.

I wrote this piece imagining Koi’s initial explorations of the pool.

This track was recorded on two pieces of equipment that I hadn’t used previously. I decided to restrict myself to one pre-set on each instrument as I hoped that these limitations would help me focus deeper on the individual sounds.

I have a deep curiosity about how humans engage with our everyday soundscapes.

About the sonic realms where the unseen and unheard come alive. Where every rustle from a hedgerow and every pulsating drone from a kitchen appliance tells a story waiting to be discovered. I’m forever fascinated about what we seek as we capture the melodies of life, the voices of nature, and the echoes of human experience. Why do we feel compelled to preserve these fleeting moments? How do we process the whispers of the world and the musicality of the seemingly mundane?

Recorded while on residency with BB84 at the Regional Cultural Center in Letterkenny, Donegal in their Sound Studio exclusively using the equipment available within the studio. Recorded on an Arturia PolyBrute and a Mellotron M4000D Recorded by George Brennan Mixed by Natalia Beylis Mastered by Simon Scott at SPS Mastering

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LE166 Tujiko Noriko Echoes on the Hem 12.02.25

Tujiko Noriko is a France-based musician, singer, songwriter and filmmaker. In 2000 Peter Rehberg and Christian Fennesz discover her first demo track tapes and she debuts with album Shojo-Toshi on Mego. Critically acclaimed in the avant-garde electronica circuit, she is invited in festivals like Sonar, Benicassim, Mutek etc, and performs worldwide. She has to date released 20 highly regarded albums released through Editions Mego, FatCat, Room 40 and PAN. Her 2002 album Hard Ni Sasete receives an Honorary Mention at the Prix Ars Electronica.

Tujiko writes music for films, dance performances, animations and art installations, and collaborates with renowned musicians Peter Rehberg, Nobukazu Takemura and Lawrence English. In 2005 Tujiko also made her first two films, Sand and Mini Hawaii and Sun, have been shown internationally in venues such as the Foundation Cartier in Paris and Uplink in Tokyo. In 2017, she co-writes and co-directs with Joji Koyama the feature length film Kuro which premiered in Slamdance 2017 and was shown on Mubi. In 2020–21 her music piece was in the exhibition Audiosphere at Museo Reina Sofia – the first exhibition in a major contemporary art museum with no images and no objects at all.

She made a score for a feature film Surge which was shown in Sundance and Berlin international film festival in 2020, also for Mission Report, a film by Mira Sanders and Cedric Noel premiered at la Botanique in 2022. She is currently writing a new film with Joji Koyama.

Her latest album is Crepuscule I&II from Editions Mego.

Artist notes: This summer, for the first time in years, I had a few days at home to myself to just relax. It was a bit lonely, but at the same time, it felt like such a luxury. I spent the days lounging around and doing as I pleased. During that time, I recorded this music.

I’ve always admired rap, but I can't do it myself, so I looked for an AI rapper who would rap what I wrote, unfortunately or fortunately, I couldn’t find one yet, so instead, it ended up like AI monologue. Creating a longer piece of music was really fun. Somehow, it felt more like capturing a moment in life compared to writing a four-minute music. I had to finish the track but it felt like this piece had already been going on before and would keep going after. Here are the lyrics. Thank you for listening, and thank you, Andrew, for inviting me!

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LE165 Fennesz The Last Days of May 12.02.25

Fennesz uses guitar and computer to create shimmering, swirling electronic sound of enormous range and complex musicality. His lush and luminant compositions are anything but sterile computer experiments. They resemble sensitive, telescopic recordings of rainforest insect life or natural atmospheric occurrences, an inherent naturalism permeating each piece. He lives and works in Vienna.

Artist notes: The piece was recorded in the last days of May 2024. I discarded my original concepts for this piece right after starting the work. This was partly due to the fact that I happened to listen to a piece by Roland S. Howard that day, who I consider one of the greatest guitarists. So, I started again with a blank canvas. I focused on the essential components and instruments that had defined my work so far: guitars, string instruments in general and samples thereof, as well as a few synthesisers with a particular focus on the now largely forgotten synthesis principle of physical modelling. Microtonality and the decay behaviour of strings were important to me. The piece, conceived as a sound installation, is meant to blend into everyday soundscapes and occasionally stand out. However, it can also be listened to at full volume on headphones.

By Christian Fennesz, Vienna, 2024 Mastered by Simon Scott at SPS Mastering Produced in collaboration with the Art Gallery of New South Wales for Volume 2024

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LE164 Jolanda Moletta & Karen Vogt Suspended Between Worlds 04.12.24

Jolanda Moletta is a multimedia artist and one-woman electronic choir. She experiments with wordless vocal-only compositions using layers, harmonies, and her remarkable vocal range. Moletta considers her live performances to be a collective ritual and created her Sonic and Visual Spells following the cycles of nature and the moon.

Karen Vogt is an experimental artist who moves between ambient and pop to create spacious, atmospheric compositions – often with long, drawn-out vocals. Vogt’s creative process is minimalistic and uses improvisation to channel emotions, moods, and instinctual responses. Imperfection and vulnerability of the voice are at the core of her work. The two artists have collaborated regularly and performed live together, either solo or with their bands (She Owl and Heligoland). Using an alchemical approach, the women combine spontaneous and emotive improvisation with a ritualistic point of view. Sharing a passion for world-building and a desire to convey a deeper meaning through wordless music, they offer a gentle intermingling of their voices for the first time in this longform piece.

Artist notes: We travelled to a coastal town in the North-West of France with minimal gear. Jolanda brought only one microphone and a laptop. Karen came with one microphone and three effects pedals. We planned to simply meet and make something together that captured that moment in time.

For both of us, the voice is often the essential component in our creative process and we consider it to be our main instrument. Our voices are a part of what makes us unique and also unites us. Breath moves through us with the transient nature of the wind as we emote, express ourselves, communicate information, and connect to something higher to transcend daily life. Suspended Between Worlds is where the voice hovers and lingers before the wind changes, the tide turns and the bird's wing cuts through the air. Inner worlds are externalised as we focus on the same thing but in different ways. The energy of our two voices merge for a moment in time and create a third entity which is the track itself. Karen recorded the sound of the birds close to the ocean while walking along the isolated Breton coastline. This audio snapshot was used as a loop woven into the track that would connect human voices and bird songs. Jolanda offered to create a full moon ritual around the improvisation bringing her spiritual perspective to the project. Incorporating magic, emotions, the moon, and nature while bringing intention and purpose to the improvisation session allowed the two artists to drop into their flow states while being aware of each other as their creative worlds met for 21 minutes. To be suspended between worlds is to be aware of yourself, your surroundings, and those around you. It’s a moment during improvisation where you are aware of being able to go within, while also interacting with the outer world.

Deep listening is an invitation to use sound as a way to be fully immersed in the senses and experience an altered state. To listen deeply is to trust the music and the sounds to take you somewhere else and to be willing to let it be a different experience than what you’re used to. It’s important to let things unfold slowly and to be in no rush for something to happen. In this way, you can let the music create an atmosphere that draws you in and expands your imagination.

Music has the power to create worlds. Deep listening allows us to enter these worlds and inhabit them. We must have contemplative spaces where we can recharge away from our personal and shared concerns, feel safe and inspired, and see the possibilities for positive change in the world.

Recorded in Winter, 2024 during the first full moon of the year. Live improvisation took place in a coastal town of North-Western France, just a few hundred metres from the Atlantic Ocean. Thanks to Arnold Bugnet.

Jolanda Moletta: vocals and vocal treatments Karen Vogt: vocals, vocal treatments and field recordings. Composed, mixed, and produced by Jolanda Moletta and Karen Vogt Mastered by Simon Scott.

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LE163 Reign of Ferns Out Beyond Is 04.12.24

We spent time in Littlefield: walking, listening, sharing stories, taking pictures, getting groceries, going to the local community festival around the corner. This piece is part of that time and place.

The recording space is porous, meaning there’s no definitive sonic delineation between “inside” and “outside”. We’re as much of the sonic landscape as the trees blowing in the front yard and the trucks driving by. The sounds on this recording reflect that unified field.

We’ve been exploring a system of music that utilises amorphous and indeterminate constraints at the outset, relying less on chord progressions, time signatures and predetermined form, and more so on a shared musical vocabulary and intuition. This approach in music provides an emptiness for collaborative improvisation to come into existence. Instead of opposing forces that counterbalance and/or juxtapose to forge something into being, this artistic practice evokes, reflects and resonates the “is-ness” of collective moments during recording.

At one point in the two day session, Andrew remarked, “it’s in every key! We can play any note, and it works!” Rhythms transform texture. Melody informs and becomes noise.

Artist notes: The title of the piece comes from a Rumi poem we saw in Jon Hassell’s Atmospherics book in the midst of his ruminations on magic realism, future musics, and new modes of organisation and “allowable” musical vocabulary:

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I’ll meet you there. – Rumi

Listening is both the artist and the art; the gallery is you. – Ryan

Slow shifts, trance of repetition, feeling out a shape in darkness – AW

Recorded July 20, 2024 in Littlefield, TX with additional discussions, overdubs, embellishments, and mixing in Taipei, TW and Littlefield, TX over the following month and a half. Mastered by Andrew Weathers

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LE162 The Nighttime Ensemble The Nighttime Ensemble 04.12.24

The Nighttime Ensemble is a longform structured improvisation organised by Daniel Wyche (guitar) and Brian J. Sulpizio (piano). The group is an exercise, the exercise is the piece, the piece is the group. First performed with Brian and Ro Lundberg (bass) at Elastic Arts in Chicago on July 29, 2022, this iteration is further sustained by the addition of Lia Kohl (cello, radios) and Sam Scranton (drums, objects). The project is inspired by a YouTube comment, left by user Fadi, nearing a decade ago now, on an upload of Bohren & der Club of Gore’s iconic 1995 Midnight Radio, and which reads: “I can feel how fragile our world is, how lonely people are after midnight, how absurd it is to be attached to anything!” Together, and for an hour, in the dark and cold of a Chicago February, not far from the rime of Lake Michigan, we worked carefully and methodically to refract Fadi’s sentiment – exchanging the end-times heat it evokes for our own familiar cold. There is something, after all, about space and patience that invokes extremes of temperature, and there is something about these unbearable temperatures that dilates time. Through the lens of the Chicago tradition of extended-technique based free improvisation, the open space and quiet patience of certain threads of new music, a general stillness and the sense of nothing every really touching, the help of old friends, and any of a number of other problems, we worked toward something new, and left the studio late enough unclear in all ways.

Daniel Wyche: Guitar Brian J. Sulpizio: Piano Ro Lundberg: Upright Bass Lia Kohl: Cello, Radio, Objects Sam Scranton: Drums and Percussion Recorded live on February 20, 2024 at Northwestern University, at the gracious invitation of Alex Inglizian Engineered by Andrew Perz and our dear friend Mike Meegan (RXM Reality) Mixed by Brian J. Sulpizio Mastered by Simon Scott

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LE161 Sanae Yamada Flowering Tree 04.12.24

Sanae Yamada is musician and composer currently based on Portland, Oregon. Since 2009 she has recorded and toured as half of the band Moon Duo (with Ripley Johnson) and solo under the name Vive la Void. She has also created a score and soundscape in collaboration with the theatre company Half-Straddle for the play Is This a Room, which premiered at The Kitchen in 2019 on ran on Broadway in 2021. Her ambient improvisations can be heard on the art podcast Line Time. Her work explores trance states, the shadow, and the nature of consciousness.

Artist notes: This piece originated with an invitation from my partner, Ripley, to make a 60 minute ambient track for his radio show on NTS. This was in late April. The room where I work looks out on an apple tree, which was in full bloom. When the wind blew, petals would float in the air and down to the scrappy grass below. I sat in this room and listened – to the tree, the wind, the flowers, birds and insects; to the hum of the neighbours HVAC system and the cars on the street and the power lines and the howling dog next door; to the room and the walls of the room and to my own breath and the sounds that came into my head, body and hands. Flowering Tree emerged from that place of presence, stillness and receptivity.

Recorded by Sanae Yamada in Portland, Oregon in 2024 Guitar loop by Ripley Johnson Mixed by Sanae Yamada and Ripley Johnson

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LE160 Post Moves Love’s Temporary Occurrence 16.10.24

Sam Wenc is a composer, improviser, and interdisciplinary artist working with sound, text, performance and installation. Wenc has released music on Where to Now, Moone Records, Noumenal Loom, and Sweet Wreath among others. He is one half of Lobby Art Editions and manages archival label Mississippi Records.

Artist notes: This piece began as a reworking of a previous, shorter piece I had from a year prior. As I began pulling apart, stretching, stitching, new threads emerged that I couldn't leave loose and hanging. The bulk of the piece came together in short order in just a few days. It became apparent there were going to be distinct movements and the task for me was to allow each movement to stick around long enough for them to be fully delved into, while also flexible and spacious so they could fall away into the next. I used instrumentation that I have had growing familiarity with over the years, but very little technical skill or know-how (vibraphone, piano, violin, drums) and left out those that I tend to spend much more time with (pedal steel, guitar). I knew this piece was to be about trusting my gestures, touch, and heart much more than about my comfortable methods of making music.

Sustained listening allows for the space to become acquainted with the character of sound. Like in a film or book, the best kinds create a believable character. We trust their presence and give ourselves over to their evolution, what they have to show us. They stick around long enough for that trust to be established. And even when they turn, or show another face, we still trust that it was a necessary moment, a necessary change. I think of sound in this way. As a form of surrender, choicelessness. “Do with me as you must” kinda trip. Because I know that in that space is where hearts reach out and touch one another, even if just for a moment. It’s winding and uncertain, full of boredom and surprises.

Written, recorded, and performed by Sam Wenc Clarinet by Jack Braunstein Recorded in Philadelphia, PA; March 2024

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LE159 Babe, Terror Pescadou Gualapagouse 16.10.24

Claudio Katz Szynkier is a producer and composer from São Paulo. He has a considerable history in electronic and experimental music under the moniker Babe, Terror (he also uses the name Zpell Hologos). A language shaper, he has released some fundamental albums for recent experimental and electronic music, in Brazil and globally.

Artist notes: In my music, I want maximum contact with a time. With The Time. And with other, parallel times, which exist in the tension between the documentation of what is decomposing and the summoning of what invisibly existed or is yet to exist. The lives that were and weren't here. Well, I'm looking for the arrival of something else. Another force, a force of union of places, times, and materials, but also a force of naturalization of a utopian absurdity that simply enchants those who want to be enchanted. But I want to find it intensely, in all its strength. In fact, I have nothing else to do, nothing else that I can do in my life. The Longform people then gave me the opportunity to probe and intensify this work of time while discovering my new album. But in fact, anyone who wants, can feel Pescadou Gualapagouse as a real big landscape, a real big track, or like an album in itself, in its own.

On Pescadou Gualapagouse I looked totransforms spirits, haunting and solacing blends of the Baroque, the Renaissance, the American and African jazz, into music from Babe, Terror.

Any instrument can be rhythmic and melodic at the same time. I think I learned this from jazz and Brazilian Samba-de-Enredo. And with that I can maybe build a little bum orchestra that is at the same time a homemade jazz band, in a house, mine, that doesn't have space. I feel like I’m in an ensemble workshop, a garage-of-ensembles itself, where I go with drills, presses, foundries, forges, like in a Samba carnival tent in the north of São Paulo, like Rosas de Ouro’s (Golden Roses) tent, recreating the instruments and bodies of these people and the infinite sound modules that they can put together as jazz or maybe chamber ensembles.

At the time of making the track, I was watching the Marseille Trilogy, by Marcel Pagnol. And particularly, the film Marius, whose director is the brilliant Alexander Korda. It is an unbelievable spectacle from the beginning of talkies. You can't even think about or really measure the power of that at the time. It’s about this bartender in the seaside town, abused by his father, played by the great Raimu. He has a girlfriend he loves, Fanny, but he wants to be a sailor and visit Southern Asia, Brazil. I think I wanted, with the piece, to make Marius get to know Brazil, or at least my city. I imagined sub-tracks within the large track. I invite listeners to enjoy it this way.

Composition, for me, is a technique of merging, merging worlds. It is about making things merge. Sampling everything that can and cannot converse, forming real ensembles of thought, memories, and sounds. In my way of seeing, all the instruments speak at a thousand different times and ages, drawing compositions. Compositions of a world for me and for the listener, from a merging perspective. And from the perspective of an eternal movement of degradation, rebirth, and encounter. The noble, rustic, rotten woods, the cheap synth, the broken saxophone that costs 90% less than the original price of its first sale, they speak with and to the others. The times and the sounds can really cross each other. In Horizogon I said to myself that in Babe, Terror there is no separation between times, instrumentations, principles of music. The metals are biomusical forms of landfill, the woodwinds can be from an imagined Asia, from the old Persian territory, they are recycled from retired Caspian ships. They can be fruits from Polynesian trees. You can imagine what you wish. And they are rotten Europe before it really rots, and they, these parts and biosoundbuldings and musical bioembodiments, they actually merge. They merge and melt in an ensemble, building a crater of protection, separation, and escape from the catastrophe of the world. Basically, that for me is making music. And I maybe attempted to put it in the heart of this new thing, Pescadou Gualapagouse.

I’m trying to do my best works now. The works that bring me the most special joy. The ones that I can consider the most exuberant, beautiful works. I’m in a time war, because I have some health problems, and I don't know for how long I'll be able to do them. So I’m trying to advance in the unknown and uncharted territories of my heart. I want to share an extreme experience, an experience of my utmost, by orchestrating, performing, creating, and bringing together sounds, instruments, times, abstract and hidden sound cinematographies. And, by making it, I want to offer my best to the world and to whoever wants it. I don’t see beauty as a fixed, stagnant thing though. Like a stopped meaning. This is old, of course. I want the-other-beauty.

In Pescadou Gualapagouse, Claudio played with the pieces in a way that connected to his architectural imagination, which is one of his long-standing interests. Claudio believes that there is a living parallel between the construction of music and cities, the musical experience and the experience in cities.

When a separate instrument enters into dialogue with another separate instrument, with another relic, from another time, this encounter is unique. Something really unique will happen. It generates unique music, and in a way, an unique era. And it gives rise to other encounters, other conjunctions. I believe in this system of conjunctions forming imaginary cities. Imaginary cities of music. First, as models (like tiny plastic cities) and then as more than that. The models will reemerge as real city plantings. A proposed world that was sown and appeared, like magic, on the ground. My idea of injecting instruments and sounds into each other has a bit of this base excitement, this base desire. If you convert architectural thinking to musical thinking, that's what I want. If you just create a parallel between the two ways of thinking, you'll understand what I like to play and make in music. An idea of orchestration as a city to be built and discovered. And an idea of orchestrating the city itself, stirring up the roots beneath the material city; orchestrating the concrete, for people to move with music in its secrets and corners, and get lost, and get reanimated, and get reappeared. That’s because I live in a city where it's almost impossible to live. And it needs to be reformed somehow. I try to reform with music. Imperialism and capitalism made São Paulo a giant of cement (at dawn it is cool), a morbid Shopping Center for people, and beggars outside. I am composing for the enslaved and hurt of the world who have had their cities colonized and destroyed by the economic and existential system, and by the countries of the dispair. It is my honest contribution.

The city of São Paulo plays an important role, a kind of powerplant in Babe, Terror music. From Teghnojoyg, Claudio concluded that São Paulo is an extension of other places and cities around the world.

Speaking of cities that appear and disappear, Gaza completely changed my body, my mind, my synthesis of what the world is and what my history is, including as a Jew. I became sick. I became another person. I found myself in existencial oddity with my ancestors and old family myths, the first generation of São Paulo zionists. I am very ashamed of the Zionist project, and I think there is a deep analysis to be done about the intertwining between Gaza and the Brazilian periphery. In Brazil, and more specifically, in São Paulo peripheries and slums, people die for the same reasons. For being poor, for trespassing on territories reserved for richer people. In a certain way, I think that music and art serve to make the path less painful, and minds more capable of composing a personal destiny that can be both tender and guerrilla. A destiny that can be adventurous and possessed of an anti-capitalist sanity. Let's say, a kind of sanity that, though facing the pain, is powerful in healing. I don't think I can compose outside of that logic anymore. I no longer compose without my own suffering and without the experience of the expectation of change. And I hope to compose for other sufferings, for people who ultimately need a certain ineffable openness. For people who need a kind of strange concreteness and unspoken magic-of-being-there that music can bring. In a way, I'm making music for my death, but also to not die, to perpetuate the music and the life in me. And it's a way of giving a gift to those who like my music, since I don't know how to do anything much better than that. I only have this to do until I'm no longer here, I think. But this heavy tone is not dramatic, it's not a dramatization. Although it sounds like that, I want it to last a long time yet. I'm not dying yet. But I like to think that the world can die and reborn, and will improve, and that I will leave here something of mine that was important to me.

Contemplating works in their deepest and most revealing form is no longer a pleasure much encouraged in the world now. There is an effort to superficialize experiences, and there is a robotic, algorithmic outsourcing of what should be experienced. There is less research and less connection, as if the works were just a small relief in the face of the psychological suffering that capitalism imposes. A support and a safe haven between one journey of suffering and another. And there is also a collectionist hypertrophy. There is a lot available and a desire to relate superficially to a lot. But these are reality solid aspects. Aspects from the general spirit of the experienced time. On the other hand, and thinking collaterally about how to deal with this reality and reconnect it in another possible sphere, what I propose: I use music, making and listening, as a key to altering this psychological suffering. So I think about setting up places, life zones, ports, that are really and materially powerful in generating happiness and healing. I try to make and extremize, perhaps, the use of art as a key to redemption from capitalist mental suffering. I propose that listeners actually come in and be absorbed and generate complete escapes with my music. If the world asks for this, perhaps this is what I can give with the maximum strength I can. I try to take it to a certain extreme, a terminal point. That's what I try. And the hypertrophied collecting part, maybe I'd also try to take it to a limit. Perhaps unconsciously, I arrange and rearrange a considerable part of the world of instruments in my new compositions. There are a lot of things created, recreated and related to each other there, in the compositions. As if with music I was trying to propose a unique encounter of all the things that I think are potentially capable of transforming, in conjunctions, the psychic experience. A collection aimed at the encounters that seduce me. And aimed at seducing and satisfying the escape needs of people who like what I do. In this sense, it is difficult not to think about non-extended works.

With thanks to Joana Santos.

[longformeditions]

LE158 Water Damage Reel LE 16.10.24

Drones are a powerful force, capable of whisking our thinking mind far, far, away. Austin-based collective Water Damage yields the same power whenever they pick up their instruments. Veterans from other projects (a.o. Spray Paint, Black Eyes, Swans, USA/Mexico, More Eaze and more), the band is not unfamiliar with the unshakeable power of music; still, as Water Damage, they stretch out drone’s possibilities to their limits, bowing to the principle Maximal Repetition Minimal Deviation. Once an idea takes off, they pursue it forever; as Pitchfork said, their 2024 double LP In E doubles as a “glorious mind eraser”.

Artist notes: The approach serves as a structure upon / through which the wind can blow - and to move between these things. It’s going headfirst into something both held and impossible to hold.

As with most Water Damage music, Reel LE is an attempt to contrast how much syncopation (drums) and movement (bass) we could use against a steady drone (stringed instruments), and how that juxtaposition affects one's aural focus over an extended period of time. There are motifs and rhythms to hold onto, but also floating ephemeral sounds, voices that come out of the combination of tones everyone is playing, a sort of waveform detritus. An opportunity to lose focus and look through. An intro to a song that never starts. An outro to a song that never ends. Intent receding into the music and just letting go.

Durational music involves an alternative timespace… a lost sense of the minutes or hours that typically organize the day. Given that all of our performances/recordings land somewhere between 20 and 30 minutes, a particular piece at a particular time can feel to go by faster or slower than that. – Travis Austin

For this recording Water Damage is Mari Maurice, Thor Harris, Nate Cross, Danielle Moran, George Dishner, Travis Austin, Mike Kanin, Greg Piwonka and Jeff Piwonka.

Engineered by Max Deems at Diseased Tapes Billion Dollar Studio. Mixed and Mastered by Travis Austin.

[longformeditions]

LE157 Eli Winter Ghost Notes 16.10.24

Eli Winter is a composer, self-taught guitarist, essayist, and Houston native. His music synthesizes aspects of folk, rock, jazz, and devotional music, maintaining a waggish disregard for genre constraints emblematic of Chicago, his adopted hometown. Across five LPs and counting for labels like Three Lobed and American Dreams, the scope of his music has grown to include guitar soli, instrumental duets, and bandleading. He’s collaborated with a wide range of artists live and on record, including Yasmin Williams, jaimie branch, Caroline Rose, David Grubbs, Cameron Knowler, Asher White and Ryley Walker, and leads a trio featuring Chicago musicians Sam Wagster (pedal steel guitar) and Tyler Damon (drums).

Artist notes: Ghost Notes emerged by accident. Part of the irony is that, from a material perspective, this music to some degree stems from circumstances that one would generally expect to be creatively enervating, but that inadvertently imposed productive restrictions on the music. Last January I led a quintet in two days of recording sessions at Electrical Audio. In a desperate attempt to satisfy a sudden critical change to a grant project, Andrew Khedoori and I had half-seriously hatched an organizing concept for the music I’d make. Several months before, walking around Queens Park in Glasgow, an offhand idea emerged for a record in which I’d write, facilitate and arrange music for an ad hoc ensemble, then pull my own contributions out and allow what was left to stand. For some reason, the music of Natural Information Society, a singular Chicago band whose work I adore (and by work I mean not just music, but work), was my frame of reference. When Andrew and I first discussed the project, as we talked about music we loved, we both, out of love, blurted out “Natural Information Society” at almost exactly the same time. What I had to do was clear.

My mission had become to reverse-engineer their music. How I thought I’d accomplish this is outside the purview of this writing. What you hear today stems from my failure to execute my original ideas. For reasons too many and varied to expand upon here, I had the luxury of sitting with the music for the better part of a year: three hours and ten minutes’ worth from the sessions alone. It stumped me. I simply didn’t know what to do. For months all I had to console myself was the comfort of two running titles that turned me into a giggle factory: “Ode to Bud Adams’ Rotting Corpse” and “Natural Imitation Society”. Eventually I moved through an intense depression I could describe as at best thematically relevant. And then, by circumstance, by virtue of the unconscious work communicating to me what the music wanted to be, as I moved outside of the depression and stepped gingerly back into my life, the music arrived. It had everything it needed from itself. It just needed my attention.

At the moment, the most I can say is that, without realizing it, I was effectively sampling myself and the music of my ad-hoc ensemble. What lineage do I have for this? Too many bar mitzvah parties. From Houston, the band Culturcide’s record Tacky Souvenirs of Pre-Revolutionary America, and from Chicago, the recent work of Anteloper, Makaya McCraven, and the International Anthem label. But none of these are direct influences on the music (except the bar mitzvah parties). Beyond the prerequisite of the work, as always, holding my interest and having the desired emotional effects on me, I wasn’t looking for anything. It found me. It arrived.

The title comes from a phrase I heard from my dear friend and bandmate Tyler Damon. Tyler was telling me about a bell ensemble he plays in with Janet Bean and Michael Zerang. Zerang would talk about the importance of ghost notes, silent notes as you ring the bells (or something like that). In last January’s recording sessions, Cooper Crain, brilliant recording engineer, had worked hard to isolate every instrument within the studio space so the music could move outside of linear time. Unavoidably, naturally, as is the nature of recording, there’s bleed in all these odd places. And it comes out in the music, as you might have already noticed. The music, I hope, integrates the bleed within itself, but the bleed can’t go away. In the same way as, because of the lack of isolation, there are some notes that aren’t supposed to be there, but they’re there anyway, and you just have to work with them, so, too, trauma, whatever it is, for anyone who has it, and that learning to live with it as best one can is preferable to the alternative, where it comes out in ways you maybe don’t mean or recognize or want, but it haunts you.

I hope for this music to further develop into an LP. Thank you for listening, sharing, believing, and helping that process along. Eli Winter: production/beats, samples (of past releases, concerts, rehearsals + recording sessions), acoustic guitars (6- and 12-string), electric guitar, piano, harmonium, vocals Andrew Scott Young: upright bass Gerrit Hatcher: tenor saxophone Jonathan Gardner: drums Sam Wagster: pedal steel guitar Tyler Damon: drums

Tracked by Cooper Crain at Electrical Audio, Chicago, January 2023 / by Will Stanton at 411 Kent, Brooklyn, January 2023 / at Public Records, Brooklyn, September 2023 / various phone recordings at home in Chicago, 2023 / samples from The Time To Come (Worried Songs, 2020 / Blue Hole, 2019).

Mixed by Mark Yoshizumi.

Thank you to the City of Chicago’s Department of Cultural Affairs and Special Events, who allowed me to discover what the music needed from me. This music comes from their material support, which funded two days of work at Electrical Audio, payment for those sessions to Cooper Crain, Sam Wagster, Tyler Damon, Gerrit Hatcher and Andrew Scott Young, and payment to Mark Yoshizumi for mixing. It also comes from the Luminarts Cultural Foundation and Ox-Bow, who allowed me to reflect on how this music had developed, and from the particular kindness, gregariousness and patience of Andrew Khedoori, who watched and offered support as this music shepherded me through a wilderness. Special thanks to those who worked with me at Electrical Audio, who trust fell with me for two long, cold days, to David Watson and Will Stanton for allowing me to record at Shift and Sruly Lazaros for the same at Public Records, and to Mark Yoshizumi, who not only mixed this difficult project efficiently and with care, but literally gave me the shirt out of his drawer when I was in need. Mikel Patrick Avery gave kind, generative advice early in the process. Rian Bobbitt-Chertock not only shared their characteristic grace and lifted my spirits inarticulably, but connected me with Kashika Kollaikal, who provided me with music of her own that gave this music perspective and blew it wide open. Jordan Reyes gave me a spare license of Ableton Live 10 to work in, among many other intangible things, which made this music possible. All sorts of friends whom I admire—including but not limited to Annelyse Gelman, Sruly Lazaros, Luke Sutherland, Abbie Minard, Eli Schmitt, Asher White, Izzy Fradin, Ben Lasky, Gabe Barrón, Cyrus Pacht, JB Hunter, Daniel Bachman, David Grubbs, Sam Wagster, Tyler Damon, Meg Fahy, Jesse Stein, Jonathan Gardner, Ryley Walker, Walker Landgraf, Rachel Winter, Erez Dessel, David Sexton—helped me move through the work and dark stretches. I’m very grateful to my friend Nathan Comer for our friendship and work together. As part of the engine for an unexpected, serendipitous friendship, an offhand remark from Eileen Myles helped me more than they know. Dust and Kate Reid, …by their individual and collective examples. And to Joshua Abrams, who helped me plant the seed.

[longformeditions]

LE156 Seaworthy & Matt Rösner Bundanon 14.08.2024

Seaworthy is the conduit for Sydney-based instrumentalist and sound artist Cameron Webb. His music is built around melodic looped guitars and textural drones inspired by, and infused with, the incidental sounds of local ecosystems.

Matt Rösner is a sound artist from regional Western Australia. He works with an organic sense of space and time constructed using various acoustic instruments, custom build software patches and detailed field recording studies. He aims to produce an immersive listening space for reflection and quiet mediation. Seaworthy and Matt Rösner have previously collaborated on three recordings that have been released by New York based label,12k. As a duo they have performed live on both the east and west coasts of Australia.

Artist notes: For Bundanon, we worked with environmental and instrumental sounds recorded and composed during a week-long residency at Bundanon Art Gallery and wildlife sanctuary. Gifted to the Australian public by Arthur Boyd and his wife Yvonne, Bundanon, is a creative place for artists to immerse themselves in a truly distinctive landscape on the New South Wales South Coast.

Bundanon is the result of instrumental improvisations in response to time spent in the surrounding local environment. The Musicians Hut sits within Boyd’s property, enclosed by the area’s breathtaking vistas and natural soundscapes. Recordings from local bushland and river formed a foundation for twin looped guitars intertwined and overlapped in happy accidents of synchronicity and asynchronous friction. The session was informed by discussions of the ever encroaching urbanisation into the surrounding pristine environments. Even refuges such as the Bundanon property are still susceptible to the buzz of human activity, however distant, infiltrating the sounds of local wildlife and environment. This human encroachment can be disorientating, a disruptor of the natural ebb and flow of the soundscapes of the bushland and riverine habitats. This natural ebb and flow, the sounds and textures made by wind and tide, insects and birds, was front of mind when performing and constructing the material presented in Bundanon.

Lengthy music compositions provide opportunities to discover subtle elements of sound that can present themselves, only through deep, focus, or repeated listing. Sometimes these elements are half imagined or generated by circumstances of the individuals' listening experience. Whether on headphones or speakers, revisiting lengthy compositions can present and inspire new ideas or interpretations of the compositions. Tracking these changes can be like noticing new landmarks on a well worn route of a commute. Aspects passed, hardly noticed for dozens of journeys can be revealed unexpectedly. A pleasant surprise to catch something that had slipped past unnoticed on so many previous listens. There’s the mediative aspects too. Allowing the recordings to wash over you, even if more passively absorbing them, can be therapeutic.

The artists acknowledge the Dharawal and Dhurga people as the traditional custodians of the land on which these recordings were made and inspired. We pay our respect to Elders past, present and emerging.

All instruments, field recordings, composition and engineering: Cameron Webb and Matt Rösner. This work was originally produced in collaboration with the Art Gallery of New South Wales for Volume 2024.

[longformeditions]

LE155 amby downs garrawang + biderap: black field cricket mating song 14.08.2024

amby downs is the musical pseudonym of interdisciplinary artist Tahlia Palmer, whose work explores; history, identity, connection to Country through layers of distorted noise, cavernous reverberations, abstracted and found images, and field recordings.

Artist notes: I started with the idea of invitation and intrigue. With these words in mind, I imagined what it would be like for visitors to AGNSW to walk through transition spaces. I was on Wurundjeri Woi Wurrung biik, the hot dry season had just finished, and during that time i captured various recordings of black field crickets making their mating songs, invitations for members of their species to come check them out, see if they’re agreeable to creating another generation together. When I made the recordings, I was relieved to be experiencing warm weather, and i was relieved to learn that the crickets are a native species. I was relieved that they had the opportunity to thrive and expand their genetic diversity, and I was relieved to feel held by Country. I pulled together these recordings, many of which featured bird song, snippets from the radio, sounds of my movements around the house, and spent hours sitting with them, listening, shaping and building something that is reflective of my need for groundedness, to communicate something to that effect to the audience. listening is a practice, and it leads to increased knowledge – about the environment you're in, about one’s self, and the interconnectedness of all things. As with all of my longform works, I find the creation process highly regulating; my fragile nervous system soothed when I work through what the sounds together mean to me, what order can be found in chaos. Loops of differing lengths cycle through and around each other, transporting the listener out of themselves and in to a way of perceiving World as that which is more than what we could ever understand within the confines of western societal norms. Grief and melancholy are woven in to this this work, created during a time when the world’s most brutal horrors are present every day in front of my eyes despite being thousands of kilometres away. The meditation in this work is one that rests on a deep longing for peace, for liberation. The invitation from the crickets is one to live in balance.

This work was originally produced in collaboration with the Art Gallery of New South Wales for Volume 2024.

[longformeditions]

LE154 Steve Gunn Clean Floor 14.08.2024

Steve Gunn is a New York-based guitarist and songwriter. With a career spanning nearly fifteen years, Steve has produced volumes of critically acclaimed solo, duo, and ensemble recordings on labels such as Matador Records, Three Lobed Recordings, Paradise of Bachelors, and RVNG. His albums represent milestones of contemporary guitar-driven material, and forward thinking songwriting. Steve has steadily processed his inspirations into a singular, virtuosic stream. Close listening reveals the influence of blues, folk, ecstatic free jazz, and psych in his continually unfolding output.

Artist notes: I hope this track can conjure up some kind of peaceful trajectory.

Recorded in Dumbo, Brooklyn January 2024 by Steve Gunn.