"Tape noise and manipulation parts enough to reveal a man’s voice, talking in a language other than English, cutting in and out of static, electrical storms. Sorry I can’t get more “impressionistic,” my brain’s been in pretty close to a neutral state lately, not really prone to imaginative flights of fancy, maybe I’m not drinking enough water? But yeah like we’re hearing a broadcast from planet of impassive talk, besieged by electrical storms. The voice itself seeming only to conjure descriptions of mechanical processes, like a voice you can imagine describing the patch bay of machines and energy flow capable of disfiguring it now. Long enough to lay out a system whereby there could be a knob that makes its own voice feel farther away. I wish it would detail the code for how the old Mimaroglu site would conjure combinations of italics and bold type seemingly randomly but to deliberate-seeming effect. But now the voice is gone. A sound deep and sustained enough to be a beat emerges, but at least at first with enough time between its reoccurrences to make me think about the sound a dying smoke alarm makes, where you can’t quite anticipate the next beat. Now static flutters fill in and we’re getting closer to the realm of music, and here that voice is again, still enough of an apparition to make me think about a night club without any people in it, but a smoke machine and green tinted lights. Have you ever had to clean up such a place, possibly hungover, afterwards, alone with thoughts of how you have to change your life? Of course you have. This is probably a long enough description for the necessary purposes though I am going to keep listening without recording my thoughts in real time. The thing about noise and its absence of harmony is it really makes you think about the distance in intervals between your own self and where you want to be, but you’re right here with it, somewhere in space." - Brian Nicholson
Art By Wilfred Wagner - KLD Repro in Copenhagen, DK

Vid Edda - Geneves Me Sansi