Dolibox finally decides to chill (as proven by the cover picture) and goes for something more atmospheric than his usual skitzo cut-up techniques from his years with Karat, which doesnt keep some of the numbers of this collection from being hard bangers: quite the thing to consider, given the dreamy quality of most of the sounds throughout the ride. (Alien) dance music from the depths of space, and a welcome change of pace for sure.

A collection of chill, short eclectic bits somewhat reminiscent of Alanski's 'Les Yeux Crevés'. These wordless compositions speak -somehow- of beauty, sorrow and discovery, as if conveying a story of sorts, which goes to prove how the man behind them still retains his abilities to craft unlived memories and emotions through music. Special stuff for sure, a good pick for a meditative afternoon. But be wary, because the hills might be burning after all.

Quite the trip. Whilst melodies throughout the album don't have as much to say as the later work from the artist, the sharper production edges overall keep the surprises coming, even if one is already familiar with the body of work of Mr. Nika. Abstract electronics, hints of the romantics, pure raw energy.

Completely taken by this. Out of the uneven minimalist techno weirdness expected from the artist shine exquisite passages of pure mental beauty which still manage to avoid straightforwardness somehow. This is how you make groovy, uplifting and weird dance music. 'There We Were' speaks to me as nothing else i've heard in quite a while, and every other track goes for something of its own, and i love it all. In one word: dope, as hell.

Repetitive techno beats being laid down among brief, almost abstract snippets of old rhythms and voices: feeling is somewhat bleak, beats are still inviting, and the voices speak of past, now extinct, good times. Brinkmann took the soul away from these, in what is surely an unique mix.

Another sonic monster of which only this artist is capable of. Formless, menacing, noisy and beautiful in the most unexpected ways. Im glad to check that Beridze is pushing her artistry even further with these, into such a territory that only leaves one wanting to see what is it going to morph into, next. Heart, mind and soul, memories even, looking for a body: distorted voices, echoes and fragments of melody looking for a genre.

True story: i stole my brother's CD copy of this one and showed it around to my classmates, the day i stole it, before taking it home, telling them it was the dopest stuff ever. I felt as if i were holding a precious little secret, unkown to them: they didnt buy it, probably because of the silly bunny on the cover. Now i'll have it LP sized!

It doesnt really resolve, just as promises do. Bless Mr. Sanders.

This record and its disparate extremes between bliss and weird made such an impact on my life i cannot help but to hail it as one of the most unique musical surprises i've ever found. It definitely challenged and ultimately changed my understandings of what electronic music could be. A true trip, still so unique and wonderful to this day.

My copy finally arrived; i got a postcard with a cathedral on it. Somehow strangely fitting for such ominous, bouncy techno stravaganza. Session three takes the heaviest bass prize. Cubo has done it again!

How come this overly abstract collection of sound passages made out of distorted guitars and echoey synths retains such a strong evocative, emotional feel to it is beyond me. I'd like to get trapped sometime in whatever kind of broken elevator this was supposedly inspired by. A whole galaxy on the backside of the album cover on which all of this happens. Cosmic.
(As usual with you...) Am i supposed to have a laugh at it, or to think about it? Both, probably?

Everything Mr. O'Brien has produced is bliss in some way, so grabbing a whole collection of his vinyl only tunes sounds like an amazing idea. Final unreleased track The Magician is the kind of sensual, dreamy tribal jazz-dance anthem any good music lover would be a sucker for.