Spike Field delicately holds Oakland artist Maria BC’s deep psyche to a candle, coaxing a wordless realm. Cradled within nostalgic, lullaby-like melodies and poetics, and haunted by a charmingly out-of-tune Steinway, the folk soundscape shimmers distinctly through fragments of shattered glass and mirrors reflecting past selves.

Released by New York’s Sacred Bones Records, the album is deceptively “pretty.” What appears to be a series of gorgeous, flowery vignettes is actually sharp to the touch

Anguish is set to a low simmer; tendrils of mind tenaciously grasp onto depression’s relentless waves. On Beyond the Reach of Light, Drew Zercoe (as Field of Fear) hones in on the duality of (dis)comfort that occurs when stuck in a state of throbbing numbness. And how in the depths of depression, you find yourself swimming in a different kind of reality soup. Its industrial noisescape shrouds the head in an all-consuming fog. Pain and numbness bubble and shift strategically between harmful and seemingly harmless guises, overwhelm followed by paradoxical bliss— and you realize you have forgotten to breathe.

Beyond the Reach of Light maintains listenability through moments of respite in tracks like “Cold” and “Lost,” and its swift transitions between tracks. No extent of this harrowing valley is left unhaunted. All emotion is left out in its rawest, least symbolic form—and where no language can interfere.

Swim Domain, the new EP by Later Version (Oakland’s DJML & Jerod S. Rivera) on London label Third Place, accomplishes a whimsically imagined interpretation of oceanic allure. Delicate polyrhythms drizzle from the sky onto brush-stroked waters. Through the deceptively consistent surface, there is something resembling an emerald algae undergrowth, revealing an ecosystem rife with shimmery, rumbling life. The whole scene’s a little bizarre though, as attention turns to the occasional clamoring metal. Linger a little longer above the kelp forest that stretches deep below into some abstract abyss, where you may catch a glimpse of creatures flaunting a more mechanical nature, their hearts beating to the sound of their own mechanical drum. Sea bass powered by gears for fins? Magical (hyper)realism sonically realized.

The EP also includes a remix of the title track Jacktone co-owner, Dark Entries and Tartelet Records affiliate, and Beats Unlimited member Doc Sleep.

Amma Ateria’s CONCUSSSSION I is an ongoing experimental sound project that explores the question: “How does one’s process of recovery from trauma in the present moment shift the effects of past / present stress, oppression, dislocation, and collective trauma?”

Stemming from Ateria’s recovery from a traumatic head injury in June 2021, the piece delves into the artist’s experiences of neurological disorientation, states of consciousness and unconsciousness, altered speech, and isolation, among others. This deeply visceral and evolving ambient composition was showcased at the SF Electronic Music Festival at The Lab in 2022, where I was lucky enough to witness how these sounds are carefully crafted, and her ability to imitate the construction and deconstruction of reality in real time. Released on Dragon’s Eye Recordings, you can now experience this incredibly moving and transformative work for yourself.

Tomu DJ’s latest release If You’re So Cool, How Come No One Likes You? could easily soundtrack some cozy pixellated universe. The opening tracks “Dirt,” “Stylism,” and “Exposure” in particular evoke a kind of organic imagery, despite their unmistakably electronic sources. Perhaps a portal emerges from freshly moistened earth, or a constellation of firefly lights tinkle out of tune with a steady stream of dream-consciousness. A buzz of dragonflies may keep each other company by a bubbling creek, while whimsical forest creatures observe curiously from nearby trees. And after being out and about in the big, big world outside, the sleepy adventurer retreats to their “Shallow Ending” cavern-home—or a cave of their own making—to hibernate, to keep safe and hidden from the glaring eyes of the world.

Like most music swimming about the nebulous drone-ambient pool, Polarity by William Ryan Fritch is a slow burn. But worth it. It’s the first segment of a triad narrating fervent commentaries on climate disaster. The complex sonic textures are slow to melt and compound, but inevitable; throughout the course of the album, the dangerous rise of the tide can no longer be ignored. As for the sound design, WRF’s creative use of electro-acoustic technology communicates the direness of climate (in)action today: “…[T]he utilization of hydrophones, ceramic PZM mics and unique contact mic setups […] capture these sounds in a way that let him feel and see the vibration, resonance and energy from these circuits.” It’s this quality that makes this piece so exceptionally tactile. Impressively, he’s able to convey the magnificence and beauty of something that is also so devastating and destructive, and held in precarious balance. An omen pointing to the (un)refinement of (our) decline.

Neoclassical meets the famed Buchla Music Easel in Beau Sorenson’s Indifference Will Devour You. True to his alias, “Beaunoise” knows how to deliver a beautiful ambient soundscape: Imagine a tender moment captured on film, with the opening melody of “Almost Transparent Blue” enveloping like a secret lover’s embrace during a catnap. The window is open just enough for a light breeze to ruffle the sheer curtain’s stagnancy. And just as your ears settle into the late afternoon sun, half awake and half asleep, Sorenson transports the dream into the outerworlds of deep space.

Bay Area-based musician Mike Cadoo (and “owner operator” of one of my favorite Bay Area labels n5MD) released The Dissolution of Recall, an aural immersive meditation on Alzheimer’s. 11 distinct tracks of cathartic drone create a portal into Cadoo’s attempt to understand the magnitude of his father’s experience: “Confusion and memory loss are well-known issues among people that suffer from neurodegenerative diseases; however, anxiety, frustration, anger, and, most importantly, fear are some of the more enormous hurdles; this makes The Dissolution of Recall somewhat of a challenging listen. I wanted to honor my father by touching as best I could the view from his eyes.” A beautiful offering and resonant balm to anyone who may need this album in their life right now.

Premiered in 2017, turntable drawing no. 16 is a fascinating, contemporary classical piece by Giacomo Fiore, Danny Clay, and Jon Fischer that “combines three turntables playing locked-groove records with a score for electric guitar featuring looped chordal fragments.” The atmospheric effect of this is surprisingly tactile: Buzzing, crackling vinyl brings the warmth of an ambient sunrise, while electric guitar disrupts the deceptively serene soundscape and musters its own pleasant welcome. You can experience it live at the turntable drawing no. 16 album release party this Saturday at the Center for New Music, complete with live performance, a homemade record exhibit, and a most intriguing “turntable petting zoo.”

“Curiously elemental, the album unravels an orchestra of synth-etic and synesthetic threads, and reveals an uncanny constellation of the real and hyperreal.”

Delicate, lucid watercolor landscapes abound in Conrad Praetzel’s Adventures into Somethingness. Dreamy and mind-bendingly melty, it’s an ambient work to savor with a color palette you could almost taste; brightly colored sound textures pop like gusher candies with every track. Whether for mindful or mindless meditation, depending on your mental state, the album demonstrates what melodic ambient music is capable of—corralling chaotic neural connections to ground the self in the peaceful presence of just being. A pleasant accompaniment to napping in the afternoon light.

“The clash of sounds disturb at first, then climax into a cacophonous symphony– the sounds themselves are no longer singular subdivisions but render an eclectic patchworked landscape, revealing a gestalt much more than the sum of its craggy parts.”

"This is a poignant, mystical work that “alchemically” crafts sacred space for subtle mental transformations in the face of white supremacy and other forms of “American ugliness.” Compassionate and challenging, oozing and abrasive, St. Julien stitches together a luminescent auditory experience. The melodies and dissonances clash in both pleasant and uncomfortable ways."

"...what is immediately evident about his music is that much of his work embodies something more ethereal yet grounded in nature; it sits in an emotional space that is raw and immediate to the listener’s experience, but still distant enough to generate multiple interpretations."

"This album is atmospherically rich, building dramatic tension while also restoring energy. At times, "Virgo" can be strangely comforting, self-reflective, and utterly vulnerable."

The Lab recently hosted the 22nd Annual San Francisco Electronic Music Festival (SFEMF), bringing together a wide array of sonic palettes and performers, local and international, emerging and renowned alike. We make mention of two notable showings here, beginning with Roziht Eve, an SF-based Taiwanese American media composer, vocalist, multi-instrumentalist, and self-produced singer-songwriter.

Eve’s “Pneuma” is a piece she describes as a “leisurely stroll into one’s inner child.” But it’s no picnic. Roziht’s soft soprano voice, coupled with archetypal visuals by Santiago, lures the audience into a cryptic vault of introspection. Influences of Enya and Debussy are palpable. While lingering there, we watched as Rozhit confronted the initial apprehension of opening the vault. Exploring the depths of the psyche spiritually and ancestrally, “Pneuma” is a story of arriving at tender care for the most vulnerable inner self, a self that also extends to her own child. While watching an icy flower reconstruct itself on screen, Roziht’s six-year-old daughter’s voice emerges from the ethereal soundscape, anchoring us with wisdom from a surprising yet not so surprising source: “who are you? it’s me. you know me. i never left”

The second artist, re:VOLT, blew our intimate audience out of the water on the second day of the festival. This Los Angeles-based quartet (although only three members were present at SFEMF) identifies as “like-minded half-crazy avant-garde synthesists/composers/producers.” Their group is a dream come true. Firstly, their name is fun – I’m a sucker for wordplay. Secondly, bringing the 21st-century avant-garde technical prowess as well as a full-on band to Morton Subotnick’s 1971 composition “Sidewinder” was even more sonically punk and industrial than expected. re:VOLT’s metallic, fractal bassy sound palette throughout this set made for a playful take on what is already quirky computer music amidst a genre-expansive ‘70s ethos. I loved it, I would like to hear more like this.

Infinexhuma’s Denown blurs the boundary between our world and the next, leaving the veil almost irreparably thin. Snarling and oozing, the piece features drawn-out demonic drones, detoxifying the atmosphere of fear and desire with an immersive, healing sonic tonic, providing the kind of relief that can only be savored after going through an intense, soul-wrenching experience. The piece invites us to question whether unfamiliar territory is truly foreign, or if we are simply returning home to our authentic selves once the mask has dissolved. Are we truly so estranged from our demons?

Experience forbidden geometries that construct and deconstruct themselves in real time. Pleasant squelches and wobbles abound, apparently soundtracking the otherwise indescribable state of inter-dimensionality (or some other liminal space). Malleability is the name of the game here, as Colin Dyer plays with time like a particularly gummy play-dough, and asks: what could transpire when language and the fabric of time and space are pulled apart? A thrilling descent into noisy “IDM.”

Another Plane Beyond Empiricism is a gentle offering to past, present, and future selves; a yearning for groundedness, reconciliation, and peace of mind. Napa-based artist Radagast the Brown (aka Ezekiel James Hampton) imparts a complex mythos through this work: Foreign memories seep through consciousness from the interdimensional, rife with a nostalgia that isn’t necessarily your own.

The album is sensitively infused with 20th-century classical music motifs and recontextualized sacred choral textures as well as other experimental renderings of the human voice. Consequently, there is no one genre that can describe this work; just the comfort that comes from indulging the melancholic ache of human experience.

On first glance, the intriguing track titles possess their own luring power: “Succumbing to Forlorn Fantasies” and “A Single Stitch from the Knitting God” invite a curious and open mind, yet one that is unsure of what or whose dream it’ll wake up from once the piece is finished. These are tracks to savor intently so as not to forget them—like holding onto dreams that are about to dissolve, just before waking.