| br>Scy1e has all the Ciat, the Horaflora side is an electroacoustic ASMR sort of venture.
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"Raub Roy's decade-old project Horaflora raises questions of authenticity and perception. Cross the damn street already, you wooly-ear'd freak! Like that. Is someone prowling about the streets of the East Bay at 3 am because they want to capture unique spatial phenomenon with binaural recording gear? Or are they high and bored?
Well, you and I both know it doesn't make a difference. Highness and boredom are both the cause of, and the appreciation for, all of humanity's greatest leaps. Like watching Kasparov vs. Topalov 1999 re-enacted by Chuck E. Cheese animatronics, “Body Lag (ASMR)” simultaneously activates multiple unconnected brain lobes.
Being a casual juxtaposition of close-mic'd piano guts, spacial field recordings, and direct electronics - disparate times call for disparate measures - “Body Lag” spins multiple loci in a phantasmagorical blender. Stereo, binaural, and hard-panned mono environments meet each other on the common ground of your hi-fi speakers, not in some glossy 3D imitation of life. Rejoice in the purely artificial space! Whirling bodies, at first seemingly oblivious to each others' existence, gradually fall into orbit. Like twins from different species in a galaxy rife with riff-raff, a synthesized moon finishes the sentence begun by a vibrating fork. Raining shards of neon-colored plastic become glistening synthesized cackles before they land. Wine bottles drunk on their own contents cavort in a mauve field while
Oh, so soon? Be a dear, would you, and flip the tape for me? No, I can't, the cat's on my lap. Yes, I could have turned it on, but that crummy auto-reverse mechanism is so loud, it always scares the cat. Then she gets up and I could go flip the tape myself but there's no use, the auto-reverse already did that, and ruined our reverie in the process. Trust me, it's better this way. My experience remains intact.
Raub Roy's months-old project Scy1e raises septuplets of multi-glott'd children into a loving, nurturing home. Multitudes of matronly synths purr and coo with the slow pulse of resting breath, as pre-language vocals languidly weave through the air. Not for this home are the violent, sharp corners of cut-ups; instead, words move and morph with the glandular flow of amniotic fluid.
“Leint”'s samplers act as an auditory Silly Putty, pulling the suavest Cary Grant pillow talk into a Mr. Magoo taffy. Meanwhile, far from the funny pages, swathes of hiss act as a paternal editorial statement. “Hull Hpnd” bounces colorful balls of synthesized pleasure like Francois Bayle playing catch with his kid in the back yard, tossing iridescent sound forms to and fro. By the time we're through, the oozing phonology of “Resined” has almost learned to create sentences.
Eventually, I'm sure at least one of these seven little scamps will grow up to don fuzzy headphones, taking to the nighttime streets to record unsung urban mechanical ephemera. Hey, you just turned the auto-reverse back on, didn't you?"
- Chris Cooper
releases September 25, 2017
Sound recorded by Raub Roy, 2015-2017 in Oakland, CA.
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