In 1976, composer Mort Garson released Mother Earth’s Plantasia, an album of early electronic ditties designed to help listeners’ house plants grow. Though its horticultural facility is questionable, it became a cult classic among record collectors, beloved for its sweet, jaunty music as much as its concept. Propagation is also the raison d’être of Music to Watch Grow Seeds By, a new cassette label that pairs a packet of seeds with a release. For its second instalment, the delphinium elatum takes centre stage, providing the inspiration and part of the production process for Pittsburgh-based sound artist Davis Galvin, who used the perennial’s lilac petals to make marks that then formed part of a score.
Joining the dots between ambient, new age and dub, Prism is a slow-building, meditative record that ebbs and flows without pause, more soundscape than standalone tracks. But an uncanniness lies beneath the calm. Opener Sipes’ Vista hinges on a deep, oscillating synth lead, which builds into a tangle of mutating low-end frequencies. The subterranean flurry comes to a head on the second track, Humidity 14, where hissing static cuts through the atmospheric textures. Later, it’s more subtle: a loungy guitar riff in Grasshopper (Solo) is scattered with barely audible mutterings, weird glitches and found sounds from walks around California and Mexico City. The dissonant layers add a disorienting edge to an otherwise soporific listen.
About halfway through, the tension subsides and the record truly shines. The title track is blissful, all shimmering pads, trickling percussion and pitched-up vocals, while standout Marine Layer hints at woozy Balearic sunsets. It sets the tone for shuffling, dubbed-out closer Naming It. Stretching luxuriously over 10 minutes, and sitting somewhere between headphones-listening and after-hours club material, it’s a strong introduction to Galvin’s shape-shifting oeuvre.
Also out this month
Written to accompany an immersive film installation, Conducturis (Cortizona), by Belgian composer Dienne, is an enchanting journey through sweeping classical instrumentation, choral vocals and glitching electronics inspired by the strange overlap of natural and technological elements found in Swiss landscapes. Wandering between huge swathes of noise and moments of eerie quiet, it feels expansive and intimate. Solstice Concert (Leaving Records) is a secretly taped live recording of Fabiano do Nascimento and collaborators marking the 2023 astronomical calendar shift. Featuring seven originals and a sauntering cover of Hermeto Pascoal’s Feijoada, it’s lovely and wildly joyous, thanks to sprightly sax trills, frenetic percussion and traces of artificial birdsong. More suited to dingy improv venues than midsummer gatherings is The End II (Macadam Mambo) by Berlin-based producer and O Tannenbaum head honcho Pieter Kock: a mind-boggling collection where chugging instrumental loops are spliced with sirens, clattering percussion and stray vocals to create hypnotic, downtempo dancefloor freakouts.
• Experimental album of the month is a new monthly column written by Safi Bugel
• This article was amended on 24 January 2025 to correct the name of Music to Watch Seeds Grow By.
