Some artists require a sure measure of distance to thrive. That’s the case for Ukraine’s Ganna Bryzhata, aka Bryozone. She’s greatest often known as the bassist of Chillera, a trio of dub aficionados who developed a gently psychedelic type of area rock of their adopted hometown of Odesa, a port metropolis on the Black Sea. The three as soon as thought-about shifting to Kyiv however in the end determined that life within the capital wasn’t for them: “It’s great to come for a while, to feel the active movement, but it sucks up the energy,” they advised an interviewer in 2019. “You need to be more self-organized to live there. We are still not able to bring this chaos to order.” You’ll be able to hear that refusal to adapt to the rhythms of the massive metropolis of their instrumentals, during which Afrobeat basslines and surf licks churn as blithely because the tide, unconcerned with something past sustaining the breezy vibe.
An identical sense of willful isolation characterizes Bryozone. Bryzhata’s solo music is a world away from Chillera’s, buying and selling their heat blues riffs and wah-wah twang for ethereal loops and icy, atonal drones. However each tasks share a timeless high quality. Chillera’s information sound like they’ve spent many years gathering mould in some beachside neighborhood thrift retailer; Bryozone’s output would possibly conceivably have been rescued from the flooded basement of a mid-century tape-music studio. Maybe much more than Chillera, Bryozone is bubble music, promising an insular journey into interior area.
Bryozone’s music has modified significantly since her first two EPs, 2013’s ACID FROG DAY and Ifrit. The place these information remained tethered to acquainted strains of lo-fi techno and ambient dub, Eye of Delirious, her debut LP, leaves such recognizable terrain within the rear-view mirror. Throughout 10 diversified tracks, Bryzhata explores a collection of mysterious, shape-shifting visions that really feel conjured out of skinny air—not a lot the merchandise of silicon and circuits because the phantasmal afterimages of lysergic desires.
The ocean’s rhythms maintain sway over the opening tracks. “Smoothly Flow” channels tidal rhythms right into a swirl of watery synths and foghorn drones—loops upon loops upon loops, submerged in a thick, grainy paste of tape hiss. It’s eerie and emotionally clean, equally conducive to beatific calm and deep melancholy. “Sub Nautica” pairs a plodding 4/4 pulse and muted dub bass with rolling waves of synth; the affect of dub—a music of ocean currents and cultural alternate—speaks, maybe, to Odesa’s historic identification as a mercantile metropolis. “Ghost Tribe” and “Liminal Tribe” spin hand percussion by way of eerie tape results, turning pitter-pat rhythms into insect chirps and alien soundscapes; they evoke the work of Jan Jelinek, Andrew Pekler, and Muscut label head Nikolaienko, who equally have reexamined classic ethnographic phonography by way of an experimental electroacoustic lens.