The mysterious Abul Mogard – is he a Serbian ex-steel worker, or an alias of Norm Chambers? – takes the dive-bombing bowed arcs of Resina`s Trigger and stretches them into a near subliminal symphonic eleven minute drone. Throughout its duration there`s the sense of a storm, a rage, a fury, gathering.
Resina`s label-mate Ian William Craig feeds In In through his custom array of cassette decks. Upping its melancholy from sighing to sobbing. The sound of Resina`s cello disintegrating as if torn by the rush of time. Craig`s choirboy trapped in there somewhere. Like a loop locked in stone tape.
Ben Frost’s rework of the same track begins with the original’s tribal timpani, and amplifies its strings into a howl. Before sucking them backwards in sub-bass shudders. The resulting arrhythmia beating a melody of broken music box chimes. Resina`s vocal, once angelic, multi-tracked and ethereal, now a gated ghost. Both epic and emotive, this should be the score to something cinematic.
Texan Lotic also dismantles In In, and re-builds it as busy clockwork. A construct of a fragile beauty which recalls the sonic landscapes of Icelanders Mum, and Bjork. Electronic yet somehow organic. Lotic coincidently having remixed Notget from Bjork`s 2015 LP, Vulnicura. The Berlin-based artist`s own productions turn modern R&B inside out. Like a collab between Fly-Lo and Yves Tumor. In Lotic`s hands In In becomes a tiny Ai animal. Sentient, clicking, and clattering. Ringing with myriad micro-movements. Techno but Folk. A dark fairy-tale re-telling of Resina`s already enchanted pagan place.
You can order a copy of Resina`s Traces Remixes directly from 130701.