Enchanted, ethereal voices echo the vibe of a folk horror film, flick. Shouts and cries coming from somewhere deep within a moonlight-bathed Brothers Grimm fairytale forest. There`s a chorus of wordless chanting. A cello is scratched, slowly bowed, teased, if not tortured. Its emissions stretched into an accompanying wall of synthetic screams. Spinning a storm, a symphony of spirits, swirling. Like the score of an extracted confession, some cult confidence. A terrible truth, such as Arcadia`s “endless”. Sharp string strokes add drama, tension, urgency. The vibrations amplified into canon fire thunder, distorted into discordant, fractured, disintegrating fanfares. A raw guttural growl. The drums begin as a heartbeat, the pulse of something primal. Not prowling but watching, waiting in shadow. The machined music mimicking nocturnal wildlife whoops – metallic tones trumpeting like mammoths, an elephant’s roar. Aping free-jazz`s spiritual sax skronk. Listening, it`s as if you’ve stumbled upon a wild witching hour ritual. Suffering, in the throws of, a strong psychedelic flashback to a shamanic rite of peyote passage. Picturing a secret ceremony punctuated by timpani punches, which increase in force and interval, until they dominate the soundtrack. Sirens suddenly sounding, as if under attack – a reminder of man-made terrors, and 3-minute warnings – before falling to a wounded calm. An aftermath of rubble and remains. 

Resina`s new set, Speechless, is totally cinematic, story-telling, acting, effectively, as a show-reel. The composer / musician conjuring considerable magick from primarily cello, choir, and electronics. Demonstrating just what she’s capable of. That said, the percussion is important. Its  tribal tattoo, in places, hammering out a ramshackle funk and voodoo. The combination of loping wooden rhythms and eerie treated vocals – their unsettling inhuman, supernatural, vibrato – synced in heavy spell-like incantation. The overall air one of menace. The collected pieces packing the promise of something unseen, something fucking large, and pissed off, approaching in the dark. Something scary. Something wicked, something marvelously unsettling and malevolent, this way comes. 

Resina recorded Speechless in collaboration with Gdansk`s 23-piece 441 Hz choir, calling on additional able assistance from Mateusz Rychlicki (drums), Magdalena Gajdzica (flute), Michal Fojcik (field recording, sound design), Michal Kupicz & Daniel Rejmer (mixing, production). Together they take traditional, orchestral, instruments to primitive, vital, unpredictable places. The album is out this Friday, November 19th, on 130701.