OTAD#56 - the Swedish king

Ohh yea bb, it’s ambient Sunday again! Time for some soothing drone to refocus your mind, recenter yourself before delving back into the stress of the work week. Today’s pick is from Abdulla Rashim, the ambient techno god, the Swedish shaman, master of the black art of producing cold, bleak ambient… shivering techno tracks. I have talked about him and his label Northern Electronics in length in my long-form already, but this is the first time I come back to his works in this OTAD series.

The selected track above is the first part of the recording of his live performance at Berlin Atonal in 2014. I bought this record in 2016, one of the first records to spin on the plate of my Audio Technica LP-120, the beautiful Technics MKII replica. I would put on the record, turn off the light, then lie down in my couch and let myself be surrounded with these beeping sounds, which almost sound like frogs, making for a very wet, damp atmosphere. It is hard to keep focus on specific sounds in the track, everything is so bubbly and shapeless, probably the ambient synth in the background is the only consistent sound. Looking from far away you’d think you trapped yourself in a loop, yet the track actually evolves somehow. Everything feels so mystical, I am picturing an abandoned monastery in the middle of a forest, a lot of vegetation, the place feels sacred and peaceful. A ringing synth comes, like a warning, but there seems to be no distinctive threat surrounding this norse shrine. A distant kick finally comes in, after the ringing has merged with all other layers in an otherworldly vortex. Myriads of fireflies circle you, and oscillate as the bass comes and goes…

If you liked this live ambient session, I suggest you listen to his very high above water mix (linked below). It is different in the sense that it relies a lot more on field recordings, sounds of rain, cars passing by, crickets, strong winds and distant storms serve as transition between carefully selected tracks, only a few, hiding in there, which seem to always appear out of the ambient noise, as if they were always meant to be played overlaid with nature sounds. Near 17:30 is where I typically lose it, when the Moonlight Sonata comes in, as if drowned beneath the rain, the nostalgia, the sadness is too powerful. I am convinced my grandmother would have loved this part, as I know she revered Beethoven all her life, although Chopin came first in her heart. The crackles of vinyl add to the scenery, like the sonic equivalent of a still life. Truly beautiful.