Ultimate musical improvisation/creativity

[Carl-Richard]

The chord progression in the chorus is the heaviest piece of chord progression I have ever heard. That's the stuff only my imagination can create, hearkening back to the original purpose of the thread.

1:30

 

Edited June 26 by Carl-Richard

[Carl-Richard]

There is also something incredibly heavy about growling "allahuakbar" before a breakdown 😂:

1:19

 

Edited June 26 by Carl-Richard

[Guest Nilsi]

20 hours ago, Carl-Richard said:

The chord progression in the chorus is the heaviest piece of chord progression I have ever heard. That's the stuff only my imagination can create, hearkening back to the original purpose of the thread.

1:30

 

Wouldn’t it be an interesting thesis to explore why we tend to perceive music written in Phrygian - the so-called Arabic or “oriental” scale, which, as I guess, is what Nile use here to create these sinister progressions - and whether this perception goes beyond purely scientific explanations (like “the flat second creates tension, therefore it sounds dark”)? Maybe it also reflects a kind of latent cultural colonialism, where the Orient is imagined as something mystical, archaic, barbaric, and threatening - a projection that gets repressed and then resurfaces unconsciously in the aesthetic experience of music.

Edited June 27 by Nilsi

[Guest Nilsi]

20 hours ago, Carl-Richard said:

There is also something incredibly heavy about growling "allahuakbar" before a breakdown 😂:

1:19

 

Starting an album with a full-on duʿāʾ (invocation) over droning synths that segue into absolutely crushing noise rock is also pretty fucking hard imo.

Edited June 27 by Nilsi

[Carl-Richard]

1 hour ago, Nilsi said:

Wouldn’t it be an interesting thesis to explore why we tend to perceive music written in Phrygian - the so-called Arabic or “oriental” scale, which, as I guess, is what Nile use here to create these sinister progressions - and whether this perception goes beyond purely scientific explanations (like “the flat second creates tension, therefore it sounds dark”)? Maybe it also reflects a kind of latent cultural colonialism, where the Orient is imagined as something mystical, archaic, barbaric, and threatening - a projection that gets repressed and then resurfaces unconsciously in the aesthetic experience of music.

They seem to use a lot of Phrygian in their intros when doing their nods to Egyptology and just generally, but I think that particular chord progression is more amelodic than anything (missing a true tonal center), which is a typical thing in death metal, but this was just pulled off so beautifully. "Death" is a band that uses very much Phrygian, certainly in Chuck Schuldiner's solos (it's virtually in all of his solos).

I think for a chord progression to sound heavy, it must have moments of incredible dissonance that is unpredictable in a way, but which is also used strategically and in a larger melodic context that is not as dissonant. Or else it just becomes "ugly" or "just noise". Phrygian as a scale seems to make a good general template for this, but going into amelodic territories is where you find the really heavy stuff.

Another example of a really heavy chord progression is Opeth's Blackwater Park intro riff (0:07-1:10). The final chord in the progression is so dissonant, both in comparison to the previous chord but also especially as its own chord. But honestly, the riff just after that (1:15) is honestly just as dissonant and generally the most genius riff ever written:

One thing is for certain though, Nile's style being centered around Egyptology gives it a mystical and sinister vibe, because Ancient Egypt has always given me that vibe. Images of being deep inside a pyramid and running from mummies and ghosts of thousand year old kings casting magic spells.

Edited June 27 by Carl-Richard

[Guest Nilsi]

1 hour ago, Carl-Richard said:

They seem to use a lot of Phrygian in their intros when doing their nods to Egyptology and just generally, but I think that particular chord progression is more amelodic than anything (missing a true tonal center), which is a typical thing in death metal, but this was just pulled off so beautifully. "Death" is a band that uses very much Phrygian, certainly in Chuck Schuldiner's solos (it's virtually in all of his solos).

I think for a chord progression to sound heavy, it must have moments of incredible dissonance that is unpredictable in a way, but which is also used strategically and in a larger melodic context that is not as dissonant. Or else it just becomes "ugly" or "just noise". Phrygian as a scale seems to make a good general template for this, but going into amelodic territories is where you find the really heavy stuff.

Another example of a really heavy chord progression is Opeth's Blackwater Park intro riff (0:07-1:10). The final chord in the progression is so dissonant, both in comparison to the previous chord but also especially as its own chord. But honestly, the riff just after that (1:15) is honestly just as dissonant and generally the most genius riff ever written:

One thing is for certain though, Nile's style being centered around Egyptology gives it a mystical and sinister vibe, because Ancient Egypt has always given me that vibe. Images of being deep inside a pyramid and running from mummies and ghosts of thousand year old kings casting magic spells.

Fair enough - going into amelodic territories definitely does create some of the heaviest stuff in metal, no argument there. But personally, I have a bit of a different concept of what I’d call really heavy.

For me, metal is like a meticulously constructed topology of discrete elements: the guitars as a textured plane of distortion, the drums as a pulsating grid of time, the voice as a vector of human aggression, and the scales as a navigable harmonic landscape. Heaviness emerges when all these layers are configured almost alchemically - aligned in just the right sequence of acceleration, saturation, and rupture. You start with melody and structure, and then you progressively fracture them, increasing speed, loudness, and dissonance until you reach a point of symbolic excess. But no matter how extreme it becomes, you never truly leave the map; all the elements remain recognizable. The experience is intense, but it’s still inscribed within a symbolic universe where everything has a place and a role. Heaviness, in this sense, is not the annihilation of structure but its maximal overloading.

The kind of heaviness I’m drawn to is a bit different. I’d describe it as something closer to the Lacanian Real - the intrusion of something that isn’t structurally implied from the start, something that can’t be fully mapped in advance. That’s why noise, for me, is the archetypal form of this. It isn’t just a negation of melody or an extreme configuration of familiar elements - it’s a rupture that feels alien, unassimilable. You can’t fully locate it in a scale or a rhythm grid. It doesn’t resolve into a recognizable pattern of tension and release. It just erupts, and that’s why it feels genuinely heavy in a way that’s fundamentally different from the symbolic heaviness of metal.

Edited June 27 by Nilsi

[Guest Nilsi]

2 minutes ago, Nilsi said:

Fair enough - going into amelodic territories definitely does create some of the heaviest stuff in metal, no argument there. But personally, I have a bit of a different concept of what I’d call really heavy.

For me, metal is like a meticulously constructed topology of discrete elements: the guitars as a textured plane of distortion, the drums as a pulsating grid of time, the voice as a vector of human aggression, and the scales as a navigable harmonic landscape. Heaviness emerges when all these layers are configured almost alchemically - aligned in just the right sequence of acceleration, saturation, and rupture. You start with melody and structure, and then you progressively fracture them, increasing speed, loudness, and dissonance until you reach a point of symbolic excess. But no matter how extreme it becomes, you never truly leave the map; all the elements remain recognizable. The experience is intense, but it’s still inscribed within a symbolic universe where everything has a place and a role. Heaviness, in this sense, is not the annihilation of structure but its maximal overloading.

The kind of heaviness I’m drawn to is a bit different. I’d describe it as something closer to the Lacanian Real - the intrusion of something that isn’t structurally implied from the start, something that can’t be fully mapped in advance. That’s why noise, for me, is the archetypal form of this. It isn’t just a negation of melody or an extreme configuration of familiar elements - it’s a rupture that feels alien, unassimilable. You can’t fully locate it in a scale or a rhythm grid. It doesn’t resolve into a recognizable pattern of tension and release. It just erupts, and that’s why it feels genuinely heavy in a way that’s fundamentally different from the symbolic heaviness of metal.

By the way, I think your use of the term “amelodic” might actually be a bit misleading. What you’re describing seems more like what I’d call “immelodic” - still referencing melodic structures but breaking or distorting them in a controlled way. For me, “amelodic” is closer to genuine noise - something that doesn’t even operate in relation to melody at all.

[Guest Nilsi]

13 minutes ago, Nilsi said:

Fair enough - going into amelodic territories definitely does create some of the heaviest stuff in metal, no argument there. But personally, I have a bit of a different concept of what I’d call really heavy.

For me, metal is like a meticulously constructed topology of discrete elements: the guitars as a textured plane of distortion, the drums as a pulsating grid of time, the voice as a vector of human aggression, and the scales as a navigable harmonic landscape. Heaviness emerges when all these layers are configured almost alchemically - aligned in just the right sequence of acceleration, saturation, and rupture. You start with melody and structure, and then you progressively fracture them, increasing speed, loudness, and dissonance until you reach a point of symbolic excess. But no matter how extreme it becomes, you never truly leave the map; all the elements remain recognizable. The experience is intense, but it’s still inscribed within a symbolic universe where everything has a place and a role. Heaviness, in this sense, is not the annihilation of structure but its maximal overloading.

The kind of heaviness I’m drawn to is a bit different. I’d describe it as something closer to the Lacanian Real - the intrusion of something that isn’t structurally implied from the start, something that can’t be fully mapped in advance. That’s why noise, for me, is the archetypal form of this. It isn’t just a negation of melody or an extreme configuration of familiar elements - it’s a rupture that feels alien, unassimilable. You can’t fully locate it in a scale or a rhythm grid. It doesn’t resolve into a recognizable pattern of tension and release. It just erupts, and that’s why it feels genuinely heavy in a way that’s fundamentally different from the symbolic heaviness of metal.

I think in this sense, if we’re talking about rock or metal - or really any genre that’s still operating within its own conventions - that heavinedd can’t fully emerge. Because as long as you’re inside the genre, you’re bound by the coordinates that make it intelligible as “rock” or “metal” in the first place. You can distort or overload those coordinates (and that’s what a lot of extreme metal does), but you’re still ultimately playing the same game - just pushing the pieces around in more aggressive configurations.

To actually open up space for the Real - something that doesn’t belong to the symbolic order at all - you almost have to step outside the genre framework altogether. That’s why a lot of this feels closer to what people call post-rock or post-metal: it’s the point where the genre starts to decompose itself from the outside.

A good example of this is someone like Trent Reznor. He’s not just working within rock as a stable set of instruments and conventions. He’s operating more like a composer or sound designer - recording, manipulating, reconfiguring, layering elements that aren’t bound to the live, band-based structure. He’s already in a “post-” position, where the frame itself is no longer given in advance. That’s why this outside element - this alien residue, the Real - can slip into the music. It’s no longer just an extreme point on a genre’s continuum; it’s something that interrupts and exceeds the continuum altogether.

 

[Carl-Richard]

56 minutes ago, Nilsi said:

By the way, I think your use of the term “amelodic” might actually be a bit misleading. What you’re describing seems more like what I’d call “immelodic” - still referencing melodic structures but breaking or distorting them in a controlled way. For me, “amelodic” is closer to genuine noise - something that doesn’t even operate in relation to melody at all.

Amelodic in the Western classical music sense where if you play outside or jump too much between Western music scales, you're deemed a heretic. Like if you watch Doug Helvering's earlier music reaction videos, he will be like "ooh, that is a weird place to go to an E". Basically all music theory jargon is just Western imperialism 😆

The most amelodic music I can think of that uses tones and is not just random sounds is some of Frank Zappa's earlier records:

 

 

 

[Guest Nilsi]

44 minutes ago, Carl-Richard said:

Amelodic in the Western classical music sense where if you play outside or jump too much between Western music scales, you're deemed a heretic. Like if you watch Doug Helvering's earlier music reaction videos, he will be like "ooh, that is a weird place to go to an E". Basically all music theory jargon is just Western imperialism 😆

The most amelodic music I can think of that uses tones and is not just random sounds is some of Frank Zappa's earlier records:

 

 

 

But your “heresy” still depends on a master for its raison d’être. So Zappa remains a Hegelian, caught in the master-slave dialectic, where rebellion is just the inverted recognition of authority. I don’t necessarily criticize this - I’m aware this tension is precisely how Western culture became so “refined.” It’s just that this is also exactly what the master discourse wants: for you to keep orbiting the same polarity.

 

Personally, I’m more interested in exploring how these positions emerge, collide, and mutate into other vectors of force. This isn’t about any final breakthrough or liberation - and it’s not some postcolonial or decolonial claim. Even when I talk about the Lacanian Real or the idea of rupture, it’s really more of an aesthetic kink on my part than any ontological commitment.

In the end, I judge art and culture from a Nietzschean standpoint. For me, will to power implies a radical multipolarity and an intensification of forces - a movement of difference and repetition rather than any fixed hierarchy. It doesn’t matter what drives an artist, as long as the work is committed, fully given, and pushed to the edge of its own instincts and ambitions. The rest is just technique and style.

Edited June 27 by Nilsi

[Carl-Richard]

2 hours ago, Nilsi said:

Fair enough - going into amelodic territories definitely does create some of the heaviest stuff in metal, no argument there. But personally, I have a bit of a different concept of what I’d call really heavy.

For me, metal is like a meticulously constructed topology of discrete elements: the guitars as a textured plane of distortion, the drums as a pulsating grid of time, the voice as a vector of human aggression, and the scales as a navigable harmonic landscape. Heaviness emerges when all these layers are configured almost alchemically - aligned in just the right sequence of acceleration, saturation, and rupture. You start with melody and structure, and then you progressively fracture them, increasing speed, loudness, and dissonance until you reach a point of symbolic excess. But no matter how extreme it becomes, you never truly leave the map; all the elements remain recognizable. The experience is intense, but it’s still inscribed within a symbolic universe where everything has a place and a role. Heaviness, in this sense, is not the annihilation of structure but its maximal overloading.

The kind of heaviness I’m drawn to is a bit different. I’d describe it as something closer to the Lacanian Real - the intrusion of something that isn’t structurally implied from the start, something that can’t be fully mapped in advance. That’s why noise, for me, is the archetypal form of this. It isn’t just a negation of melody or an extreme configuration of familiar elements - it’s a rupture that feels alien, unassimilable. You can’t fully locate it in a scale or a rhythm grid. It doesn’t resolve into a recognizable pattern of tension and release. It just erupts, and that’s why it feels genuinely heavy in a way that’s fundamentally different from the symbolic heaviness of metal.

Some of the most unexpectedly heavy things I've heard is that one Poppy scream in that Knocked Loose Jimmy Kimmel performance (I hadn't heard the song before watching that). It didn't sound like a "metal" scream, but like a "scream scream", like from a horror movie. And also that moan inflection at the end. That was something that broke the standard metal mould but which also made it more heavier.

[MuadDib]

On 6/12/2025 at 3:01 PM, Carl-Richard said:

(For context, this is arguably the best PKer in the game dying in a tournament because he couldn't handle the extremely laggy servers).

21:07 It's interesting how essentially the top PKer in the world is not the best because he can quickly adapt to new situations and for example change his PKing style to suit the lag (which he didn't but which you definitely could), but because he is so incredibly intuitively dialed in to the game when it works as it should. That's the difference between IQ and skill. IQ doesn't necessarily predict how well you do at a given activity or how deeply you master it, but it does predict how quickly you learn it. Oda is not known for his IQ but he is known for his immense skill, and this clip is a perfect illustration of that. It's also an illustration of how when you break flow and intuition, you break the highest expression of skill.

Hair is expensive in rs.
 

 

[Carl-Richard]

23 hours ago, Nilsi said:

A good example of this is someone like Trent Reznor. He’s not just working within rock as a stable set of instruments and conventions. He’s operating more like a composer or sound designer - recording, manipulating, reconfiguring, layering elements that aren’t bound to the live, band-based structure. He’s already in a “post-” position, where the frame itself is no longer given in advance. That’s why this outside element - this alien residue, the Real - can slip into the music. It’s no longer just an extreme point on a genre’s continuum; it’s something that interrupts and exceeds the continuum altogether.

 

That's an interesting song. I can see your point on a certain divergent creativity informing heaviness. But this happens "within" genres as well. It's really just a matter of scale. Structure is always there, hierarchy is always there, genre is always there. It's just how far can you jump. And it's also about where you choose to focus. 

These jumps happen all the time when making songs. If they don't happen to any noticeable degree, you get ideas like "bland", "stale", "unoriginal", "uncreative". For heaviness in particular, the jump can be as minor as introducing a different technique for how you attack the strings (e.g. "thumping", as popularized by Tosin Abasi, or the insane pick scratches by Gojira) or rhythmical elaborativeness (e.g. Meshuggah). Rhythm in itself is a Pandora's box of heaviness, and of course dissonance of rhythm especially. Or it can be inviting an entirely different sound than what is normal for that genre (e.g. strummed acoustic guitar layered on top of the distorted guitars; both Opeth and Nile has done this) or really music altogether (e.g. the nightmare-ish, silent but also loud amorphous wall of dissonance which is impossible to describe in the interlude of Steven Wilson's and Mikael Akerfeldt's "Storm Corrosion"; maybe a bad example of staying within a genre to be honest).

However, you did make me have some interesting thoughts pop in my mind about ways of producing music that are so divergently creative that it scares you socks off. It's hard to describe, but I got a "vision" (rather a "listen") about somewhere in a song leading up to a type of breakdown, you do a severe surround sound effect where you quickly flip the entire soundscape to the back of your head and then pan it violently upwards and forward (it would be so much easier to show you with hand movements, but whatever). I would have to create it to show what I really mean. It's a bit like the vision I had with the meditation movie idea. You would know more what I mean when you see it. There are actually many such visions/listens I have about music that if I were to pursue and create in a song, it would either sound amazing or I would never be able to recreate it.

Edited June 28 by Carl-Richard

[Carl-Richard]

23 minutes ago, Carl-Richard said:

That's an interesting song. I can see your point on a certain divergent creativity informing heaviness. But this happens "within" genres as well, as well as without. It's really just a matter of scale. Structure is always there, hierarchy is always there, genre is always there. It's just how far can you jump. And it's also where you choose to focus. 

These jumps happen all the time when making songs. If they don't happen to any noticeable degree, you get ideas like "bland", "stale", "unoriginal", "uncreative". For heaviness in particular, the jump can be as minor as introducing a different technique for how you attack the strings (e.g. "thumping", as popularized by Tosin Abasi, or the insane pick scratches by Gojira) or rhythmical elaborativeness (e.g. Meshuggah). Rhythm in itself is a Pandora's box of heaviness, and of course dissonance of rhythm especially. Or it can be inviting an entirely different sound than what is normal for that genre (e.g. strummed acoustic guitar layered on top of the distorted guitars; both Opeth and Nile has done this) or really music altogether (e.g. the nightmare-ish, silent but also loud amorphous wall of dissonance which is impossible to describe in the interlude of Steven Wilson's and Mikael Akerfeldt's "Storm Corrosion"; maybe a bad example of staying within a genre to be honest).

I'm gonna do a Nilsi and quote myself: this is a better example of the "within genre" divergent creativity than the very last one (maybe not specific to heaviness, but divergent creativity nonetheless), also from Steven Wilson:

Quote

Steven Wilson has spoken regularly about his dislike of guitar players who don’t experiment with their tone. Back in 2023, he said he was “constantly disappointed” by it.

[...]

“A lot of old-school guitar players, they can play amazing – beautiful technique, beautiful feel. They can play beautiful solos. But sometimes they’re not so innovative with the actual sound,” he says. “The possibilities for sound now have become greater. And I think Randy understands that.”

He goes on: “The obvious thing to say here is the sound very much affects the way you play, and I think sometimes guitar players forget that – or maybe they don’t, but the people who listen to guitar players forget that sometimes when you get sound it changes what you actually play.

“Randy’s a great example of someone who understands that, so we spent a lot of time actually looking for the right sound before we even approached how he was going to play and the kind of scale he was going to play.”

Despite playing the majority of guitars on the album, Wilson “left these sort of expanses” where he didn’t really know what he wanted. “I knew I wanted something that wouldn’t be obvious,” he elaborates. “I play one very brief solo in the middle of side one, but the rest – there are three big solos – are Randy. I do like the guitar, but it’s always been part of my tool box, if you like. My love affair is with making records, and guitars are a part of that.”

https://guitar.com/news/music-news/steven-wilson-explains-why-guitarists-should-regularly-change-their-tone/

Steven Wilson is a very "within genre" kind of guy, but on his newest album, you can really see this come into play. There are some interesting guitar sounds there I've not really heard before.

Edited June 28 by Carl-Richard

[Carl-Richard]

@Nilsi

Here is an example of Meshuggah taking rhythmic dissonance so far that it essentially becomes "noise" (beyond mere heaviness), as the syncopating rhythmic pattern is so long that you don't have the attention span to decode it (maybe ever, certainly not on the first listen). Not coincidentally, the song feels mostly like noise to me:

 

On the other hand, this riff is my favorite Meshuggah riff, and it uses rhythmic dissonance in such a beautiful way (which makes it really heavy):

3:45 (and also the one at 4:16 which is the main riff of the song).

 

Edited June 28 by Carl-Richard

[Guest Nilsi]

13 hours ago, Carl-Richard said:

However, you did make me have some interesting thoughts pop in my mind about ways of producing music that are so divergently creative that it scares you socks off. It's hard to describe, but I got a "vision" (rather a "listen") about somewhere in a song leading up to a type of breakdown, you do a severe surround sound effect where you quickly flip the entire soundscape to the back of your head and then pan it violently upwards and forward (it would be so much easier to show you with hand movements, but whatever). I would have to create it to show what I really mean. It's a bit like the vision I had with the meditation movie idea. You would know more what I mean when you see it. There are actually many such visions/listens I have about music that if I were to pursue and create in a song, it would either sound amazing or I would never be able to recreate it.

I guess I kind of get where you’re going with this.

I’m with you in that I think engineering is actually the true philosophical act in music. It’s like writing a book, an aphorism, or a piece of prose - extremely precise, deliberate, and creative - and its potential is mostly overlooked or marginalized.

I’m thinking your treatment at the final breakdown of Tool’s Third Eye would be perfect. You know, after the final pre-hook or whatever, when it gets quiet for a moment and they start jamming and then build it up one last time before the “PRYING OPEN MY THIRD EYE” climax. Because what you describe feels a lot like having one’s third eye pried open.

Maybe you’ll find something similar in Autechre, or Noisia, or some other sound design nerds.

I guess that Sophie record has some of those mind-bending breakdowns too - and incidentally, it’s one of the hardest albums I could think of:

 

Edited June 28 by Nilsi

[Carl-Richard]

15 minutes ago, Nilsi said:

I’m thinking your treatment at the final breakdown of Tool’s Third Eye would be perfect. You know, after the final pre-hook or whatever, when it gets quiet for a moment and they start jamming and then build it up one last time before the “PRYING OPEN MY THIRD EYE” climax. Because what you describe feels a lot like having one’s third eye pried open.

That could work. I'm imagining it 🥸

 

19 minutes ago, Nilsi said:

Maybe you’ll find something similar in Autechre, or Noisia, or some other sound design nerds.

I guess that Sophie record has some of those mind-bending breakdowns too - and incidentally, it’s one of the hardest albums I could think of:

 

Damn, gimme more of these wacky artists 😂

[Guest Nilsi]

24 minutes ago, Carl-Richard said:

@Nilsi

Here is an example of Meshuggah taking rhythmic dissonance so far that it essentially becomes "noise" (beyond mere heaviness), as the syncopating rhythmic pattern is so long that you don't have the attention span to decode it (maybe ever, certainly not on the first listen). Not coincidentally, the song mostly feels like noise to me:

 

On the other hand, this riff is my favorite Meshuggah riff, and it uses rhythmic dissonance in such a beautiful way (which makes it really heavy):

3:45 (and also the one at 4:16 which is the main riff of the song).

 

That’s tuff 😤. By the way, the second video you sent doesn’t seem to load on my end.

I think metal is the perfect genre to explore rhythm in, because it’s so technical and all the parts are so locked into each other, yet it’s still human and primal (unlike IDM or other rhythm-heavy genres). And I guess rhythm is the most primal musical element.

Actually, I think a good distinction between the two different forms of heaviness we’ve been discussing - the alchemical within-genre heaviness versus the alien post-genre heaviness - could be framed through Kant’s ideas of the mathematical sublime and the dynamic sublime.

Kant describes the mathematical sublime as “that which is absolutely great beyond all comparison,” and the dynamic sublime as “that which is an object of fear.”

In music, maybe the mathematical sublime is this sense of totality - everything fused together into something immeasurably vast and precise, almost like contemplating the scale of the cosmos. And the dynamic sublime feels more like an encounter with something you can’t fully locate or domesticate - something uncanny and alien.

So maybe the alchemical heaviness is mathematical, and the alien heaviness is dynamic in this more ambiguous, disorienting sense.

[Guest Nilsi]

28 minutes ago, Carl-Richard said:

Damn, gimme more of these wacky artists 😂

Eh, I’m not really into that kind of overly architectural music myself (apart from Sophie, because again, she’s actually working on a genre - pop - and pushing it forward in an interesting way, instead of just noodling around with sound in the noosphere).

I guess if I were to recommend some producers who play with sound and genre in a subtle and interesting way while still being great artists, I’d go with Nicolas Jaar and Tim Hecker.

When I play this Tim Hecker record on my multi-room speaker setup, I literally feel like I’m in the middle of an apocalyptic war movie or something - the sound is so dense and perfectly mixed it just fills the entire space and replaces every particle of air with pure sound:

 

Edited June 28 by Nilsi

[Carl-Richard]

6 hours ago, Nilsi said:

 

 

Unsettling and very calming. My kind of music.