James K specialises in a delectable strangeness. Having collaborated with the likes of Yves Tumor and shared event stages with other experimental favourites including James Ferraro in recent years, this September the New York native returned with a stunning solo record. Released via Incienso, Random Girl continued in the theme of the surreal but drew less from dreams and more from a nightmare, shrouded in distortion and enmeshing indiscernible vocals within dissonant chords.
Her Crack Mix, then, is right on brand. With wonky half-time rhythms, subaquatic synths, dubbed-out chuggers and more hard-edged drum’n’bass, we’re taken down an undulating river across the near-two-hour-long recording. In the artist’s own words:
“A river moves: flux-flowing. This one’s another wet-brained, tripped-out psych roller, slipping its way through jagged reef [and] driving rapids, and pours out to placid eyes. Runs down your head and body – serpentined liquid dreams, source to source. Underneath covers, the bed’s blanketed with time-slushed mud – things lost surface, emotions drip a path – wet ’n’ wild: choose all the colours on the shelf that make you feel you… over time, even the sharpest edges smooth.”
“Go on a trip to get lost – the flow’s not downwards, it’s flux!”
Crack Mix 475: James K
Crack Mix 475: James K
James K specialises in a delectable strangeness. Having collaborated with the likes of Yves Tumor and shared event stages with other experimental favourites including James Ferraro in recent years, this September the New York native returned with a stunning solo record. Released via Incienso, Random Girl continued in the theme of the surreal but drew less from dreams and more from a nightmare, shrouded in distortion and enmeshing indiscernible vocals within dissonant chords.
Her Crack Mix, then, is right on brand. With wonky half-time rhythms, subaquatic synths, dubbed-out chuggers and more hard-edged drum’n’bass, we’re taken down an undulating river across the near-two-hour-long recording. In the artist’s own words:
“A river moves: flux-flowing. This one’s another wet-brained, tripped-out psych roller, slipping its way through jagged reef [and] driving rapids, and pours out to placid eyes. Runs down your head and body – serpentined liquid dreams, source to source. Underneath covers, the bed’s blanketed with time-slushed mud – things lost surface, emotions drip a path – wet ’n’ wild: choose all the colours on the shelf that make you feel you… over time, even the sharpest edges smooth.”
“Go on a trip to get lost – the flow’s not downwards, it’s flux!”
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