Incipientum I Inhuman Cass.
A door, swinging, vibrating air, welcoming the snoopy, waving all in, accordion dust, bird's lament. A sloppy drum. A detuned organ. It’s warm inside. The creatures are happy. Pleased by gentle odd tones, arpeggios, rhythms without grooves, inviolable, yet so vulnerable. A cry in the dark, a scream in a veiled distance, all keeps turning, keeps burning. The tender erased by fire, deleted by noise. The wind comes around again. Electric whistling, arithmetical birds humming in line. “Inhuman” likes to eat. It’s a tape by Incipientium, a novel Gothenburg-based one-man project, that already got releases on labels like iDEAL Recordings or Discreet Music under his wings. His cassette for Kashual Plastik features one almost 15, and one almost 14 minutes long psychic vision of rusty dark musical zones crammed by poetic romanticism. They are starving. For you. For a ritual. In folk. In drone. In jazz. In electronics. Organically virtual. The door swings. Tape loops in reverberation. New Orleans trumpets in slow motion. Voodoo is back in the Western hemisphere, triggering the rational sense. Nebulizing the serenity. Bringing brand new confusion, the ultimate solution. A gate, it swings. It winds you in. Dark musical districts without light, shinning utterly bright. Made for the Inhuman to become hominoid.