#balearic

Though I was only recently introduced to the sounds of Dai Nakamura through Growing Bin Records, the composer and producer has been active since the early 2000s, working solo as Nuback, and also collectively with bands such as Bank andBlank Music. Much of Nakamura’s work finds its home on the artist’s own Too Young Records, and back in 2013, the label digitally released Nuback’s Good Bye Summer, AgainEP, two tracks of which were eventually selected by Growing Bin for the When the Party’s Over / Heartbeat Summer 7”. Nostalgic city-pop, heart throb indie, and dub-kissed chillwave thread together as sparse rhythms and big bottomed basslines groove beneath swirls of ethereal synthesis…these aqueous pads, soaring leads, and starlight sparkles that swim aside funk guitar licks and swooning soul vocalizations. And there is a distinct sense throughout—helped in no small part by the title of each track, and of the EP from which they are sourced—that the music here is meant to function as a wistful love letter to the end of summer…to bittersweet remembrances of coastal highway cruises, afternoon beach parties, late night dances, and early mornings spent watching the sun ascend across magnificent expanses of gold and blue. 

Nuback - When the Party’s Over / Heartbeat Summer (Growing Bin Records, 2020)
“When the Party’s Over” begins with glimmering synth chords that stretch through ping-pong echoes, their decay trails flowing towards a gorgeous summer horizon. Rubber band boogie bass pounds and broken kick and snare beats hold down a skeletal groove, while further layers of oceanic synthesis swell into the stereo field. Cluster of starshine shimmer in the sky, pads move like liquid light waves, and majestic melodies are buried beneath layers of sweeping filter mesmerism while in the distance, electric guitars riff through multi-hued clouds of seafoam. As we back down into washing synthetic wavefronts and barely-there kick and snare rhythms, Nakamura croons romantically around the mix…breathing sensuously…voice double tracked and spoken close…conversational and sweetly naïve. Solar guitar hooks and layers of blissed out electronica rush in for a sort of chorus as Nakamura’s voice backs into a sadboy indie serenade, with the vibe sleepy eyed, slightly stoned, and softly psychedelic. During the bridge, hazy pads hover aside the vocals and bulbous basslines move beneath blasts of galactic magic, with sonorous soul hooks and radio AOR lyricisms flowing out into the ether. Sometimes, further guitar layers scat out spacey funk riffs in support while overhead, kosmische arps sparkle like liquid diamonds. There’s a moment where things slowly devolve towards a false ending…the track seeming to vaporize as drums and pads wash out beneath bell tree cascades and synthetic firefly dances. But as echoing space guitars decay and blurred electronics mimic a mirage, a timbale roll rockets the track back to life, leading to one last soulful summer pop swing that slowly fades into silence.

Over on the B-side sits “Heartbeat Summer,” where jazz snares and house claps work together over clipped kicks and smoldering e-piano romantics. The background overflows with chittering echo manipulations and broken machine oscillations, though these sounds swirl far in the distance, leaving room for sub bass dub bubbles to guide summery group vocalizations. Nakamura’s multi-layered voice moves through wordless soul-hooks…like the backline singers for some Motown diva transported into a spell of downtempo seafloor balearica. Synthesizers paint the air in shades of aquamarine as they reach out across infinite oceans and futuristic wobble basslines sing strange lullabies in support. Metalloid vapors breath and sparkling strands of crystal break free from the murk as they introduce anthemic guitar harmonies…these sky-seeking fusion pop licks that vaguely remind me of PInback…a sort of flamboyant six string duel repurposed for indie heartache and twilit romance. Following this, the flubbing spaceage bass wobbles return to sing alien sea shanties and woven threads of starshine synthesis resume wrapping around the heart, their melodies carrying the spirit away towards a paradise unknown. And all throughout the background, a calming cloud of dissonance continuously mutates, from which psychosonic threads push out into view before receding into nothingness.

(images from my personal copy)

The newest release from Crash SymbolsisHyphae, which was composed and produced by Andrea Rusconi under the name PAQ. The A-side is awash in balearic vibes, with music touching on downtempo tropicalia, fuzzy psychedelia, slow surf exotica, and stoned acid jazz. As for the B-side, Rusconi presents compelling combinations of sunrise-soaked tāmpurā drone, deep space synth slop, dopamine bebop, new age tribal, and solar flare ambient. The focus throughout is less on progression or transition, as almost every track locks early into a heady hypno-groove—or into spell of hypnagogic ambient—and from there, Rusconi and his collaborators paint the air in otherworldly hues while using subtle layering to generate mesmerizing displays of energy and motion. As such, the album is well named, and each song can be interpreted as a slowly advancing hypha…a tendril of lysergic sound twisting and winding into a grooving structure, which then grows together with other similar—yet distinct—threads of organic audio mysticism to form a complex body of mind-altering magic.

PAQ - Hyphae (Crash Symbols, 2021)
The title track opens in a natural setting, as whooshing winds join a panorama of birdsong. Star-trail feedback tracers introduce a bassline comprised of big buzzing space subsonics, and a horizontal groove emerges around it, built from ticking cymbals and rhythm box hand drums. Arpeggios like diamonds flitter about the spectrum and sampled choirs pulse in and out of the stereo field…their breathy songs helping to give things the air of a rainforest river trek, with a vibe not unlike fell Italian adventurers Lorenzo Morresi and Walter Quiroga. LSD-laced squelch solos cycle above balmy grooves of tropical electro-lounge, zipping laser wisps intermingle with garbled broadcasts from faraway solar systems, careening delay oscillations spiral out of control, and what sounds like solar organ drones are buried beneath layers of acidic liquid…like a screaming Afro-jazz siren sitting just out of reach. Then, as the rhythms disperse, basslines walk a seaside oasis rendered in tones of melted crystal, wherein drunken music boxes morph into alien radars. Next comes “Atomic Samba,” the name of which almost says everything there is to say. Riffing wah guitars and bulbous basslines bring in a shuffling island funk groove, with touches of Latin romance kissing the equatorial vibrations. Rimshot and snare hypnotics keep the mind entranced while kick drum and frogsong bass pulse deep into the body, and the combination of heavy-bottomed 70s groove and liquid six-string psychedelia pulls my mind to Fontanelle, only as if playing the part of a lounge band at some sunny Ibizan café. Understated melodies shine as if generated from a harpsichord made of quivering gemstone and highlife organs sing psychotropic hymns to the sun while galactic energy blasts push the balearic jam towards more cosmic waters. And by the end, the rhythms drop, and in the resulting world of ambient sonic sunshine, a bass guitar chugs, with slight distortion and vocal filtering kissing the fried funk lines.

Space age electronics wiggle through the void in “Airmalta” before a stoned lounge jazz jammer emerges, with contrabass plucking through the shadows. The drums of Enrico Ro morph quickly from lazed spiritual bop to a popping acid jazz breakbeat, though the vibe remains low slung and delirious, especially as smoke-shrouded e-pianos diffuse through the murk. The background overflows with weirdo space sounds, bubbling cauldron fx, insectoid hums, and cascades of resonance that filter into blinding light…all while a serpentine fuzz organ moves overheard, the vibe seasick, drunken, and countered by blistering waves of psychedelic fuzz guitar. Drum and bass continue holding their downbeat jazz groove and the electric pianos grow increasingly abstract while skronking chords intercut the SiP-esque Afro organ melodics. And eventually, the groove starts to vaporize, leaving overdriven keys and webs of slapback. As for “Lowed,” Rusconi drops us straight away into a world of surf psychedelia, with big basslines cruising along some seaside highway, and drums hard panned as they swing on the beat. Infectious snares intertwine with shaker and bongo patterns, while vibraphones sparkle in the moonlight. Piero Ambrosani’s trumpet coos out clouds of color and percussive vocalisms move at the edge of the mix…like bending saws approximating the soft songs of jungle fauna. There are evocations of Diminished Men, in particular when sci-fi synthesizers start squelching over the big bottomed surf jazz jam out, bringing with them a futuristic touch that only enhances the atmospheres of noir exotica. Trumpet and synth blur together into a fuzzed out mirage of melody and harmony, with the brass growing increasingly adventurous at certain times, while elsewhere backing a sensual whisper. Basslines pull out momentarily, and when they return, the stirring sounds of woodwinds join the mix, which sing their aerophone lullabies through a cinematic drug den haze. Then, as the track closes, it mutates into a nocturnal jazz zone out, with shakers and starlit idiophonics conversing with Ambrosani’s calming trumpet purr.

“Karin Solaris” opens the B-side and features high end drones wafting like opium smoke while unidentifiable field recordings suffuse the spectrum…these shuffles and scrapes of mysterious origin. Sickly drones grow in strength within the ether and golden shimmers from the noa bells and tāmpurā drones of Ambra Galassi peak through oceanic wavefronts generated by bowed strings. Echo pedal manipulations cause multi-tracked ghost howls, or sometimes sudden tonal shifts…like ripple moving through the fabric of the universe…and there are evocations of Pelt and Ariel Kalma, of Mind Over Mirrors and GHQ, and of Bitchin Bajas and La Monte Young, with cascading currents of feedback converging…resonating…vibrating. Feet rustle in the grass and bells are shaken in a state of ecstatic trance as brain bending oscillations swell in intensity, their tonal soundbath serenade activating astral portals and third eye visions. “Ouzospore” starts with oscillations moving through extra-terrestrial fluids, and with constructive collisions generating squiggles of spectral squelch and sprays of silver starshine. Melodic bubbles percolate beneath mangled modulations and sleepy-eyed filter sweeps while crazed percussive rolls fade in before panning out of sight. Electro-toms move side-to-side as a soporific slice of astral tribal jazz emerges, one that sees basslines locked into a classical bebop walk, though as if slowed down to a fever dream pace. Beating bongos generate skeletal percussive structures that are further supported by snare sketches and sparse cymbal splashes, and squarewave synth leads swim drunkenly through seas of galactic detritus wherein swirling spirals, feedback blasts, and liquiform oscillations merge as one.

“Notturno” begins with ceremonial drones flowing forth from the center of the cosmos…the effect like slowly lapping wavefronts of alien sound. Massive sub bass bubble bursts are guided by gentle tabla rhythmics, with the track taking on the feel of a berceuse as it lulls the mind into the world of dreams. Tremolo picked strings swell into magnificent arcs of post-rock wonderment—which trail like shooting stars across an expansive night sky—and my mind is drawn to Mogwai perhaps, even as the rest of the groove more so resembles the sundowner balearica of Max Santilli. Pads cry, moan, and morph into robotic baby babble, while simultaneously creating clouds of comfort the float the soul. Twinkling tones of silver and gold ping in the distance as the the mind drifts further towards visages of childlike spirits sleeping in moonlit clearings, where leaves and grass generate organic rhythms that merge with melting sonics as they rain down from the stars. Closing track “Radiomessaggio” begins with the titular radio messages, the origin unknown as Rusconi phaser-blasts the sounds into a body of billowing cosmic gas. Distorted voices and conversations from past lives are buried in layers of glittering noise while plucked tones of mutating glass warble and worm through the fractalized air. Snippets of sound are caught in malfunctioning delay machines, causing feedback oscillations to trail off to infinity, and as modulating bass sweeps filter through meditative cycles, the aforementioned tones of glass splinter into shards of screaming feedback. Heavenly organ drones sit beneath these layers of solar skree…a sort of new age incantation fighting against brain piercing psychsonics…as if some Seahawks or Experimental Audio Research-esque space ceremonial has been merged with the crazed treble psychedelia of Vibracathedral Orchestra or Sunroof!. Esoteric tones of kosmische energy explode into supernovas of strange colorations, sonar sonics pull the body and spirit towards some aqueous netherworld, and as the track moves to a close, warming bass waves and plucked abstractions swim together through an echoing dreamspace.

(images from my personal copy)

I’ve been focused of late on an exciting musical collective based around Abstrack Records, which encompasses a range of artists from the Nantes scene, as well as related acts throughout Europe. Since I haven’t had a chance to write yet about Abstrack’s slate of releases, I would like to spend some time doing so here in the introduction. The label debuted with Fréquence Pure Vol. 1, which featured DJ Solange’s broken beats and layers of minimalist club magic, with gleaming IDM metals, hovering angel voices, big blasts of bass, and demented synth riff distortions. As well, there were the desert caravan dance rhythms, world percussion tapestries, marauding basslines, snake charmer guitars, mystical woodwinds, and cosmic trance electronics of Vidock’s the Balek Band, whose Danse PrimitiveonBeauty & The Beat was also a major favorite of mine, though I regrettably never reviewed it. Next came Dreamtown Ethnic Cylinder, another multi-artist mélange featuring Sun Lounge favorites 404 generating an alien paradise of ever morphing exotica rhythms, with mysterious sirens swimming across exo-planetary landscapes, and stoned eruptions of braindance beat hypnotics overlaid by buzzing waves of granular noise. As well, Malcolm delivered body-beating techno drums amidst extraterrestrial synth slides and mutating displays of equatorial metal, with evil acid lines pulsing and breakdowns into ritualistic free jazz drum madness. And closing out Dreamtown Ethnic Cylinder is label main man Vidock, whose anxious breakbeats possess a ritualistic tribal energy that merges rave and rainforest, while also featuring extended world drum freakouts. Lysergic angels serenade the sky, pitch-shifting voices chant strange spells, gemstone hazes sparkle in the sunlight, and in a peak-time climax, jacking acid trance rhythms support a solar choir and their hymns of celestial fantasy and ecstatic wonderment.

Abstrack dropped an edit 12” next, featuring two works from Vidock, and one each from Edits de Nantes and Fanch. And here, balearic beats cruise in the desert moonlight and reed and fuzz leads howl, as idiophones cycle against ethereal pads and an expressive crooner pleads into the night; tribal trance grooves are slowed to a feverish acid chug and psych folk riffs loop through filtering cosmic mists while throat sung mysticisms intersperse with spiritual chants; sassy French prog meets Latin fusion, wherein conga line drums, solar horns, and liquid basslines work the body beneath joyous shouts and piano and steel pan hypnotics; and Afro-Carribean rhythms shuffle aside slapfunk basslines, with tropical electronics, ecstatic singing, and soloing brass all recalling Dementos-era Yasuaki Shimizu. Which brings me at last to Kanot’s Hit & Run, the newest release on Abstrack, and a spellbinding two track/two remix adventure. On the originals, Can-style krautfunk basslines ping, pong, and pulse, over infectious breakbeats or minimalist jazz fusion grooves, while the background swirls with psychotropic shimmers, LSD-glimmers, and refracting webs of echo. Neon-hued synth leads rocket towards universes unknown, and electric and acoustic guitars color the spectrum via heavy doom riffs, liquid fuzz leads, palm-muted echo patterns, and jangling webs of forest folk psychedelia. As for the remixes, Vidock morphs “Turbulens” into a minimal expanse of tribal club drumming and esoteric dub stimulation. Acid lines filter through hazes of fire, basslines rattle the ribcage, and mysterious voices babble into the void, with the track continually breaking down into cold clouds of delirium drone. Then, The Pilotwings’ remix of “Hit & Run” takes the listener on a horizontal rave odyssey awash in mystical magic, wherein ceremonial drums build ever towards ecstasy, futuristic angel voices chop into chill-out trance euphoria, laser light arpeggios fire across parallel dimensions, and spiritual choirs sing hymns of the interstellar abyss.

Kanot - Hit & Run (Abstrack Records, 2021)
Spectral shimmers fade in at the start of “Hit & Run,” like burnished metals reflecting a blinding light. Fairy voices sourced by one or both of Nose and Annsoe intertwine with telephonic tracers while new age pads morph, bend, and swirl…with threads of silver and rainbow intertwining. Crazed tropical slides rain down in the style of Len Leise as bulbous dub funk bass riffs drop onto the mix, pushing so much air as they move through fat bottomed pulses and hammer-on licks, with each vibration rendered in stunning detail. Tight funk beats work the body from ear to ear—the drums seemingly double tracked, or even featuring a dual drummer attack…like Jaki Liebezeit playing against himself—and the Holger Czukay style basslines continue generating a storm of psychotropic groove, as further layers of liquid lysergia are added via palm muting echo licks, and distorted Floyian funk guitars. Gonzo synth leads beam in from alien galaxies, with polychromatic melodies dancing star-to-star and mind-bending runs ascending at hyperspeed through aqueous baths of delay and reverb. Dubwise echoes refract across the mix, sassy voices speak mystical spells, and ethereal angel choirs drone softly through an ethereal haze, with claps cracking and laser light pads climbing towards the heavens. The groove is deeply infectious and unsettled at once, possessing as it does a sort of anxious energy that refuses to ever quite lock in, with Kanot preferring to keep the mind and body ever on the edge of psychedelic explosion. At some point the bassline backs into an understated shadow pulse, leaving space for trippy palm muted guitar percolations and body-moving breakbeats that converse across the stereo field. Spindly synthesizer fx crawl across the surface of the mind and ripping fuzz guitar solo enters the scene, reaching towards those Tony Iommi-levels of stoner psych shred as swaths of star ocean vapor threaten to subsume the mix. Riffs, licks, and melodic phrases from all across the track combine towards the end in progressive rock and 70s groove splendor, with fuzz synths and fuzz guitars spraying LSD vapors, tropical tracers melting down, breathy voices purring sensual mysteries, and summery funk riffs jangling in cloud of overdrive…until it all slowly fades away.

All the way at the other end of the B-side sits The Pilotwings’ remix of “Hit & Run,” which begins with a primordial hum that slowly resolves into a cosmic choir soundbath. Tribal percussions hit and bubbling rave electronics make serpentine motions in the darkness, with cymbals rattling and shakers riding on pulses of thick sub bass smoke. Chopped up trance vocals beam in from the space of dreams…these floating technoid angles singing over rhythmic synthesizers that mimic the songs of frogs and insects. Massive swells of sound repeatedly resolve into a climax of ritualistic drumming that quickly recedes, leaving space for progressive sequences to filter towards psychedelic abstraction. Playful kosmische arpeggios evoke a harp made of laser light and orchestral pads blare like sirens as they skim across some neon ocean surface, with a beat finally forming in the shape of slow methodical pounding…as if tribal trance has been reduced to a pure essence of mystical balearica, and transformed into a sundown ceremonial of shadowy dream magic. Fogs of golden glitter splash off myriad ride cymbals and massive wood drums are seemingly smashed by giants…all as the droning choirs diffuse in before decaying towards infinity. Acid threads colored in dayglo hues wrap around the mind as the immersive bass sculpting generates warming waves that float the body, and as everything cuts away dramatically, spiritual choirs are left to sing their soft songs of esoterica above a bed of chittering insects. Drum fills and cymbal rolls portend a progressive trance explosion that never quite comes, with the Pilotwings steadfastly refusing to drop any sort of structured break or club beat. Instead, they keep the mind locked into an eternal state of ecstatic ritual…the vibe like some futuristic energy glide through forests made of melting light, or some old world ceremonial of ancient and unknowable magic performed by space age druids…their spectral incantations cast across a sky suffused by sonar sequences and sparkling starshine.

“Turbulens” begins with repetitive industrial sound cycles smothered in phaser, before transitioning into a 70s-style jazz fusion and space funk stomp, with bass reducing to a low down throb, and interspersed with heady slapback lizard licks. The vibe is somewhere between early 70s Miles Davis and early 00s Circle, as the snare pops energetically on the beat, hesitant kick drums hit off of it, and splayed shimmer patterns flow across the cymbals…all while a polyrhythmic synth line snakes through the air, bringing with it touches of spy movie exotica. Suddenly, the track transitions towards acid folk and prog rock balladry, as acoustic guitars play to a mysterious moon and liquid metals rain down from stars. Basslines enter to phase and flange as they strut through dark forest undergrowth, with their bending lines smothered in pot smoke. Jazz cymbals splash as majestic chord changes portend visions of epic fantasy, and fuzz guitars are reduced to an ambient howl…the whole thing like the more tripped out and horizontal moments from Mushrooms Project, or like Led Zeppelin wandering through a fourth world daydream. Everything cuts away, leaving fluids to babble through corridors of ice and stone, while funky echo basslines slip-slide into the void…the jam slow, low, and zoned out. Kick and electronic snare hold a skeletal blues beat, hand drums add touches of tropical intensity, and the prog folk guitars reemerge to case shadowy spells of neofolk psychedelia while the stereo field overflows with ghostly moans and hallucinatory vapors. A fuzz guitar solo blazes towards the sky—setting the air aflame with distorted waves of fire—and eventually, basslines resume their liquid stoner strut, resulting in a laid back proto-doom groove, one that again recalls Black Sabbath, or perhaps their ancestors Dead Meadow, only morphed and mutated through the lens of dub, and given an extra dash of balearic magic. As massive tom fills storm across the stereo field, a fuzz riff enters to duel with the basslines, which pushes the vibes of stoner rock and psychedelic doom towards a glorious maximum, while also recalling NorCal acid jam legends Mammatus. Then, moving towards the end, everything seems to bliss out towards peaceful waters…but the flaming guitar solo continues growing in intensity, spitting waves of burning delirium as it screams across the sky.

Vidock’s “Turbulens (Matrix Remix)” begins again with looping industrial fluids, which soon cut away, leaving a doped out dub drum stomp. A trapkit bashes through the void as each hit splashes off layers of black dust and haze, and all through the air, chittering electronics dance around a morphing choir of the cosmic void…their cold and terrifying aria proceeding over chugging subsonic fluids, ricocheting hand percussions, and maniacal trap kit pyrotechnics. The drums cut away at times, leaving the soul to float through chasms of haunted machine hum and frozen ambient abstraction, and each time the rhythms return, the track seems to grow in intensity. Morphing electro patterns reverse and pan, creating some sort of mystical prog trance sequence…only slowed to the pace of an opium den fever vision…while enigmatic voices speak unknowable incantations. The rhythms morph into a lurching groove, with acid tracers firing ear to ear, and the beats cut again, leaving basslines to vibrate violently and snares to crack in a fog of frozen crystal. Later—after a stretch of oscillatory psychoactivation—the tribal ceremonial of tripped out dub dancing returns, with melodic esoterica blowing in on a breath of galactic wind. The percussion bounces and beats with a ritualized energy, and kaleidoscopic panoramas of rimshots and bell taps merge seamlessly with acidic blips and neon-colored IDM atmospherics. Towards the end, drum and bass begin filtering and transforming into corrosive clouds of darkness while acid electronics fire chaotically. Melodic themes of triumph blow through the mix trailing wisps of polychrome light, and as the hypnotizing dance grooves return, ethereal leads shimmer and shine far in the distance…their shape hardly discernible, yet radiating layers of glowing harmonic feedback. Anxious hyperspeed cymbal rolls rustle in the background like uncountable insect wings, and at last, a voice washes the mix clean, leaving behind panning streaks of oceanic ether and choir of crickets greeting a glorious sunset.

(images from my personal copy)

I have been mostly absent as of late due to the pressures of completing my PhD studies, but now that the work there is finishing, I am trying to return to regular reviewing. And for months and months now, one of the records I’ve most wanted to discuss has been Coyote’s Buzzard Country, released last year on their home station Is it Balearic? Recordings. In fact, my delay has been so extreme that, not only has Coyote released an accompanying Buzzard Country Remixes 12”—which I will cover here as well—they have also dropped the incredible Return to Life 12”, and even announced a new 2xLP slated for the summer called The Mystery Light. But better late than never, and there is no way I can pass up the chance to at last write in depth about the music of Timm Sure and Ampo. I say “at last” because, despite the fact that I consider Coyote amongst my very favorite recording artists, you would be forgiven for not knowing that by scanning the Sun Lounge archives. Though I’ve had opportunity to discuss their work here and there via remixes (such as on Blank & Jones’ Relax: The Sunset Sessions 2 and Joe Morris’ Cloud Nine 12”), by some strange turn of fate, Coyote has released no vinyl of their own since this blog’s inception…something that only changed very recently. Indeed, prior to 2020, the last time the duo put out solo works on wax was their stunning 2016 run, which included the Song Dogs LP, the Fight the Future 12” on Clandestino, and the seventh EP in their long running self-titled series on Is It Balearic? Which is not to say they weren’t active, and in fact, Timm Sure and Ampo delivered a really great set of digital singles and EPs in collaboration with Music for Dreams, and additionally, they remained active with remix and DJ work. As well, Buzzard Country was due quite a bit earlier than 2020, but was unfortunately plagued by production delays. To at last get to the point, this is all a roundabout way of saying that I am really excited to have plenty of Coyote to write about now and in the future, so that I can finally pay proper tribute to this foundational duo of the modern balearic beat. 

As I’ve explored the balearic soundworld, Ampo and Timm Sure have always been beacons of light guiding me on my path, whether through their eclectic productions as Coyote, through the curation of Is It Balearic?,Über, and the Magic Wand edit series, or through their mixes and DJ sets, which are typically loaded with unheard treasures that lean towards the trippier and dubbier ends of the chill out spectrum. And it is this tendency towards the psychoactive that most endears me to Coyote, for the duo have always championed an authentic balearic spirit, one that foregrounds the music’s connections to the hippie hedonist heydays of Ibiza, to the second summer of love, and to a spirit of ecstatic abandon, one that is equally imbued with a magical sense of melancholy…of a feeling of being in paradise, but knowing it can’t last…as if the moments of revelatory magic—of wild nights dancing and sunrise comedowns—are tempered in real-time with senses of longing and regret. Which brings me finally to Buzzard Country, Coyote’s fifth full-length LP and a pitch-perfect encapsulation of their signature mixture of wistful melodic nostalgia and daydream seaside grooving. Across the album, baggy beats morph between downbeat disco, stoner dub, and world exotica while bottom heavy basslines work the body. Echoing vocal samples thread around hand drums tapestries, emotional washes of synthesis flow over radiant piano chords, and at crucial moments, the exotica guitar flourishes of longtime collaborator Saro Tribastone carry the mind away to lands of faraway fantasy. As for the Buzzard Country Remixes 12”, the A-side is given over to the Hardway Brothers, who brilliantly transform the album’s “Sun Culture” into varying landscapes of ultra deep Chain Reaction style dub wizardry. Then on the B-side, Woolfy vs. Projections and Max Essa respectively flip album stand outs “Shimmer Dub” and “Ranura de Marihuana” into their own specific strains of equatorial dancefloor euphoria, with each remix pushing the mind, body, and spirit towards maximal beach boogie mania. 

Coyote - Buzzard Country (Is It Balearic? Recordings, 2020)
“Soaring” begins with buzzard calls and hovering breaths of synthesis evoking a new dawn. Ripples form in the ether via bubbling squarewave synth leads, and pulsating dub bass sits beneath a blanket of sighing strings. The carrion calls continue streaking through the mix and celestial pianos rain down while echoing playfully across the spectrum. Plucked bass electronics bounce in counterpoint and hesitate woodwind glimmers call to mind flashing laser lights beneath a beautiful sea surface…almost as if a flute has been transmuted into a rapid fire fractal vibration. At times the strings back away, leaving layers of rainbow colored ocean ambiance to flutter and dance, all before ending with white noise delay oscillations that mimic the swell of ocean waves. Then in “Soft Top Saab,” an echo-soaked voice muses on the sunrise, with chills running down the spine as the solar affirmations are increasingly surrounded by space age string synths, and by Sara Tribastone’s mystical guitar filigrees. Reversing melodies enter the spectrum and swell the heart while shakers and tambourines hold a gentle beat. Tribastone’s guitar serenades softly overhead, with plucked textures of synthetic wood and stone dancing in the background. Further delay-laced pianos fade into view, with the track ebbing and flowing…growing and receding…and sometimes backing down into understated back and forth between guitar and piano, wherein harmonious brass layers and swells of spectral space glitter moving at the periphery. The result is a conversational interchange between seaside melancholy and romantic nostalgia, one which is eventually superseded by cosmic flutters, soft six string dances, and the spoken spells of a reggae mystic, who gives thanks to the sun, and its bounty of restorative light.

Dusty acoustic guitars and sunrise vapors introduce “Shimmer Dub,” while dancing dub bass portends the first real taste of a groove. A rocking hypno-rhythm comes into focus and laid back snares guide the infectious glide, while tablas roll overhead and evocative vocal layers thread through the mix. Steel pan synths are seen through the titular shimmer and wavering wavefronts of blurred melody wash over everything, until the mix drops down into a haze of stoned exotica comprised of a minimalist pallet of tabla rhythms, bleary-eyed pads, and thrilling vocal incantations…the effect like awakening on the shores of some faraway ocean paradise, with visages of desert caravan rituals preceding in the distance. The dubbed out groove eventually resurges, with passages given over to extended echo percussion experiments and the fragile songs of tropical idiophones. Feminine vocals glow like some intoxicating gas of multi-hued magic, and springy basslines guide the body while hi-hats and snare work through a psychedelic skank. Smoldering currents of ether move through the stereo field and moments of subtle intensity erupt from the horizontal vibe out…with airy woodwinds shrouded in static, claps cracking, and hand drums creating webs of groove mesmerism. And as the beat starts to vaporize, echo oscillations set the air aflame amidst fantasy orchestrations.

“Ranura de Marihuana” bathes in echo acoustic guitars that seem beamed in from some distant past…these evocations of classical folk music futurized via layers of fx. An ecstatic scream washes the mix clean, and a four-to-the-floor kick drum emerges to pound in the void, while overhead, Flamenco-indebted guitars spin webs of magic and reverberating vocals call to the spirits of sea and sky….sometimes whispering, other times shrieking wildly into the night. Sub-earthen bass movements are felt more than head, with exotic dub lines moving far beneath the surface. Bongos and congas pop and nervous shaker patterns lead the downbeat disco strut, while guitars work through further Mediterranean hooks and Iberian flourishes. A moment is given over to heavy bass and kaleidoscopic hand percussion–with scatting vocals, reverberating snaps, and lost souls wailing in desperation–and when the groove snaps back, there are touches of tango kissing the preceding, which bring to mind a rose-in-mouth glide across some dark and mysterious dancefloor, wherein spindly psych folk guitar melodies work the mind and airy drum rhythmics entrance the body. The kick climbs back towards dancefloor strength, with desert mystic percussions moving all around the mix and vocals morphing though fever dream echo layers. Elements from across the track refract through oscillating delay machines, and touches of rave haunt the rhythms, especially as subsonic basslines and subdued breakbeats work together.

A single piano note brings light to the darkness in “Sun Culture” and layers of radiance rain down in the form of heart-melting piano chordscapes, with some of that Screamadelicasoul bliss suffusing the progressions. Warming pads envelope everything and deep dub pulses walk down white sand beaches, with shakers and lysergic breaths giving shape to the groove. Hi-hats, snare taps, and beachside bongos enter and buzzing guitar notes give off waves of golden light while overhead, liquids drip from the roofs of ocean cliff caverns. The single piano note continues to glow while souflul chords hold the mind in a state of psychedelic rapture, and space age ethers blind all vision as they spread outwards, then recede. Coyote move the track progressively towards a state of horizontal bliss, with almost everything washing away except the summery piano incantations, which are so soaked in reverb as to generate billowing cloudforms with every single note. Hushed rhythms return and hand drums take on a slight sense of urgency while pads generate layers of oceanic warmth, resulting in an audial invitation to greet the rising sun, and a naturalistic tribute to crashing waves and drifting clouds.

Intergalactic pads breath in “Dos Canas,” with tones wispy and suffused with inner light. Palm-muting electric guitars dance like bubbles through the ocean blue, and a touch of kosmische ambiance is soon tempered by bulbous dub basslines and splayed out layers of percussion, wherein the mechanic and organic merge seamlessly. Electroid sketches and seed shakers move in time as a slow and low balearic skank emerges, with glorious tones of brass pulsing overhead before ascending to the heavens on currents of humid tropical air. Hand drums circle the mix as the heavy atmospheres recede, leaving vaporous rhythms and golden synth strands to intertwine. Heartwarming chords give off mirage shimmers as the dub bass works its way back in, bringing with it further layers of world drum delirium. Soft sirens pan before giving way to more of the ascendent brass synthesis, and hisses of white noise add layers of subtle psychotropia. Snares are blasted into bursts of desert sand and all throughout the mix, various strands of melody and harmony are caught within oscillating delay cycles…progressively distorting and roaring into the ether. Shakers and 16th note hi-hats lead the groove while bongos and idiophones dance playfully against the snare and kick, until it all breaks down into an ambient outro of serene static, sighing strings, and layers of phasing rainbow light.

“Feedback Valley” closes the show with synth incantations portending the glow of a glorious sunrise, while shakers generate an infectious shuffle. Tribastone and his acoustic guitar explore Flamenco landscapes and a four-four kick drums hits against the body while layers of synthesis radiate compelling colorations. Babbling voices ride a serpentine synth sequence and touches of acid bass move in support, with cut-off filters opening as the snare drops, creating a head-nodding and body bopping groove that lifts the spirit towards the sky. The sequential electronics are so effective as they bob and weave through the mix, creating an effortless vibe of beach dance perfection…of hands-in-the-air euphoria and the abandonment of all worry or fear. Additional touches of six string sunshine push the mind every towards the shores of Ibiza and during a breakdown into burning delay feedback, synthesizers filter into solar squelch and guitars drift towards psychedelic delirium. A slow yet anthemic snare roll calls to mind big room trance as it brings the groove back into focus, now with 3D synth snaps firing in the left ear as the ever-present sequence reduces to a calming purr. Tribastone continues letting loose threads of sunshine lysergia and points of synthetic light swell into magnificent globes of blinding incandenscence. And towards the end, an echo-shrouded choir of the sea sings beneath a brief guitar fantasia before it all washes away in a scream of oscillation.

Coyote - Buzzard Country Remixes (Is It Balearic? Recordings, 2021)
The Hardway Brothers take “Sun Culture” into ultra-deep territory across two versions on the A-side, with the first being the very aptly named “Balearic Channel Remix”…which is of course a reference to the work of Mark Ernestus and Moritz von Oswald. Underground warehouse kick drums pound beneath hissing space fluids, as a low down Chain Reaction-style groove emerges, though with its eyes locked on a melting sunset panorama. Liquiform chords flow into cold industrial caverns and string synths suffuse the reverberating spaces with splashes of sunshine, while sub bass motions vibrate the soul. Shadowy tracers flit across the sky and DMT vibrato waves squiggle at hyperspeed, yet their effect is blunted and muted. Claustrophobic clouds fade in then out while melodic piano chordstrokes reflect in strange ways off of glowing walls of stone, their effect like gemstones glimmering underwater, yet with their luster sanded away by the march of time. Muted dub chords are caught in crackling delay chains and the deep kicks and jacking bass never relent in their heads down, hands-in-the-air stomp. Snares are reduced to a whisper and shaker patterns cause head-bobbing hypnotism as funky chords bring touches of liquid fusion grooving…only as if proceeding in the middle of a dub techno fever dream. Insectoid chitters move in from all corners of the mix, sawing sirens swirl into screams of feedback, and all the while, drum circle flourishes are shattered into a web echoing delirium.

Next comes Sun Culture “(Hardway Brothers Meet Monkton Uptown),” which sees the bass going even deeper somehow, as growling riddims menace the mind and rattle the ribcage. We soon find ourselves in another subaquatic dub techno dopamine dream, wherein kick, snare and hi-hat lock in for maximal hypnotic effect. Sometimes the bass guitar of Duncan Gray seems to take on a post-punk drug chug edge, and at some point, the rhythms pull away, leaving chopped up voices to decay into the void. Bassline and beats return and streaks of feedback sing softly over everything, while fogs of seafoam move at the outer edges of the stereo field. Clouds of solar static are seen from millions of miles away and traces of flamboyant fuzz guitar are submerged into a pooling vortex of deep dub delirium, emerging stretched out and mutated into currents of neon starshine. Gray’s melodic basslines serenade through the underground club grooves, those funky chords return to sing their 70s fusion songs within layers of sighing feedback, and increasingly, the mix is overwhelmed by distorted blasts of drug-induced haze. Abstracted voices filter from one ear to the other…their unintelligible spells of esoteric mystery pushing the mind ever further towards astral activation. And towards the ends, the original tracks Primal Scream-style piano chord structures can just be heard amidst feedback fires, delay detritus, and morphing vocal abstractions.

In the Woolfy vs Projections mix of “Shimmer Dub,” the original track’s hand percussions intermingle with gurgling rhythmic fluids…the effect like wandering upon some tribal jungle ceremonial. Big blasts of downer synth bass are soaked in reverb, repetitive synth pulses tickle the mind, and pillowy arpeggios flow into view while those familiar synthetic steel drums shine in the sunlight. Fingers roll across myriad skins as the kick drum drops away, leaving the mind to swim in a world of equatorial energy. Then, as the bass drum resumes–with shakers never relenting–a new bassline emerges, bringing with it a heavy touch of wiggling squiggling Italo boogie. The vibe is hesitant…anxious even…with a persistent refusal to lock in, and as bass bursts grow in intensity, the rest of the mix begins reverberating into a balearic dreamscape. Following a delirious pause, the track explodes into flamboyant disco funk perfection, as sweltering chord hazes melt from the sky and bouncing basslines join an infectious and tropically tinged body groove. Chords scat, virtual marimbas dance, synthetic steel pans shimmer across the spectrum, and swells of white light synthesis overwhelm the mind…the whole thing as massive a groove as there could possibly be. Touches of electro kiss the rhythms and futuristic synth riffs fire as we back down into a swinging breakbeat, with rapid keyboard riffs locking into heady funk cycles and stadium-sized tom tom fills splaying out across the stereo field. Guitar licks are soaked in sunshine as they lead a dubwise swing, and as we explode once more into the block rocking groove, double time shakers and hats push the vibe towards dance party mania…all as coral-colored leads rush through star ocean fx clouds.

Max Essa’s take on “Ranura de Marihuana” sees a four-four kick smacking with infectious disco dance energy and hand percussion flowing all around. A snare crack introduces another groove indebted to Italo boogie, with big bottomed synth basslines accentuating the vibes of beach dance euphoria. Shakers spread into sandy clouds of atmosphere and heatwave pads sweat and squelch as starlight arppegios race across the sky. The vibe of Ibizan melancholia is here perfected, causing body and soul to merge in hedonistic ecstasy, and though the track resembles one of Essa’s characteristic blue ocean dancefloor cruisers, its a little slower and baggier than usual, which fits completely with Coyote’s zoner stoner vibe. Seascape pianos bring a peaktime fee and at certain moments, the groove momentarily recedes, only to rush back in on an infectious snare crack. Ivory melodies are increasingly strange and psychotropic as they flutter across the mix, with decaying vibration tails carried away on an aqueous breeze. The radiant piano chords and vocalizations from the original swim into the stereo field as Essa barrels down into a heavy bassline stomp, with every pulling away aside from smeared out voices and 70s prog rock pads that evoke a string orchestra tuning to the sounds of the stars. Further clap cracks bring back layers of equatorial euphoria and the vocals are used to incredible effect, with echoing snippets repurposed as anthemic hooks. Pianos continue their alien dance over relaxed disco rhythms and snapping funk basslines, and as we move towards the end, claps and basslines fire rapidly as vocals morph through slapback oscillations…all before dropping into one last expanse of seaside dancefloor magic, with dub disco beats, infectious world percussion rolls, and a pleading voices diffusing towards a gorgeous sunset horizon.

(images from my personal copies)