S A D - Studia Spiritual (2022)

Vasily Stepanov and Vlad Dobrovolski assemble their litany of side-projects and pseudonyms on this latest S A D-branded set of distorted de-magnetized cassette music that positions itself somewhere between early tape music (think Vladimir Ussachevsky), fourth world rhythmexperiments and kosmische soundscapes. Very good. Swiftly following on from Vlad Dobrovolski's convincing "Playbacks for Dreaming" set earelier this year, "Studia Spiritual" reunites the composer with Vasily Stepanov. A "tape duo" at heart, they flit back and forth between recognizable concréte concepts and more contemporary explorations, ducking from eroded Basinski-esque ambience to splattered GRM abstraction and into synthesized modes more comparable to early Popol Vuh or Tangerine Dream. Dobrovolski kicks open the set with 'Far Above the Ground', a transcendent analog synth symphony that's as ornate as 1950s soundtrack music, and as otherworldly as Michel Redolfi's gamechanging underwater recordings. Dubbing the sounds to tape, Dobrovolski is able to sit cooly out of time, mimicking another era while using compositional tricks that provide him with a contemporary edge. In some ways this technique is in line with modern fourth world practitioners - he creates a sound that's of no fixed abode temporally, rather than geographically. On 'Ini Ke Edi', Stepanov and Dobrovolski weld abstract electronic elements to jazz forms, evoking a moody cabaret atmosphere without resorting to tired stereotypes. Brushed drum strokes are just about audible beneath synth fx and unstable pads, but it's the pitch-shifted xylophone that give this one its alien, easy listening flex. Stepanov's P_SH material is more solidly rhythmic, and slides into hauntological zones on 'Merging Bottoms' and '++', bending analog funk on the former and Schulze-ian cloud-punching gear on the latter. On 'Netoa Vi' he dives even deeper into the genre, reminding us of Plone's enduringly sweet "Press A Key" EP, or Broadcast's genius "Microtronics" releases. Elsewhere, Dobrovolski slides into a smoother exotica mode on his two Fitz Ellarald compositions, 'Unnatural Natural' and 'Unnatural Natural', the latter of which is the album's most unnerving track - all flittering modular electronics and no-place field recordings.