V-stók | Primordial Soup
Amek Collective (CS/DL)
From Bulgarian producer V-stók comes the irresistibly psychedelic plunge into Primordial Soup. Slowly awakening with enveloping layers of early morning ambient textures Omne Vivum Ex Vivo evolves with a time-released set of momentary pulsations and reverb. Mitosis follows building a chillier atmosphere from the initial junket of minimal chord variation, now separating between bass lows and sizzling effects. The space is dark, arcuated and tunnel-like. It feeds on an anonymous alien force, constantly ducking from earshot.
Empyrean + Eccentric: Effectively Primordial Soup is a new, new age sci-fi soundtrack without an attached motion picture. A vivid collection of scenarios, all quite dramatic interpolated through a few filters. This Life especially exemplifies these qualities: glassy, inflated, lively ambling. And on the title track an activated (literal) broth seems to be in-progress. And whisking liquids aside, the physicality of the track, with bells, and other mastication, offer imaginative references to aural alchemy.
Electrolysis howls so softly, gurgling a bit in continuation of the already unfolding plot. The track serves as an intermediate spacing here, more about setting and tone than an inclusive piece unto itself. Guided by light and levitation is Food Chain, an otherwise haunted ambient work emboldened by cosmic interference and bent gizmos. This is how you make space music, low and slow, letting the air slipstream on its own accord. In this way V-stók allows for a sleight of hand, of ear, of mind – in other words, intermittent improvisation in an otherwise bridled affair. The track is perfectly programmed in the mix of the seven appearing herein, in fact, after much pondering the questions of ‘what’s out there’ the composer allows glimpses of the wild entities floating in the cosmos.
The most madcap moment comes at the very end when Golden Carnivore oozes from all angles. Still, though it’s a contained chaos of noisy inflections, it remains quite a unique listen. The unexpected turn here draws from rumbles and hums, then ducks and revs with a sense of glitchy restraint, leaving the listener out on the very edge. Only thirty-five copies are floating out there, you may want to nab one of these!
More: Amek Collective