Bleep

No one builds a world like Iglooghost. Tapping into the history of UK raves and pirate radio stations, his third full length album Tidal Memory Exo conjures the image of a free party held in grimy overcast shoals populated by fossilised false gods. Moving on from the entity-summoning laptop folk of Lei Line Eon, Iglooghost assumes the form of an MC broadcasting illegal tunes from a rusted oil rig, stepping ever so confidently into grimy rap and alluvial flows in these seafaring pirate transmissions.

Not only does the intricately layered multimedia lore of magnetic storms, “sporestyle” and “trenchwave” cloud rappers, and ancient trilobites worshipping “Memree” angels add context to the album, it's all embedded into the sounds themselves. Iglooghost constructs DNA-altering subaquatic anthems through his visceral, maximalist, high concept take on UK bass, like the steely subterranean verses of ‘Coral Mimic’ where growling low frequencies descend down your spine, and gushing, spewing water cannons exert abyssal pressure. Indeed, this album is at the epicentre of a quaking bass continuum, drenched in seafoam and twisted sawtooth synths, with evocative imagery wrested from alluringly esoteric lyrics.

Stepping into the deluge, ‘New Species’ skitters with vocal glitches and acid synths taken to their ultra-corrugated conclusion. Every track thereafter only raises the intensity: ‘Alloy Flea’ is a whirlpool of tangibly piercing pulses ending in hardcore decimation, ‘flux•Cocoon’ is slippery and scrubs with eviscerated beats slicing from ear to ear, and ‘Pulse Angel’ pits digital zither plucks against production that seems to break the laws of physics with how hard it slaps. Ending in apocalyptic stutters, ‘Dewdrop Signal’ severs the whole track in two with sharp waterjets and walloping rhythms as Iglooghost muses on rebuilding everything anew.

Tidal Memory Exo shows the inimitable Iglooghost at an all time high, as he threads otherworldly storytelling through his most maximalist work yet.

"「Tidal Memory Exo」 IS AN ALBUM I MADE WHILE LIVING IN A RUST-RIDDEN FLOODED SQUAT IN A WEIRD UK SEASIDE TOWN. THE AREA HAS BEEN IN AN ENDLESS STORM, CAUSING STRANGE OTHERWORLDLY PRIMORDIAL GARBAGE TO BE WASHED TO SHORE. IT'S BASICALLY ONLY POPULATED BY ROGUE JUNK-HOARDING SCRAP WEIRDOS RIGHT NOW. I'VE BEEN TRYING TO GET INVOLVED IN THE MUSIC SCENE THAT'S BUBBLING UP LOCALLY. THERE'S LOTS OF WEIRD NEW MUTATED GENRES AND ILLEGAL RADIO STATIONS POPPING UP - COMPLETELY ISOLATED FROM THE REST OF THE COUNTRY BECAUSE OF THIS MASSIVE STORM. THEY DON’T REALLY LIKE ME, BUT I SORT OF WORMED MY WAY IN AND FINALLY GOT THIS ALBUM TOGETHER. TUNES ABOUT OCEANIC SCUM, ILLEGAL TELETEXT TRANSMISSIONS, & THE PREHISTORIC TRILOBITE ANGELS LURKING IN THE SEWERS." - Iglooghost