The Whorls by Malvern Brume

[static noise],
[pulsation],
[gong tones],
[electric clatter],
[soft metal ticking],
[another gong],
[electronics quietly move on],
[a synth buzz],
[starry-eyed piano melodies],
[icy drones],
[somebody combs his bones],
[breath against crescendo notes].
[a final kitchen sink percussion],
[the calculator calculates on],
[a creature departs from the scene].
While listening to Malvern Brume’s new cassette tape for Kashual Plastik, the author of these lines reasoned about scripts for notorious movie opening scenes. Those impressive ones, that suck all in into the whirlwind of a celluloid story, brightened by a touch of evil. The London based experimental producer’s art tempts you into a veiled domain, where the notes between the notes, the sounds underneath the sounds create characters of their own, stretching the story into each listener’s very own depth of vision. Arcane speedy slow-motion suspense screened in aged technicolored resolution. Everything you hear is a character, every character is a story, ready to be shoot and screened at your very own inner cinema.
[dispersed piano melodies],
[a hollow PC beat],
[electronics nervously interact],
[the piano continues],
[digital zooming],
[gong tones],
[icy drones],
[a calculator reckons],
[a dragged-off rhyme],
[soft metal clicking],
[electric speaking noise],
[breath against crescendo tones],
[somebody combs his bones],
[a synth buzz],
[pulsation].
If you like to take Malvern Brume’s new cassette tape for Kashual Plastik as an inspiration for a movie, you could use the words above as your script. Everything that happens between them, is of your own imagination. If you listen to the notes between the notes, created by the interplay of each note, whole new worlds will blow up in your inner eye.

An archive of recordings on various multimedia for preservation and discovery for posterity.
Dedicated to the subcultural underground.