REVIEW: lb honne - a move [vorgott]

Very few producers have consistently tapped into the deepest recesses of universal niceness. Or make music open to interpretation and not imposing any particular emotional charge, let alone possess the power to trigger personal memories.

Karl Primo, co-founder of the Project Indigo label, under his lb honne alias, has done it again by honing his sound as if to thoroughly warm up our wintered and omicroned days. Released via the new sister-label 'vorgott,' the seven-track album 'a move' works as a wholesome essay loosely influenced by sonic hauntology. The elusive genre plays around the concept that is “deemed to be haunted by a subtle association with something that would otherwise be unrelated to it,” creating a “sort of time loop where the listener is unable to distinguish past from present from future.”  

Yet 'a move' is not haunted by nostalgia nor provokes the hallucinating escapism. On the contrary, it comfortably places the listener into the present and makes them feel good about it. Easygoing and simple on the surface, all tracks on the album are similar in spirit, and their overall uplifting attitude hides complexity to keep the playfulness and irony intact. 

The ‘ark love’ opening the album sets an inviting tone, carefree with milky synth in a scaled-down rhythmic layout. Picking up on energy in the ‘a move’, a female voice casually renders an untroubled lightness by crooning over the distorted, gently looping riffs and texturized facets. 

The 'lost sounn' slightly lowers gear by painting faded footage with soulful sleepwalking beats blended with affinity. Then proceed to make a whimsical sensation with the layered, micro-edited breakbeats, letting a nostalgic fascination linger in the 'untitled 09' background. 

Like reflections on the bottom of a murky glass, 'making matters' further flattening the sense of time with its indistinct, tonally warped melody spread around the unsetting ticking and analog-decayed production. And goes on to properly unwind with a quirky gist of "yea, you're right" repeated mantra in the nonchalant ‘a means a.’ The most club-oriented 'majki b' closes the album drawing on the duality of engaging, elevating rhythms and impromptu melancholic piano. 

Patient and never in your face, 'a move' is the music that naturally puts you back in touch with yourself and opens to experience. And that's the beauty of it.