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01. NATE YOUNG - Untitled
02. NATE YOUNG - Untitled
03. NATE YOUNG - Demdike Stare Re-Agression
01. NATE YOUNG - Untitled
02. NATE YOUNG - Untitled
03. NATE YOUNG - Untitled
04. NATE YOUNG - Untitled
05. NATE YOUNG - Untitled
06. NATE YOUNG - Untitled
07. NATE YOUNG - Untitled
08. NATE YOUNG - Untitled
09. NATE YOUNG - Untitled
10. NATE YOUNG - Untitled
11. NATE YOUNG - Untitled
12. NATE YOUNG - Untitled
ARTIST
TITLE
Regression Vol. 3 (Other Days)
FORMAT
2LP

LABEL
CATALOG #
DDS 007LP DDS 007LP
GENRE
RELEASE DATE
10/1/2013

Avowed Nate Young fiends Demdike Stare have trapped the Wolf Eyes lynchpin's stunning third Regression volume for a necessary vinyl edition on their eponymous label. Other Days represents Young's most labyrinthine incursion into the nether zone between waking life and nightmarish, cryptographic noise. The recordings stem from an exhibition of lathe-cut etchings and paintings by Young and his wife, Alivia Zivich, installed at Tokyo's Haus Gallery. The process involved designing original images for 22 8" x 8" pieces of acrylic, which in turn inspired 22 audio compositions which were then lathe-cut into the acrylic. The process of lathe-cutting transformed the audio itself, and vice-versa with the original images, resulting in a constant mutation between sound and image with no end in sight. The process ended abruptly, with Young and Zivich surrendering to rest or sleep. In key with the rest of the series, Regression Vol. 3 (Other Days) irreversibly ruptures or at least corrupts the liminal boundaries of its infected victims with Lynch-ian aptitude. Dragged down to Young's beta pitch we become petrified, sleep-paralyzed witnesses to possessed hallucinations. His drums and tape-stretched drones land in time-dilating polymetric patterns, again uncannily recalling the timbre of vintage Photek drums -- struck objects, metallic gongs and loose-skinned bass -- only strung-out like the sounds of morphine-dosed poltergeist and caterwauling harpies. We could say the secret lies in his sense of deferred anticipation, but then it wouldn't be a secret, yet there's something so ill and unquantifiable about his sense of timing that's just dangerously affective. Last copies...