Industrious Amazement #2

Industrious Amazement: a monthly column exploring experimental and ambient releases through Forlate’s narrative lens.

“It’s been a while since the last column, and the introductory part is always the hardest to write – not least because this month’s releases are so diverse, both musically and geographically.
There is a common thread, though: all of these releases are deeply organic – instrumentally, texturally, conceptually. Each one, in its own way, looks back and grounds itself in traditional forms. There’s something wistful running through them, a kind of “toska” – that uniquely Russian longing that Nabokov wrote about – which feels fitting for November, when the yearning to return to a time when time itself seemed gigantic runs especially deep. These five releases have been in my constant rotation for the past month, so I’m excited to share them.”

I’m always open to suggestions and recommendations – reach out via email or Instagram, especially if you’re a label or an artist.

☉ SANAM – Sametou Sawtan [Constellation]
[» listen and support here]

The Beirut sextet’s second album opens with shrieks of terror on “Harik”, gradually settling into their usual mix of steady, krautrock-ish rhythms anchoring Arabic vocals and traditional instrumentation (buzuq, mostly) alongside standard rock gear. “Sametou Sawtan” translates as “I Heard A Voice,” and the power here is impossible to ignore. Watch their Café OTO performance from last year to understand how it works – the music transfixes, suspending you between tradition and modernity, blissful trance and righteous anger – not unlike on the unexpectedly heavy “Hadicat Al Ams” here.

I saw a photograph of the Court of Lions in Alhambra today, and it keeps coming back to me  while listening to this record – that same sense of intricate precision that feels effortless. Structured freedom. The funky bass in “Sayl Damei” works like that, too, by holding the dreamier elements together without calling attention to its architecture.

☉ Širom – In the Wind of Night, Hard-Fallen Incantations Whisper [Glitterbeat]
[» listen and support here]

Before writing this, I didn’t know much about Širom beyond two things: I loved their previous album, “Utekočinjeni prestol preprostih (The Liquified Throne of Simplicity)”, and they’re from Ljubljana, Slovenia. I’d always imagined them as a large collective – maybe a small, unconventional chamber orchestra – so learning there are only three of them (Ana Kravanja, Iztok Koren, Samo Kutin) playing close to two dozen instruments, some handmade, was surprising.

If I were to describe the music in one sentence: imagine “In C” made in Central Europe and inspired by Béla Tarr. Like Sanam, there’s mysticism here too, though of a different sort, maybe closer to the Book of Job. The dynamic range is staggering – compositions move from near-silence, where you can almost hear the room itself, to grandiose, orchestral moments. Each piece unfurls like a maze, unfolding where you least expect it. The breathtaking “Curls Upon the Neck, Ribs Upon the Mountain” builds toward a soul-crushing crescendo, elevated by raw vocal performance. The 18-minute “The Hangman’s Shadow Fifteen Years On” is spine-tingling throughout, with one particularly striking passage where an onslaught of percussion eventually gives way to a mournful finale.

It’s not just that three people can technically pull off playing all these instruments. It’s how they build these gargantuan, larger-than-life compositions. A triumph of a record for sure.

☉ Piotr Kurek – Songs and Bodies [Unsound]
[» listen and support here]

Warsaw-based Piotr Kurek successfully channels Mark Hollis on his new album for Unsound. The press material graciously name-checks the ’90s post-rock pantheon – Gastr del Sol, Bark Psychosis, Labradford, The Sea and Cake, and rightfully so. This is a proud continuation of that tradition, but it’s doing something more: a unique take on the familiar sound with all the trappings of experimental music of a post-truth era. Heavily autotuned vocals, bold production decisions, looping structures that sound slightly off-grid.

The skeletal arrangements are hypnotic. Take “It Used to Be a Song”, which reminds me of late Hood. For almost five minutes, the main melody barely changes, but the way the instrumentation tiptoes around it is so satisfying you don’t want it to end. It shines brightest when it pushes beyond minimalist tendencies and blossoms into something almost resembling a rock record – the self-titled track, or “Nothing Holds Still,” which employs “Are You Shivering?”-like vocal chops.

I hope Piotr continues experimenting with this sound, what’s here is very promising.

☉ Natura Morta – Un Pensiero Intrusivo [Disques de la Spirale]
[» listen and support here]

There’s a word in the press material for this album by Colombia-born, Turin-based artist Maria Mallol Moya that actually fits: “alchemy.” Alchemical, if slightly cheesy coming from me, describes this record well. It oozes ritualistic fervor. Listen to the enchanting “Blood is Life,” where double bass, what sounds like marimba, and field recordings accompany a knot of voices singing (with variations) the title’s mantra – it’s like watching a fire. Nine minutes isn’t enough.

Speaking of field recordings, they surface throughout the album and lend it a disorienting quality – you can’t quite pin down what they are. Real nature sounds? Animals, insects, or synthesized textures? I guess we’ll never know, but it all adds to the intrigue. “Tu Canción” is closer to the world of mere mortals – industrial-inspired drums, reverb-drenched guitar, and an almost flamenco-like melody. Highly recommended for connoisseurs of magical realism.

☉ Arvin Dola – O Ghost [Dragon’s Eye Recordings & Espacio Vacío]
[» listen and support here]

A debut from Madrid-based composer and sound artist Arvin Dola – foggy, wind-swept cinematic compositions reflecting on loss and the absences it creates. The press release name-drops Derrida and Mark Fisher, which might suggest something overly heady, but Dola avoids that trap entirely. These pieces genuinely brim with feeling – grief, acceptance, and whatever lies between and beyond them. See the mournful melody on “Drift,” above which passes a fog of reverb-drenched vocal layers, or the pained saxophone part in “Thorn in My Flesh.” The whole album is full of these melodic flashes coming straight from the abyss.

What’s striking for a debut is the restraint and compositional discipline on display – qualities you don’t often hear in first records. Arvin’s experience in cinema and performing arts clearly shows in how he builds a narrative throughout the album. Mastered by Lawrence English, this wouldn’t feel out of place on Room40’s roster.

I’m always open to suggestions and recommendations, so feel free to reach out via email or Instagram, especially if you’re a label or an artist!