Conceptual Framework:
The album operates as a sonic autopsy of capitalism’s colonization of time, framed through glitch-laden industrial rhythms and algorithmic decay. Its soundscapes are built from recursive matrices—transformational equations that warp perception (e.g., t = [1 bxy; cxy 1] stretches auditory axes into dissonant geometries). These mathematical grids mirror the “branded loops” of late capitalism, where time is compressed, expanded, or bent into marketable nostalgia. Field recordings of derelict factories collide with anti symmetric synth bends (cos(c|x|), sin(c|x|)), evoking machinery dreaming of its own obsolescence.
Lyrical/Thematic Core:
The work doubles as a digital psychogeography of dissent. Subliminal voices—sampled from asylum intercoms, garbled protest chants, and corporate training modules—dissolve into static, critiquing how resistance is atomized by algorithms. The track “never work” weaponizes pleasure: sub-bass throbs mimic the numbness of surveillance capitalism, while fractured poetry deconstructs the self as data slurry.
Ideological Manifesto (Embedded in Noise):
A buried manifesto rails against “fascism, integrism, capitalism” via distorted vocoder. The text argues that control evolves through the same technologies it resists—war-born systems of simultaneity that keep society in permanent mobilization. This paradox is sonified in “Vacuum Brush at 220 km/h”, where turbine groans accelerate into arrhythmia, a metaphor for unsustainable extraction.
Structural Anarchy:
The album’s second act devolves into anti-symmetric chaos—tape loops of fragmented lullabies spiral into recursive error messages. A spoken-word interlude (“What’s the point of noise-to-signal ratio when it’s signally enough déjà?”) collides with glitched matrices, questioning the utility of communication itself.
Closing Coda:
The finale, “Liberate Lif++”, applies the equation t = [1 0; 0 dx²]—a sonic expansion proportional to x²—as drones swell into infrastructural collapse. The final whisper: “Eulogies are warnings.”
Artists:
Genre: Experimental Industrial Ambient |
Format: Sonic Architecture / Fractured Elegy
TERROr.chic (=agent zekret – ordr a):
Architect of transformational noise grids.
Valeria Ferriera (=agent zekret – ordr b):
Curator of ideological static and recursive dissent.
Label: Umweltgerechte Entsorgung Musik
Runtime: 38:07 |
Release Format: Obsolete Media (Corrupted ZIP files, 8-track cassette loops)
ALBUM interview:
Interviewer: Your work frames time as both a “commodity” and a “branded loop.” How does Pseudocyclical Time critique the intersection of capitalism and temporal alienation?
TERROr.chic: The album weaponizes sound to mirror how late capitalism fractures and repurposes time. Rhythms mimic industrial systems to evoke a world where even seconds are extracted for profit. When beats decay or field recordings warp, it’s a sonic metaphor: time isn’t linear here, but aderelict factory, stripped and resold as aesthetic debris. The “branded loop” is dissent itself, sanitized into consumable nostalgia.
Interviewer: You describe machinery “dreaming of its own collapse.” Is this an optimistic metaphor?
TERROr.chic: Optimism implies a future. This is elegy. The groans of analog synths, the flickering grids—they’re autopsy reports. Machinery collapses not to liberate, but to expose how control evolves. When the album’s asylum intercoms garble commands, it’s a reminder: the system thrives by convincing us its erosion is our rebellion.
Interviewer: How does “digital psychogeography” reshape resistance in your work?
TERROr.chic: Traditional psychogeography mapped urban alienation. Digital psychogeography traces how algorithms atomize desire. Subliminal sub-bass, glitching static—these are the “zones” where our clicks and swipes are ritualized. The album’s labyrinth isn’t physical; it’s the psyche looped into platforms, where dissent becomes a playlist.
Interviewer: Why frame pleasure as “cold erotic pulse”?
TERROr.chic: Pleasure under the spectacle is compliance. The album’s fetishistic pulses—the metallic breaths, corrupted transmissions—are engineered to seduce. Coldness is key: it’s the numbness of scrolling, the “pleasure” of being surveilled, the eroticism of a self-dissolving into data.
Interviewer: Final question: Is Pseudocyclical Time a warning or a eulogy?
TERROr.chic: Eulogies are warnings. When machinery’s decay outpaces our ability to imagine outside it, all that’s left is to play the dirge—and hope someone hears the code in the static.
t h a n k y o u f o r y o u r s u p p o r t