Discordless – Nelocuit

3.15.19 by Ryan Masteller

I’ve had it up to here with all these Aphex Twin logos showing up on blimps and Starbucks takeaway cups and NASCAR hoods – why can’t that guy market his comeback albums like a normal person? Take Discordless, aka Marius Costache, for example – he hadn’t released anything under that name in nine years, and now all of a sudden he’s back on Bulgarian label Amek Collective with a new tape of jittery techno, tense ambient, and noisy, atom-smashed electro with nary a peep from a “marketing team” getting “the brand” “back out there”? I don’t know about you, but I’ll take that approach from my “underground” producers any day. Like Linus said about the Great Pumpkin, and which we can reference here without fear of lawsuit, “It’s all about sincerity, punk ass.”

Discordless is all about sincerity on “Nelocuit,” which is Romanian for “uninhabited” (Costache is Romanian, which makes sense if you’re wondering why he’s using Romanian words). If we’re talking “uninhabited” wastes or woodlands or tundras or Mike Haley’s conscience, then “Nelocuit” is your new soundtrack, its dense blasts of digital shrapnel whipping like harsh winter winds. There’s nothing between you and “Nelocuit,” your soul is laid bare in front of it, and it penetrates your mind to scour it of pretense. It is the electronic tape equivalent of Linus’s dream pumpkin patch. The Great Pumpkin … er, the Great Consumer will surely rise out of this humble tangle of magnetic tape and purchase a copy with great reverence.

Who am I kidding – this mess of tangled patch-cord magic and digital programming is simply a dang treat to listen to. It’s a post-hypnotism warp zone of corroded delight that mesmerizes as it pummels. Whether it resembles an ice sheet as thick as a house or a hailstorm at 60mph, “Nelocuit” maxes out any comparisons of technology to natural phenomena, blurring them as they hit critical mass (*wink*) and velocity.

Don’t miss it.

Although released a mere three months ago, “Nelocuit” is sold out from the label, so start scouring Discogs you slathering mongrels. There’s actually one for sale!