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Fire Zone (180g)

Fire Zone (180g)
Label: Ekster
Nr kat.: EKS017
Format: LP+MP3
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Koszt od 16,99 zł
89.90 / 1szt.
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  • PLAY ALL
  • 01 Minettes AC UNIT.mp3
  • 02 Sipit.mp3
  • 03 Enter My Block.mp3
  • 04 711 Beat.mp3
  • 05 Transact.mp3
  • 06 Start Kick.mp3
  • 07 Sepulveda Concrete.mp3
  • 08 Westfield Topanga.mp3
  • 09 Oops.mp3
  • 10 Fixin.mp3
  • 11 Ocho.mp3
  • 12 Bridge Over Lazyboy.mp3

 

Presenting “Fire Zone”. Album written, produced & mixed by Zane Reynolds and pressed on 180g viny, including poster 57x57cm artwork by the artist. Mastered & cut by Helmut Erler at Dubplates & Mastering.

The music of Zane Reynolds AKA SFV Acid celebrates lysergic life in small town America. His are urban hallucinations. Conceived in “business parks, strip malls”, in “blue collar luxury”. On a diet of “diner burgers”. From the self-released, hand-painted cassettes of his high school years, he has moved to work commissioned by locals 100% Silk, Japan`s Big Love, and Dutch imprint, BAKK. His latest long-player, Fire Zone, will be issued by Belgian label, Ekster.

The album continues to reference Zane’s Los Angeles home, and in this case the devastation that rages there every Summer. The concept however, reaching away from the horror and flames, to offer an escape.

There are moments, interludes, that hint at, and hide, something darker. Where drone twists from tape hiss. Bends. Out of shape. Where chords distort. Their degraded edges disintegrating. Charred perhaps? But Ai welcomes you to “San Fernando Valley”, and a low-riding 808 booms. Less L.A. More Overtown, or Liberty City. Its racing booty bass calmed by wind chimes. The rapid Electro-Funk clip countered by modal synths. Its sunny disposition reflecting the SFV climate.

Playful rhymes, fragmented dialogue, and answer phone messages, rub up against Rave sirens. Roland`s silver box squeezes out a Sci-Fi Jazz. Through ping-ponging percussion. Through a drum and bass battery. Punched by keys that wanna be horns. Rewinds that create a bin-blowing vacuum. Shore-line samples washing the more head-nodding tempos. Euphoria rising while a perfect beat pops and locks. (text: Robert Harris)

 

 

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