Should Miles "Tails" Prower (Mirror Zone) from Sonic the Comic join the tumblr found family?
Yeah!
Nope!
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seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia
seen from France

seen from Malaysia

seen from Finland
seen from Maldives
seen from Maldives
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia

seen from Maldives

seen from United States
seen from Maldives

seen from Maldives
seen from United Kingdom

seen from Singapore
seen from China
Should Miles "Tails" Prower (Mirror Zone) from Sonic the Comic join the tumblr found family?
Yeah!
Nope!
Mirror Zones. Multiple Angles.
Everyone has their own unique mirror zone. What's yours?
The Dutch producer conjures a delightfully disorienting cocktail of light-footed, rapid-fire techno that draws on the hidden legacy of exper
Reviews 293: Memphis
Tribal trance and prog house mystic Memphis, otherwise known as Paul H. Williams, has experienced a well deserved reappraisal over the last couple of years and 2018 in particular saw several labels either reissuing old classics or unearthing never before heard treasures. Mr. Ho and Luca Lozano’s Klasse Wrecks pressed up a new batch of the first Memphis 12” Around the World / Lost Sands, which showcased Williams’ flare for proto-prog bombers and ethereal house slammers, and Spekki Webu’s esoterically inclined Mirror Zone took on Beneath a Different Sun, an EP of shamanic trance intensity, jacking tribal rhythmics, mutli-cultural drum exotics, and interplanetary ethno-psychedelics. As for newly issued archival work, first came Animals on Psychedelics, which pulled the deliciously breakbeat heavy and DnB kissed Sunken Garden EP from Williams’ DAT tapes and then included a track from the artist on their Mazatec compilation EP. And now in 2019, Spekki Webu and Mirror Zone have assembled another incredible collection from the Memphis archives called Ukigumo (Floating Clouds).
The reunification of Mirror Zone and Memphis can be seen as a closing of the sacred circle, as a completion of some mysterious ritual, and as a return to the source of it all. But Ukigumo (Floating Clouds) also marks a significant moment of spiritual and sonic expansion for both artist and label, with the title track in particular coming as a complete revelation due to its morphing synthetic soundbaths, zoned out rhythmic minimalism, and dreamscape flute explorations…a sort of spellbinding coalescence of temple woodwind ritualism and ambient techno dream dancing. On the flip, “Child of the 70’s” takes that familiar Memphis beat science, all ethnological hand drumming and stomping prog house energy, and spreads it out into a dreamscape rave epic, with synthesizers evoking LSD ocean waves, dolphins communicating via neon tracers, and jazz snares adding an irresistible touch of rainforest bebop energy. Finally, in closing track “Acid Brook,” Memphis morphs and mutates subsonic acid lines into gurgling alien insanity…all while spectral metals are sequenced above club kicks and tapped rides.
Memphis - Ukigumo (Floating Clouds) (Mirror Zone, 2019) “Ukigumo (Floating Clouds)” begins on bending atmospheres of narcotized synthesis, with waveforms buzzing as a flute executes some exotic dreamdance overhead. It’s a similar vibe to modern mystical explorer’s such as Bitchin Bajas, John Also Bennett, and Leo James, yet these connection are made all the more magical with the knowledge that Williams crafted this track decades ago. Eventually, a kinetic kick beat enters while a snare smacks and crystalline rimshots work in and out of echo layers…the mutating synth patterns and zoned out rhythmics forming a perfect backdrop for the spellbinding aerophone ragas. The flute drifts according to its own mysterious logic and is perhaps meant to evoke the aimless wanderings of Yukiko Koda, the heroine of the film and novel from which the track takes its name. Hypnotizing curlicues move into breathy drones, with the playing sometimes accented by cosmic arpeggiations, all delay soaked and aglow in neon shadow. Low bitrate electro-cymbals work against the ambient rhythm minimalism while sequenced rimshots continue morphing and modulating, sometimes sounding like an idiophone constructed from gemstones. There’s a moment where the drums drop away and we are transported back into a world of futuristic temple ritualism, with the flute spiraling ever further out of control, resulting in overblown screams and free jazz ascents into solar realms. Slowly, the rhythms build back up, with mechanized ethno-beats, sub-bass currents, and kick drums locking into a shamanic robo-stomp beneath tapped textures of glass. Sequential electronics glow and flow, liquid energies vibrate then fade away, and all the while, the increasingly ecstatic woodwind performance pushes everything towards spiritual transcendence.
Resonant kicks gallop beneath rimshots and tightly wound hand percussion in “Child of the 70’s”, with everything echoing into the void. A mutant bassline slides up and down while hi-hats work through hypnagogic stutter patterns and triple time rolls. Oceanic synth waves wash over the mix, trailed by crystallized starshine, and the cymbals sometimes pull away, leaving delirium currents to wash over the spirit. Elsewhere, psychoactive tracers diffuse through the mix…these aquamarine rave melodies that sound as if whales and dolphins are singing strange songs across star ocean expanses. There’s a freaked out percussion passage wherein polyrhythms rocket above a fuzzed out bassline groove as Williams begins dropping bebop snare patterns, which give the track a pronounced future jazz energy. Insectoid rattles tickle the mind and deep sea synth hazes resume bathing the mix in a calming glow, with aqueous chill-out electronics tracing polychrome light spirals…the whole thing predicting the candy-colored rave experiments of Lone. The beats drop away at some point, leaving behind slipping, sliding, and mutating basslines and sparse electronic accents until the kick returns to stomp through layers of grime. Ethnological drum cascades start ricocheting across the spectrum, with Williams morphing hand percussions from various world cultures into a tapestry of galactic liquid, and eventually, we find ourselves again lost in a world of tribal rave and acid jazz hypnosis, with vibed out snares smashing beneath ecstasy wavefronts and seascape hallucinations…like rainbow cosmic energy meeting jungle bebop perfection, or some cyborg approximation of jazz drumming locked into a futuristic prog stomp while clouds of LSD energy swirl into an all consuming vortex.
“Acid Brook” throws the body straight into a gonzo acid stomper, with kick drums jacking at high speed, squelching basslines firing down low, and viscous 303 energies panning across the spectrum…these delay soaked waves of tribal acid intensity that push the mind towards psychosonic delirium. Metallic sequences dance in counterpoint, the tones spectral and constantly shimmering, and it all works itself into peak-time club militance…the kind of track that’s perfect for the deep and dark phases of the night, when everyone has given over to primal dance ritualism. As the kick drums drop out, everything that remains filters and flanges, with acid synthesis transmuting into extra-terrestrial frog songs and gurgling alien madness while cymbals tick nervously in the back ground. As the kick smashes back in, we are thrust forward on crushing waves of acid momentum, with everything washing out above urgently tapped rides. Sometimes, even these ride cymbals pull away, leaving nothing but crushing bass drum energies, far out acid insanities, and metalloid sequences filtering out of control…resulting in flashy displays of silvery synthetic sorcery that ascend higher and higher before fading into mist. It’s a world of blasting kicks, golden cymbal rhythms, and tubular acid bass, with virtual bird calls fluttering through the sky…like some cyborg loon flying through a techno fever dream. The 303 lines continue sounding like monstrous beings from dimensions of shadow as Williams wrings sounds from his synths that defy all logic. And throughout the track, there are no moments of radiance or any ethereal breakdowns, rather, everything throbs and pounds, with electronics continually contorting into sonic madness over druggy trance beat minimalism.
(images from my personal copy)