#54 Feat. New Releases in Bass / Club

xins WASTED lands on Appendix.files with nine pieces that drag the club through a compost heap of trash(ed) recordings, corroded basslines and scraps of rave memory, forming a porous archive of dance musics residues transfigured. Composed of field recordings of waste, the album doesnt recycle so much as ferment, mulching the detritus of dance culture into something gurgling, volatile, and eerily alive. Alongside the music WASTED expands into print and website: a zine and wasted.reluctant.promo hold xins texts hospicing dance music and unsustainability, extending the artists reflections on exhaustion, precarity and the cultural afterlife. Theres a sonic depth and mood here that sits somewhere between Raimes shadowed tension, Carriers electro-acoustic sleight and the spacious dub mutations of T++, while its textural apparitions feel as though theyve been dubbed over a battered Jon Hassell cassette the otherworldly nostalgia burned away, replaced with a hard-won momentum, like flooring it toward the next gas station before Immortan Joes war party closes in. WASTED reads as dance music after the fire: glamour gone, structures wrecked, a stubborn pulse still smouldering underneath. opening drifts in on fizzing debris and low-end churn, like a bin bag caught on a breeze. trash dub assembles a crooked percussion grid; compost believes in life after death hovers between hymn and hiss before plunging into the jagged kicks of wasted anew. Mid-record, enough to exhaust and indoors in time stretch the remnants thin, teasing collapse. The last sweep plastic legacy, no permanence, for now and apocalypse era (i dreamt i glimpsed eternity) folds exhaustion and faint euphoria into a single long exhale. Mastered by Ike Zwanikken, artwork and design by Amos Turner, WASTED is Appendix.files at its most thematically aligned: a porous document of cultural leftovers, decomposed into new sonic growths. For media inquiries, review requests, or interviews, please contact: info@appendixfiles.com

XIN