The fifth release on Objekts Kapsela imprint is (re)weave, an EP of crystalline club tracks from Detroit-born, London-based producer Tristan Arp. (re)weave was written during a prolonged period of flux for the artist. When I started making this record, my life and the world felt like a maze, he recounts. As he routed and re-routed through past and future homes Mexico to New York to Detroit to Mexico and finally to London his output bore the marks of this repeated uprooting. I was thinking about making music that reflected these twists and turns, and the knotty pathways through them. I was also re-reading Borges around this time, which must have influenced my interest in labyrinths. Accordingly, the EP is a mycelial puzzle, a tangle of spidery, undulating ostinatos and earthy percussion, stitched through with syncopated kicks. Employing the sounds of multitudinous critters and kin whales, insects, thunder, water, forests the arrangements sum to a sentient mesh of organic matter, the compositions living and breathing like earthly beings. Kaleidoscopic tendrils explore in every direction but are always underpinned by a driving, percussive backbone. Its not easily classifiable: its bass-driven, but to simply call it bass music would sell it short. In keeping with the winding geographical paths traced over the EPs creation, (re)weave saw Tristan Arp revisiting and reinterpreting unfinished sessions and incorporating them into newer ideas. Rhythms and sounds have been transplanted and self-recycled from previous projects and woven into the fabric of the record. In this way, (re)weave also describes a looping back over time, a recalibration of the self from past to present through interlocking rhythms, channeling and communing with versions of oneself from times gone by. The closing track, Wish Server, slows the EP to walking pace and hints at tentatively emerging from the deepest jungle into a delicate, innocent light. Tristan Arp imagines it as a dialog with a baby-self. Some of my earliest memories are of sitting at my mothers loom, he offers. The sequence of these tracks traces these feelings and follows the thread back to the primordial soup through mazes to a feeling of levitation.

"Mutable Field" is the second single from "re(weave)" by Tristan Arp. -- The fifth release on Objekts Kapsela imprint is re(weave), an EP of crystalline club tracks from Detroit-born, London-based producer Tristan Arp. re(weave) was written during a prolonged period of flux for the artist. When I started making this record, my life and the world felt like a maze, he recounts. As he routed and re-routed through past and future homes Mexico to New York to Detroit to Mexico and finally to London his output bore the marks of this repeated uprooting. I was thinking about making music that reflected these twists and turns, and the knotty pathways through them. I was also re-reading Borges around this time, which must have influenced my interest in labyrinths. Accordingly, the EP is a mycelial puzzle. Its not easily classifiable: its bass-driven, but calling it bass music would underplay its scope. The first three tracks, punctuated through by syncopated kicks, are a fast-paced tangle of spidery, undulating ostinatos and organic percussion. Employing the sounds of multitudinous critters & kin whales, insects, thunder, water, forests the arrangements sum to a sentient mesh of organic matter, the compositions living and breathing like earthly beings. Kaleidoscopic tendrils explore in every direction but are always underpinned by a driving, percussive backbone. In keeping with the winding geographical paths traced over the EPs creation, re(weave) in parallel saw Tristan Arp revisiting and reinterpreting unfinished sessions and incorporating them into newer ideas. Rhythms and sounds have been transplanted and self-recycled from previous projects and stitched into the fabric of the record. In this way re(weave) also describes a looping back over time from the past into the present, a recalibration of the self through interlocking rhythms, channeling and communing with versions of oneself from times gone by. The closing track, Wish Server, slows the EP to walking pace and hints at tentatively emerging from the deepest jungle into a delicate, innocent light. Tristan Arp imagines it as a dialog with a baby-self. Some of my earliest memories are of sitting at my mothers loom, he offers. The sequence of these tracks traces these feelings and follows the thread back to the primordial soup through mazes to a feeling of levitation.

sitting in the terminal at Barcelona airport, health safety warnings echo through empty architecture. feeling slow, and fast, out of sync with rituals and routines. structure and rhythm disintegrate into micro gestures appearing in random order, a daily psychedelia... amid all of the chaos and distraction in the last few years, its only through letting go that Ive found solid ground to stand on. These are some of the experiences and reflections that gave shape to Slipstream, a hallucinatory mini-album by the artist PVAS and the fourth release on Objekts label, Kapsela. Slipstream is an aural document of PVASs interior life, conceived not as a grab-bag of DJ-friendly tracks (although its clearly inspired by the club) but as a single, delicately crafted artistic statement. The entire record is shrouded in a flickering haze, worn through by smudged breakbeats and wiry drum machines. Wetland, with its swampy percussion and crystalline arps, echoes T++ and Kraftwerk. The radiant incandescence of Gathering Drift recalls GAS or Monolakes Hong Kong. Sampled breakbeats dip and swerve asymmetrically through Boba and Terminal. Across the record, textures and voices are reshaped by PVASs homemade algo-software, UMT, which, in PVAS own words, reconstructs one audio file by sampling another, resulting in output that merges their aesthetic qualities, creating rhythm with non-rhythmic sound files and abusing the stereo field. But the most striking union of technology and poetic self-exploration comes at the end of the record, in the title track, from words murmured through a classic vocoder: when i stop framing myself as a boundaried stone immovable, and powerful, and heavy when i stop figuring my deepest space as my own something which i am solely responsible i surrender, i surrender PVAS is Jordan Juras, a Berlin-based artist who grew up outside of Windsor, Ontario. He has released solo EPs on Isla and xpq?, and is half the duo NUG (3XL, West Mineral Ltd.). In addition to developing music software professionally, he has used his UMT software on records by Lyra Pramuk and Dylan Kerr. Slipstream was recorded from 2022 to 2025.

Kapsela Bass / Club