I can not for the life of me remember how I stumbled upon Kuedo’s Severant. That now-lost memory of this moment is somehow imbued in listening: To call it nostalgic would be only partially correct, it is not a longing for a really-existing past, but a longing for a present future that could hold the past’s promise, lost in its original imagining.

Any future is implicated in the past and present, either through denial, affirmation or radical critique. Soundtracks of the darker side of science fiction films are soundtracks of the darker side of imagination, nostalgically and constantly reflecting on its shortcomings: Blade Runner, Akira, Ghost in the Shell, Serial Experiments Lain, Minority Report, all showcase a desperate longing for the new in spite of the heavy burden of the known. It’s hard to single out a favourite, but let’s take Salt Lake Cuts, the longest track on the album Severant.

A synthsound drops in pitch and takes us down with it, from the quotidian into the pondering beat. Rhythmically surefooted in a warm, rounded and thick basskick and a slightly lagging snareclap, which in turn moves the music laboriously forward and grounds the descending bassline and the wavering bell-like sounds. Through a mild boldening of texture, we arrive at a snappy analogue line, skirting, darting and disappearing, giving way to those gestures which most strongly remembers the Vangelis(tic) 80s: reedy, thin and heady synthlines craning upwards. The music halts, unexpectedly, promises and questions left hanging, what breaks the near silence?

A recall of the start, however, more regular — the bells are differently inflected, metallicized, but remain over the same bassline, through a filter darkly. All let’s us know that it isn’t over. Together they obscured the beat, and the next moment arrives too soon, or too late. The driving bass propel the beat assisted by the short hihats and alternating light splashes. The snare enters slowly with a delay on a weaker beat. The pitchdrop from the start is inverted, now we rise to the beat, renewed. The rising synthline intensifies, takes center stage and holds its note for what seems like forever, craning again and again. Climactically spent, another attempt is made, yet the music swerves downward into silence.

other reviews of the album, here: ResidentAdvisor.net, pitchfork.com, theQuietus, BBC music. Buy his album if you can. I am looking forward to hearing him in concert late january, Berlin.