A sky of indigo above you, a city of crystal below you. You are suspended, body incapacitated, high above a translucent labyrinth of eery corridors, humble dwellings, and lofty towers. You slowly descend, floating to the ground below, and as your big toes connect with the polished surface, a bright, circular ripple expels from your body and extends in all directions like the Big Bang. A utopia or dystopia, but you aren’t sure which. A tone grows in volume . . .
Zone out. The Republic is the newest full-length from producer/multi-instrumentalist Sam Prekop, who creates wonderful sounds with his band The Sea And The Cake, as well. The name of this record’s game is modular synthesis, and it’s a game that this artist plays incredibly well. If the words ‘ambient,’ ‘drone,’ or ‘retrofuturism’ intrigue you in any capacity, I urge you to stick around and discover what this enthralling album contains.
Prekop aims to explore the emotional capabilities of a synthesized tone, and how subtle minimalism can amplify the organic elements in electronic music. In a way these songs could be described as timeless, because even though they clearly exemplify signature aspects of futurism, they also sound like they could be a collection of highlights from the technologically-primitive 70s or 80s. It’s ethereal, reflective, and ingenious.
Fans of Nils Frahm, Oneohtrix Point Never, and Tim Hecker will have a first class seat on the adoration train for this pensive composer. The difference between him and them though, is that his music never forces the listener to feel any one specific thing; the consumer is presented with a multitude of sonic landscapes on which to paint their own thoughts. If you’re seeking minimal, meditative electronic music, this album is for you.
– stasi (@stasisphere)