Self-taught bedroom producer Brolin hasn’t left the bedroom for quite some
time it seems. Flags
He rarely plays live, never gives interviews and if he has to show his face, he keeps it obscured behind a zorro-style mask.
However, all this mysterious (some would say tired) behaviour is not in vein.
He’s been busy compiling tracks for his mix tape ‘Flags’, a collection of
glitteringly beat-ridden, R&B-tinged electronica.
It’s packed with a steady stream of collaborators (Hannes Rasmus, FTSE, Dam Mantle, Casually Here, Raffertie) and is beautifully
fused together with the honey of his own silky Alexis Taylor-like vocal
gems. In the third track a cockney voice rises over dark synth like a
creepy geezer in a warehouse toilet
queue and asks “If you’re holding onto a rising balloon, you’re presented
with a difficult decision: Let go before it’s too late? Or hang on and keep
One can’t help but wonder if the shy producer is asking himself the same question.
But one thing’s for sure, ‘Flags’ marks a brilliant creation from somebody who has lived up to so much word-ofmouth hype.
“Our records fit that description in a very precise way,” Lorena explains.
“I also really like when Camus describes ‘the absurd’ as ‘this discomfort in the face of man’s own inhumanity, this incalculable tumble before the image of what
we are…’” It’s an especially ambiguous description, but one which seems to capture something intangible, some ineffable feeling, in Lorelle Meets
The Obsolete’s evocative, yet somehow aloof, music.
Hailing from Mexico, the group’s music is a heady fusion of expansive psych jams, kosmische repetition, and the ragged bubblegum of garage pop.
This is art that continually fragments and distorts known forms only to reconstruct them into
something that simultaneously conjures both nostalgia and surreal unease.
And the interaction between these two affects is particularly prominent
on ‘Chambers’, the first of the group’s albums to be distributed widely in
Europe thanks to London-based label Sonic Cathedral. Towards the end of
second track ‘The Myth of the Wise’, for example, the claustrophobic fug of
noise recedes to reveal Alberto’s drums,
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