Tag Archives: Moon Glyph


Featuring : 555 + design a wave

555 arcosanta

555’s Arcosanta offers us an acceptable modality of new age.

Instead of suffocating us with platitudes and exogenously generated personas towards which we should evolve abolishing ourselves in the process, it creates a Rorschach pool of soothing vibrations, windy melodies and synthetic conflagrations which hover in front of us like shards of crystal exploded in bullet-time.

We see our better, mellower, wiser selves reflected in those holographic sound-fragments. They exist inside us, and we use Arcosanta to bring them out.

555 – The Hierophant

You can pre-order Arcosanta from Moon Glyph.


In our mythological recombinator, Design A Wave’s Ke’s transforms Snake Plissken (or Solid Snake’s) stealthy traversal of devastated cities and gun-porn warehouses into a melancholy journey through the wastelands of his own solitude.

Those synthesisers which in John Carpenter hands convey the fear of the chase are here tinged with a M Mann-blue blur of sadness, the hero’s journey is a lonely one, and full of pathos.

The metronomic drum stops representing a countdown for explosion or execution, what lies ahead, to hint at what lies behind: A romantic collapse, a chance for human connection, that’s what’s being escaped, across city streets that could have been dreamt by Chromatics.

The legend earns a new dimension, and for that we are grateful.

Design a Wave – Ke

Design a Wave’s Deadsnake tape is well sold out, but you can get it in all its digital glory from Birdfriend.


Featuring : 555


We are watching the messy scrap that is the UK political campaign with a grimace underpinned by feelings that are hard to describe.

They are hard to describe because, at least in paper, they sound like the sort of destination we aspire to reach:

  • The dark epiphany that descends upon the Lovecraftian hero as he realises that humanity is but a defenceless baby babbling away in a cradle rocked by slimy monstrosities.
  • The unhinged violence lurking under the monotonous, allegedly rational grid of a Ballardian autobahn.
  • The moment when Roddy Piper dons his visor and gazes at the crowd around him, and detects those skeletal invaders getting on with their day, amidst an unsuspecting (or complicit) humanity.

Those are the scenarios of our favourite fiction, the ones we (botchedly attempt to) represent in this blog of yours.

They are also an exaggerated version of our feelings when we read the papers and we watch the news, when we see the army of grimacing clones levitating through empty industrial parks, surrounded by mannequin-like people blandishing placards with facile slogans, when we ponder that our society might be as paranoid and nasty as one might infer from the things this well-informed army campaigning for their vote is peddling.

Are “we” really like that? If that’s the case, then the awful truth that slowly dawns upon us is that we are in fact the Monster, a standard ending in the Lovecraftian opus. Burn us with fire, trap us with the Elder sign!

We don’t want it.

And when we are optimistic, we don’t believe it either. We think that we can do better. This is why we have started working on the manifesto for our own political movement, one that we will get kick-started as soon as we are done with Bloodborne, sadly not in time for this general election, but maybe for the next one.

Our vision is thus: while the political mainstream is appealing to fear of the outsider, nostalgia for the past and dread about the future, we shall call for the opposite. An embrace of the outside, policies to overcome the puny boundaries of this Island and expand in all directions: under the seas looking for Leviathan and Atlantis, into space, past the veil of reality itself, crashing through astral planes to liaise with the spirits of our past, the post-human scions of our future, and even the fair peoples of Europe.

Our ultimate goal is to leave this fair land to the pixies, turn our nation into a roving caravan of psychedelic gypsies marching down the axes of an invisible Tesseract, blasting from their speakers blissful jams such as the ones we are posting today.


Whenever we run into the countryside, it is looking for the confluence of feelings and the spiritual healing contained in Calidonia County’s The Ghosted Years.

It conveys with its subtly undulating harmonies the feeling of serene joy with which the walker beholds the fields expanding into the horizon, from a vantage point reached after a day of hard marching. The irregular, organic drip-drip of its rhythms could represent the flow of the streams, or the pace of her progress, as she accumulates the loveliest of all tirednesses in her bones, as if the hand of a benevolent God itself was nudging her towards an afternoon nap under the trees of its Garden.

Calidonia County – The Batteries in God’s Hands

Go and get this tape for Moon Glyph (again!).


555’s Swan River Yogue is based in a live performance at New Orlean’s Swan River Yoga.

Consistent with our vision of the future, and also with the sounds and sights of Calidonia County, the mood is of exploration, openness and possibility, but taking place in an abstract ocean over which stretches a Proteus-like archipelago.

Each of its islands represents an essential concept around which we orbit in a dream-like daze, grasping, if only for a moment which is enough, the oceanic undercurrents, migratory flows of colourful birds, and trade in gifts that binds these things together, and us with them, in a graph of astounding beauty.

555 – Twin Verses

Get the tape from Constellation Tatsu. Here is 555’s Patreon page.

(We nabbed the artwork above from Hello Games’ No Man’s Sky gallery).

Torn asunder

Featuring : Courtesy


Courtesy crawl from a swamp of smoke, they pierce our flesh with delightful hooks, they threaten to draw and quarter us like that lovely bit towards the end of Hellraiser.

(We can think of several beasts of Bloodborne with a similar demeanour, but that’s a different post.)

Perhaps the most obvious hook, and one that we obviously relish, is Liars: Courtesy share our favourite crypto-rockers taste for zones of penumbra and abrasion that we listeners traverse in a pointless quest for meaning.

We are fooled by a pale light in the ground and crouch for it, hoping to fetch a silver jewel inscribed with an interpretation of this territory, and instead are throttled by a skeleton arm protruding from the ground, wait, an army of them. There is something almost slapstick about this, but in an Evil Dead kind of way.

Explanations are therefore defied. The personal metamorphoses into the criminal and occult, in a process facilitated by a crooning that pulses, every so often, with blurry beauty, and sounds organic like rivers emptying through estuaries, corpses decomposing into the green, a slow bruise indeed.

The other feature that they share with Liars (especially in their previous, conceptual-album-oriented incarnation) is the playful combination of influences within an obscurely coherent framework – each of these influences is of course, another one of those hooks that tears us apart yet makes us swoon.

We’ll just mention three echoes we detect here: the primitive electronics of Silver Apples, especially in the bounce of today’s track ComEd; the discombobulated death rattle of the dirgey branch of the glue-shit-whatever-wave diaspora (people like Sic Alps etc.), and the vaudevillesque delight of a B-series horror soundtrack, with its shrill organs and eerie vibes.

It is not obvious what is that binds these things together, what this Slow Bruise thing is about. The action is not on camera, the horror is implied. We hear sirens but hear no shots. We slip on the blood but see no bodies. There could be paranormal forces at play but they dance out of sight whenever we turn around. Maybe the explanation is simpler. We spin in the darkness, and this is a dancing of sorts.

For a moment, we think that might be the point. And then they pull from their hooks and we are torn asunder.

Courtesy – ComEd

Get Slow Bruise from the brilliant Moon Glyph.

Experimental evidence of massive-scale epic state contagion through oneiric networks

Featuring : Leisure Birds


Epic states can be transferred to others via oneiric networks, leading people to experience epic states without their awareness. Oneiric contagion is well established in religious experiments, with people experiencing epic sensations and epiphanies through oneiric networks.

Data from an all-encompassing astral network, collected over a 5000 year period suggests that longer-lasting states (e.g., enlightenment, transcendence, damnation) can be acquired through networks [Jodorowsky A (1973) Alahzred (700)], although the results are controversial.

In an experiment with people who sleep, we tested whether oneiric contagion occurs in out-of-body experiences through increasing the amount of epic content in the dreamscape.

When epic expressions were augmented, people experienced further epic reactions and behaviors, including enchanted-artifact questing, summoning of familiars from the netherworld, and construction of glowing palaces made of singing diamonds. These results indicate that epic states in oneiric networks influence our own epic states, constituting experimental evidence for massive-scale contagion via oneiric networks.


The experiment manipulated the extent to which people (N =689,003) were exposed to epic expressions in their dreamscape. This tested whether exposure to epic emotions changed people’s epic states, in particular whether exposure to epic content led people to act in ways that were consistent with the exposure. When a person entered into REM state, each dream-situation had between a 10% and 90% chance of being boosted with epic motifs including glimpses of scenes described in the Sword & Sorcery literature, Skyrim, and Boris Vallejo and John Buscema, as well as psychedelic motorik drones selected by the council of Elders, chaired by George R.R. Martin, Michael Moorcock and invocations of Robert E. Howard, Fritz Leiber and Angela Carter (see exhibit).

Exhibit: Tetrahedron


Leisure Birds – Seven Spirals

The sounds of Leisure Birds’ Tetrahedron exist in a dimension rubbing and, every so often, intersecting with ours. When it does, the sensation as if you were the sun dancing through a battle-cat’s cradle of megalithic constructions, or, in Seven Spirals, a puny unit of humanity splattered over a beach, just as the god-hand arrives with the gift of thunder.

You can acquire Tetrahedron from Moon Glyph.

Wall of sound of the worlds

Featuring : 555 + Telequanta


(Image part of 50watt’s latest Space Teriyaki)

According to their cosmology, when the Creator (Toem) went to war against Entropy (Uhcf), she sweated profusely, and each of the pearls of her sweat dropped through nothingness.

Eventually, Toem vanquished Uhcf to the end of the road of each thing, and, before passing, instituted the rules for the operation and development of every thing and their collective system henceforth.

Each of the pearls of Toem’s sweat became the seed of a world, which flourished or froze or waited or wilted, and its skies, its mountains, its storms and its shadows sang a history going back to Toem’s battle with Uhcf.

The mission of the Clan of the Critics (El-Madi) is to travel the galaxies listening closely, finding for each of the worlds its song, so that the full history of Toem’s sacrifice might be learned by all.


The song of world 555 is made of the clicks, claps and pops of the phosphorescent exoskeleton of an arthropod species as it toils diligently under the permanent aurora, building graceful hive-palaces or glyphs representing the words of the lyrics of 555’s song.

Songs also made of the rumble of these hive-bergs as they slide through the world’s dense oceans, and of the cawing of the pelican-like birds whose migratory patterns that their tectonic odyssey dictates.

The El Madi have filed 555’s song under the genres: “Wholeness Juke”, “Innis mode complexity trip”, G-fractal surfing”. 

555 – Som Hassel

Lovejoy Comet is included in 555’s Nine Gates Tape recently released by Moon Glyph.\


The Hidden Characters in Telequanta’s Metaverse aren’t so much the song that a planet sings, but the vibration emanating from a neon singularity that has absorbed the essential feeling of a zillion jams generated in tropical waterfronts all across the universe.

The simmer of possibility where the sea and the sky meet, the criminal flair of all harbours, the grace of the gradient, the hedonistic freedom of the tourist trap, all of these emotions shimmy in the user-friendly electro-beat, the blurry vocals and those drops blinding like paparazzi flashes, as the existential hero exits the fashion party, jumps in his sports car and, full of self-conscious emotion, accelerates towards that place where all the lines converge.

The El Madi have filed this under a genre best described by the hologram of a silhouette strutting with sexual confidence, a cheesy hint of fragility, something else, perhaps regret?

Telequanta – Hidden Characters

You can get Telequanta’s Metaverse from Datagarden.

Conan the Vain

Featuring : Lord Dog Bird


In a world where Conan the Barbarian was a thinly veiled remake of the Seventh Seal, producer Dino De Laurentiis has convinced Max von Sydow to prepare for his reworking of the role with a cocktail of steroids and codeine.  While the titan of Swedish cinema bench presses dragons, De Laurentiis approaches Brian Eno to provide the score.  Eno quickly turns in a work of haunting beauty; another drowned world of death and calm, hollow victories and self-awareness.

A little know Austrain actor is drafted in to play the pacifist spirit guide.  Spending most of the movie mute his eyes effortlessly mirror the dull blankness of the slaughter all around him.  It is a masterful performance.

Within the folds of Eno’s haunting soundtrack we find this gem, taken from a moment of eerie calm at the end of the movie.  Our Hero — in a moment of self awareness — has conquered the beast and found his life devoid of meaning.  A cold dawn breaks, tinted with the blood of his enemies and tourtured by the lamentations of their women.

During this, a voice is heard…

Lord Dog Bird – Vanity and Shame

Lord Dog Bird’s universe is one of almost spiritual sincerity and a earthy sense of a vast and uncanny world that Robert E Howard’s lunking hero would have recognised, if not understood.  It’s a world of stadium sized emotion spilling over a singularly lonely pump organ.

Lord Dog Bird’s The Trinity Knot is out now on Moon Glyph.  Get it right here.

The Glory of Your Cosmic Irrelevance

Featuring : Million Brazilians


When, in 1972, the Cthulhu cult made an infomercial* to promote their progressive forest based invocation ceremonies they reached out across time to the licensing department at Moon Glyph. Once the envelope — made up of folds so geometrically impossible that three postmen went insane in the process of delivering it — arrived, it was swiftly ripped open and tossed on a fire lest it contaminate the office. Inside  — written in a grey/purple hue — was a licensing deal based entirely around the exchange of small wooden carvings. Unfortunately, due to the laissez faire approach to time keeping by the immortal cult,  Moon Glyph had to wait several years for Million Brazilians to actually record the music in question but when they did, everyone agreed it was very fitting.

Namelessly sad, with a fine accompaniment of apocalyptic guitar wailing in the background. Murky percussion under a haunting, indistinct chant that wearily reaches out over aeons. Beautiful and scarred in a way that only those who have glimpsed the face of the old gods can know.

Million Brazilians – Untitled II

This is taken from Million Brazilians’ album Wet Dry Jungala which is a co-release between Moon Glyph and Psychic Sounds Research.  You can get it here right now.

*the snappily titled: The Glory of Your Cosmic Irrelevance in the Face of the Old Ones: Climate Change, Nuclear Armageddon and you.