Goldblum - s/t

The second album by Marijn Verbiesen (Red Brut) and Michiel Klein's (Lewsberg) Goldblum project was a late 2021 highlight and one due far more attention that it was afforded. Since its release, i've been hopeful of a vinyl run of their first tape, initially issued back in 2020 on Klein's Het Generiek imprint, and it's fellow Lewsberg member Arie van Vliet who's finally done the honourable thing via Soft Office. Such entanglement is evidence of a busy old scene in Rotterdam, though Goldblum make a sound that's as reflective of its past as much as it is its present moment. Plugging into the rich tradition of European DIY electronics with a ghostly edge, the pair combine a series of collaged tape loops, disconcerting samples, atmospheric keyboards and Verbiesen's ominous vocals that flit between Dutch and English into a murky fog. It's as perverse as it is melancholic, as close to a rendezvous down a red lit midnight street as it is a lonesome wander through a misty park. There's a first thought best thought sense to much of this, phatic utterances and unconscious instincts taking precedence over craft and deliberation. It's all the better for it, the spontaneous, even improvised feel conjuring an unpredictable quality that's time-dilating and alien in equal measure. Sucker for this kind of thing and Goldblum do it as well as anyone else right now.