Ssss, released back in March, is a record by VCMG (otherwise known as Vince Clarke of Erasure and Martin Gore of Depeche Mode). Alongside the ten tracks on the record (voted # 2 in The Quietus’ recent Albums of the Year So Far) are three wonderful EPs (Spock, Single Blip and the forthcoming Aftermaths). They, along with Mute, have employed some interesting artists to mix these including: Alva Noto, LFO (Mark Bell who produced DP’s Exciter record), Byetone and Mathew Jonson. Watch for Aftermaths to drop on 8/20.
CELER, originally a duo, is now the solo experimental sound project of Will Long, an American living in Japan and developing works that are an earful of quietude. With over fifty recordings released in only the past seven years this project is one of the most prolific around, especially for a young artist who has worked with numerous international labels. I had the opportunity to catch up with him at the crest of releasing nearly a dozen new projects this year alone.
TJ Norris: The title Lightness and Irresponsibility is intriguing in contrast to the quiet content on the record. Can you say some about the title, particularly the irresponsibility portion?
Will Long/Celer: The title is actual a lyric from a Fred Astaire song, I think. I picked it because it sounded interesting, and a little bit mismatched. It’s usually two things I’d never consider to be together. While it is the title, it doesn’t really have any significance to the way the music sounds, or the composition. Though, I think adopting a title for music in the end gives the music an entirely different definition than it had before. It adopts a new description, whether it’s relevant or not. I’ve had people comment on the album ‘Tightrope’ saying they don’t particularly like the album because it doesn’t remind them of a tight rope. Even if the title is vague, and even randomly picked, there’s still a reason, and identification.
TJN: Celer is the project duo (“the singular we”) by yourself and your dear departed Danielle Baquet (aka Chubby Wolf). In the short four years you worked together (2005-09) you created quite a prolific body of work. Are these what you may call, and pardon me for asking, posthumous works, or are you taking the project solo? If so, how is the creative process different?
WL: After she passed away in 2009, I didn’t really want to make music. I spent the 6 months after just releasing the music we had made. Though there was still a lot of unreleased music left after that (and there still is some now), I slowly began to want to make music again. I couldn’t stop being creative, but it took some time to come back after 2009. I moved away from California, and spent another 6 months at my home, where I continued to release the music, and was mastering all the Chubby Wolf works. I stayed creative, but worked mainly on photography when I wasn’t mastering or releasing, which took up most of the time I had. I’m not really sure when I started making things again, but it started to happen, and I decided it was the best thing to do. I tried breaking away from the Celer name at first, but it was difficult. Labels didn’t want to release things under my own name, but as Celer shows wanted to book me, the name was stronger, and it had more interest, or more people were aware of it. When I finally decided to continue on using the name, I realized that there wasn’t any way to change what happened in the past, but I had been one of the creators at the beginning with Danielle, and continuing it on leaves some part of that intact. Separating entirely from it seemed selfish, and trying to act like things that happened hadn’t happened.
Now I’m not sure how the creative process is so different. When we worked on music before, many times it wasn’t together, but at different times of the day. Now it’s the same for me, I’m just doing it all myself. Now I’m in more creative control, as before she titled most of the albums and did the photography for the most part as well, so I have to try to be more inventive and do everything myself. It’s fine though, as it’s a challenge, and I’m lucky to have come along as well as I have so far. I’m happy with the present, and content with the past.
TJN: In the past several months you have released A Couple of Swells (free @ Bandcamp!) in three parts online. Altogether its nearly four hours of cooly atmospheric drone that ripples and hides. In the development of such slow sound I could imagine these works easily paired with the art of butoh. Are you familiar with this form of movement and have you ever worked with performing artists in a live situation?
WL: I’ve played alongside dancers at exhibitions before, but it was usually just an accompaniment to the show and not about the work specifically. I think it could work really well for a performance though, and I hope an opportunity comes up in the future. The A Couple of Swells series works as a multi-room installation, as well.
TJN: I’d certainly like to immerse myself into that situation.
Recently you collaborated with Machinefabriek on something of a travelogue called Greetings From…, with pictures and postcards from various destinations. What is the significance of place in your work? Secondly, where are you physically located..and how might that effect your work?
WL: We had a 7-date tour of the Netherlands and Belgium together, and recorded all the shows. I took photos during the tour, so after we thought it would be nice to compile it all together for people to see and hear, and have a memento from the trip. I think location was important on the trip, but maybe we took the live shows into bizarre directions for no reason at all, it was just purely fun. There was one place where the crowd was a little bit awkward, so that show was a bit strange.
I’ve actually always wondered about location, and whether it affected my work. Myself, I can’t hear it, but others have told me they could. A friend of mine used to tell me when I lived in California that he could hear the ocean’s influence in the music. Obviously some records that have more apparent field recordings from India or Indonesia have locational importance, but now being located in Tokyo, I’m sure that being here has a vast influence on my music, I’m just not sure what exactly.
TJN: Well now that you mentioned you have been thinking about sense of place, which seems implied by many of your works. Growing up in Mississippi and now living and working in Tokyo seems like a huge stretch from your origins. Do the sounds of your surroundings, whether they be field recordings or the latter echoes of the familiar grounds that you call home, find their way into tracks you lay down…and if so how evident (or not) would you like that intimate experience to be expressed?
WL: I’ve always tried to trace those influences in everything I’ve done, but I still can’t pinpoint where things come from. The places where I grew up, and the place I live now are so different, yet I feel very at home in both. I try to put everything into every piece.. there are influences of everything, not just the sounds and environments, but things I see, memories that come back, and bits of culture from each place. It’s all just a giant collage of diaries of experiences, feelings, and each passing and future moment.
TJN: You continue to release some of your work on cassette tape. I find this mildly amusing as I look back on tape culture of yore. Though it does, in so many ways, puts limitations on your audience and access to your work. Does that at all concern you and could you say some about exclusive small editions like this?
WL: Yes, cassette tape. It is an old format, but I release it still for the same reason as many others.. I’m okay with any format, I just release on whatever format people offer me. I don’t try to only release CD, vinyl, or cassette, I just take what comes. Probably not surprisingly, releasing a large output makes it difficult to find labels to release your work frequently. It’s actually quite a lot of work trying to find the right labels, so sometimes cassette is the only format available. Digital is my least favorite format, but it’s useful for out of print physical releases, and archival material.
TJN: Ahhh, cassette culture strikes again (love it)!
You have developed a knack for lower end ambient sounds? Actually, do you even consider your work ambient?
WL: I actually do consider it ambient, but not so much in the style of directionless music that Eno describes it as. For me it does have direction, it isn’t just endlessly wandering. For me, ambient means thoughtful, and pure. I think it’s significantly different from drone, which my music is constantly labeled. Drone is something I always associate with deep, continuous sounds. I’m not sure exactly, but I’ve always thought of it as ambient, but maybe my own terms and ideas for it are different.
TJN: There are few of your contemporaries, like yourself, such as Christopher Bissonnette, Jamie Drouin and even Thomas Köner to some extent who help bring about this waking sleep effect when you let yourself loose to a deep listening experience. Are you familiar with Francisco Lopez’s sensory depriving blindfolded shows where the audience usually is laying on cushions — or — Steven Stapleton’s or Robert Rich’s ‘Sleep Concerts’? Could you imagine performing in this most interactive way? Thoughts….
WL: Strangely I’ve never intended to accompany my music to any kind of sleeping or meditative state. For me it’s about touching emotion and feelings. I think this kind of music can still be interactive in a live space though. It’s lazy music. I don’t mean it to be entrancing or meditative, but something you listen to sometimes, sometimes not, and interact with that way. It’s like hearing one part, and thinking about that moment for a while. When you come back around, and stop daydreaming, you find something else is already happening.
TJN: You have recorded for over a dozen labels, but have kept a consistent sound. Knowing that you’ve also independently self-produced quite a bit of material how do you feel working with an outside label helps in/form what you do or release? Do you have any good examples of how your creative direction may have been influenced as such?
WL: I do enjoy a lot working with labels, and working with new labels is always a good experience too. Sometimes labels have a large amount of influence in albums, but for the most part it’s only an influence in the artwork or presentation. I almost never change the original submissions to labels unless I do it by my own decision. Most labels never ask for any changes, or I’m already doing something to rework it myself. The artwork sometimes is heavily influenced by the label, but I think it just helps with uniformity for their label catalog, and at the same time, it’s really nice being part of a larger group in a catalog, like a series.
TJN: I’m curious about your musical influences and emergence. Were you in a high school band or do you play any traditional instruments? The low lying bass nodes make me wonder: were you into punk rock or heavy metal?
WL: I played drums in the school band for maybe 2 years in junior high, and quit after that. I wasn’t ever in any bands, but I did listen to all kinds of music. I liked grindcore a lot when I was in college, and in high school, mostly shoegazer and 80’s industrial. My father liked oldies and movie scores, and my mother broadway. Strangely those things still influence me a lot in different ways, too. Now I’m enjoying a lot of new wave and 70’s and 80’s film scores mostly.
TJN: The work of Celer seems custom made for the backdrop of a silent motion picture. Have you incorporated your work in other forms?
WL: Hardly ever. I’ve made a few installations, and have made music for some films, but largely it’s limited only to independent music. Hopefully I can develop that more in the future.
TJN: Thanks for being here.
WL: Thank you for listening, and being interested. I appreciate it a lot 🙂
## CELER SITE
A Duck in a Tree is a new weekly radio program brought to you by the minds behind the seminal :zoviet*france: to be broadcast by the net radio station, Basic.fm from Newcastle upon Tyne, featuring a 60-minute continuous mix of some of the best genre-refusing, zero bpm, hypnotropic and maximinimalist recordings that have grabbed my attention, and will be broadcast. Simply tune in to Basic.fm where you will locate links to connect via iTunes, Winamp or the Basic.fm iPhone app.
If for some reason in the universe you are not familiar with this long-running project please consult this live show:
Sundance (directed by Nils Helling) comes from Plankton’s latest record NEON now out on the Karaoke Kalk imprint.
Andrew Liles has been recording since the mid 80’s. His music, which is both eclectic and diverse, is often minimalist, surrealistic, experimental and hypnotic, and attempts to transcend any obvious style. Liles’ music has been described as “thoroughly chilling” with “incredible sonic depths of dark ambience.” and by industrial.org as “foreboding and at times [a] truly unsettling aural examination, a Rorschact rain cloud streaming out blurred images and tangled memories…”
Originally published in April 2004
Andrew Liles: Jolly old? Jolly Old England? Most people here are pretty miserable, I’m afraid…
TJN: When I read that, for you, “creating music is my way to unravel my own neuroses and general discontents… “ I was intrigued. Perspective is everything and sometimes helps the viewer/listener – the general audience – to get into the artist’s brain, even if briefly. Do you care to expound on that statement, maybe with regard to a recent project?
AL: I think anyone who creates ‘serious’ music is constructing a message, an image of themselves for themselves. It’s up to the listener to identify with it or reject it – it doesn’t really matter to me what people take away from it. I want people to like what I do, in fact I would like to see it stocked in every Walmart, the number one best seller in 39 countries, but the music I create is not for any given market per se. It is a platform for expression and emotions that can’t be realized in my ‘normal’ world, the real world.
I think with the general uneasy sounds I create there is an underlying malaise and obvious discontent with the world that comes across in my music – I think it reads quite easily – here is someone who doesn’t really glean a lot from the modern world. So the creation of these tracks is a way of airing my discontents and recordings such as Aviatophobia are methods of dealing with my fears and phobias – though I can’t say they have helped .
I think ‘experimental’ music does talk largely to outsiders, people who have alternative visions and philosophies, lonely people isolated emotionally or philosophically detached from the vast majority of ‘normal’ people. I think experimental music is a space in which people can unravel their minds, indulge their melancholia or develop a fantasy world in which to escape. Essentially, I think my music is my own little utopia, my little realm to exorcise my fear and loathing, a place formed of little worlds and spheres and orbs that reject the ‘real’ world – who wants to be of the real world anyway? People can take from the music what they like and I hope they do but I don’t regard myself as a messenger or a prophet in any way. It’s introspective and idiosyncratic, as I assume most of my listeners are.
TJN: Aural Anagram seems like a very serious project in that sense – to me, it was one of the more unusual projects of 2003. It had an incredible psychological context and shone a dramatic life into one of the most bizarre artists of the twentieth century, Hans Bellmer. How did you come up with the idea? Were you exposed much to his work in the past? What link(s) do you see between the visual and sound arts?
AL: I have loved Bellmer’s work for many years. It was extremely radical in its day and is executed with a precision that is amazing – perverse technical drawing, taboo and strange, an amazing imagination. I think Bellmer was such a proficient draftsman he could articulate his ideas and execute what was in his mind’s eye directly on to the page – a rare ability indeed.
I liked the idea that Bellmer saw the body as an anagram and tried to apply this notion to Aural – I started off cutting up the sentences read by various friends and acquaintances of mine in a style not too dissimilar to Burroughs’ ‘cut up’ theory – this didn’t work so I just left the random sentences. I think the album might have worked better if it was put to an exhibition of Bellmer’s work, I think people were listening to it as purely a piece of sound art and had limited knowledge of Bellmer’s work – it’s very hard to articulate what I wanted to achieve through sound alone – The pieces are about a series of over printed etchings by Bellmer and in general not the whole of his work. I think I naively expected that people would have a certain amount of knowledge about Bellmer already, so I don’t think you can link the visual arts to sound arts too easily.
There is talk of me playing Aural live to an exhibition of Bellmer’s work in France later this year – whether it comes to fruition remains to be seen. I think people don’t really want to mix both art forms as one distracts from the other – for me it works – but I think it’s very rare that the two worlds can work in a way that is successful, i.e., having a profound effect on the listener/viewer. I think people can only really concentrate on one thing at a time – they either go for the art or for the music – one form has a greater presence over the other.
TJN: Will the box set you have coming out soon be a collection of all your output to date? How did it come together?
AL: The box is a collection of CDRs that I have released since 1997 – it’s not the complete works – it’s the complete collection of CDRs that I released for various live shows and whims and follies. I thought I would release it all again because my ‘fan’ base has grown and a lot of people missed out the first time round. I think it has come out quite well with a lot of forgotten material that didn’t appear on the original CDRs. I think it’s a collection that should be heard and not forgotten, as it is unlikely that I will be making music in this way again or in the form of CDR. It’s a relatively cheap way of getting loads of music out to those who wanted the complete back catalogue. It would have been a shame to let some of this music just slide into oblivion and be forgotten, I think there are some really nice pieces hidden amongst the hours and hours of music here. It looks good and is a document of pretty much everything I have recorded since 1984.
TJN: That’s really almost a service to your audience and at the same time – a chance to hear material that may have been scrapped on the editing room floor – almost like a special behind-the-scenes director’s uncut version. Talk some about your feelings around self-produced work such as this, its freedoms, drawbacks, costs….
AL: I think a lot of people have the opportunity to create and release their own music now with the advance of consumer electronics getting cheaper and easier to use. It’s a good thing and a bad thing as it gives those a voice who wouldn’t have had one 10 years ago but it has flooded the market with a lot of mediocre output and cluttered the shelves with poor music, it’s hard to make a discerning choice on what to buy these days because there is far too much choice. I think there are too many people fighting for a really small market – in all honesty how many people are into ‘experimental’ music worldwide? – I guess about 10,000 people at the very most and at times it seems 9,000 of those are also ‘musicans’. I think a lot of music has become judged on how good the packaging is these days as well. Releasing your own music is tough, no two ways about it. It’s expensive and hard work. Distributors seldom want to know you and those that do seldom pay you. But if you are confident in what you do and genuinely passionate about what you are trying to say, it can be immensely rewarding. You meet some of the nicest people in the world who always stay in touch and look forward to what you are going to release next. I have only self released one ‘proper’ CD – Aural Anagram. The other two albums have been through Infraction. I have released all of the CDRs myself and they, rather surprisingly as most people seem to distrust or discredit the format, have always sold really well.
TJN: What are your primary sources of inspiration in music? And/or are there other incidentals that reaffirm your creativity, maybe even subconsciously, on a daily basis?
AL: Reading is probably the primary source of inspiration or finding found objects or images. Seldom, if ever, am I influenced by other people’s music and rarely do I watch any films. I will find a sentence in a book, or a strange phrase or witty line and adapt a song around that using the line or phrase as the title and inspiration for the song. I also find old Edwardian and Victorian postcards and photographs that inspire artwork or other song titles and create fictitious auditory tales that I find talk to me, manifest and emanate from these forgotten, out of time and place timeless images – every picture has a story.
I think I approach making music as a form of chance and improvisation. I seldom if ever can recreate the piece again and I suppose I create it at a subconscious level – but the message is blurred at times even for me who has created it. A lot of chance, random elements and luck go to making an Andrew Liles song. Each song is a one off in a way and could never be created again partly because I am not a proficient enough musician, partly because I would have forgotten how I made it and partly because what’s the point? I have deleted all the masters of the albums so there is no real chance of remixing or readapting the original – what’s done is done. I think it’s healthy to let things go.
TJN: Have you traveled much? Where have you been and when you have played live – are there certain international audiences or cities that stick out in your mind for some reason?
AL: Yes, I have been to quite a few places around the world. The next album for Infraction is about travel and anagrams (again), there are recordings that I made in assorted locations last year, a kind of auditory travelogue. For instance, I have mixed the sound of a pedestrian crossing from Prague against the sound of a pedestrian crossing in Gothenburg, likewise London underground with Prague metro, New York USA mixed with field recordings made in York, Yorkshire UK. I enjoy playing live abroad more so than the UK and find small, intimate audiences at universities or suchlike far more receptive than, say, rock venues.
TJN: Can you talk about the role that experimental music has in the larger sense of sound/music/noise as we know it in 2004? Do you feel part of this long legacy of sound art that has developed since Kurt Schwitters, John Cage, Iannis Xenakis and others? Do you feel in any way connected to your contemporary soundmaking peers in this light?
AL: I think it would undermine the great leaps and innovation set by the likes of Xenakis and Cage to say I was any part of that. The likes of Cage, etc., are true innovators that made a path I can safely say I have had no part in carving. In fact, pretty much everything that has evolved from Stockhausen, Cage, and Ligeti is generic and I think it will take something unimaginable to supercede what they have done. I wouldn’t consider myself a pioneer of any kind – then again there is nothing new under the sun.
TJN: I cracked up reading your top ten records – most were either hard rock or noisy, edgy works. I hear the attitude in your own work but the finished outcome is truly deeper, more cerebral, perhaps a filtration of some of these fused ideas? Nurse With Wound’s Soliloquy for Lilith would certainly make it to the top of my list of favorites for its depth, character, and haunting air of solitude. How do mysterious cults, paganism or secret societies play into your practice of making music if at all?
AL: I don’t think I like any noise music. I think it depends on how you define ‘noisy.’ But I do love metal; I think it’s great. It has an energy and honesty that avant-garde or experimental music can often lack with its often sedentary approach. I also think it’s healthy to have wide [-ranging] interests in music. I think to listen to experimental music all day can be dull, like reading philosophy all your life. I think everyone needs a little pulp fiction. I even approached Rob Halford of Judas Priest fame to sing on a track; obviously, I haven’t had a reply!
With regard to Soliloquy for Lilith, I also think it one of my all time favorite albums. When it was originally released, it came with a flyer saying something along the lines of ‘Music for meditation, relaxation, blah blah blah and breakfast’. I think it truly is a recording that has many, many functions, it can be listened to intently with headphones, listening out for every nuance and change, but it can be great for reading, relaxing in the bath, ironing, cooking and indeed breakfast. It really is a great recording; I don’t think I can think of an adequate analogy, maybe it is the aural equivalent of a Swiss army knife, a tool for every job. I love all those minimal recordings, it would be nice to have Coil’s Time Machines, Salt Marie Celeste, a few things by Eliane Radigue, Colin Potter and H3O just playing continually everywhere. I could never tire of them.
With regard to mysterious cults, I think in part early ‘industrial’ culture has steered a lot of artists down this well trodden path. In the twenty-first century the world of science and technology, hustle and bustle… people can easily become enthused with notions of the old gods and mystical beings because they are seeking a more earthy or simple existence, trying to escape mundane everyday life or the troubles and responsibilities they have. I guess all music stems from the primordial drum beater calling upon the gods, but I certainly don’t sit about in the studio with a copy of Magick in Theory and Practice trying to think of a way I could invoke Choronzon into people’s sitting rooms, in part because I don’t believe in the stuff and because I don’t think it’s possible. If my music can entertain someone and involve his or her attention for a given amount of time, that in itself, for me, is a magical act. I have dabbled with occult ideas and periphery ideas such as EVP because I find them fascinating, but as to engaging either myself or my music into esoterical equations or incorporating secret sigils – no. That aside, in a recent review I was described as ‘The last alchemist of experimental music…’ which was very nice – hahahahaha. Also, the latest B side of the 6” lathe cut record (titled after Marilyn Monroe’s vital statistics) was initially going to be called ‘The Kabalistic Properties of Marilyn Monroe’s Vital Statistics’… so maybe I do have more than a soft spot for these things.
TJN: How do you work? Do you sample sounds, use sequencers, laptop, tape machines…..what are your favorite tools in the studio?
AL: For the core of my music, I use two pretty beaten up cheap old synths, slowed down tapes, old records and my voice processed, pretty rudimentary stuff – nothing elaborate. I write the ‘songs’, record them live, tweaking as I go using an FX unit. Then [I] edit the mess through the computer adding anything and everything on the way really, live instrumentation, guitars, recorder, piano, field recordings, old pots and pans, anything that makes a nice click, fizz or hum then just alter those core sounds sometimes beyond recognition. I often wind up a million miles away from where I originally started and my initial concept.
I don’t know much about computers and haven’t really got the inclination to learn, and I don’t have a sampler, but [I] loop stuff either on tape or using the PC. I never use sequencers or a laptop. I think it’s important to have a range of ways of creating music and not to forget how versatile tape is and the complex, fractured warm sounds that can be created using old technology. I think computers lack the random possibilities of tape but do things better in different ways, it’s good to have both options and utilize both to their full advantage.
I wouldn’t ever limit myself [in] the way I work or what style of music I create – if I wanted to do a rock song or an acoustic number I would/ I wouldn’t consider myself a strict ‘electronic’ artist and I wouldn’t tie myself to any genre.
TJN: Are there any collaborators you have been interested in – or even in discussions with – to record with in the future?
AL: One of the next albums coming up has Aaron Moore and Nick Mott from Volcano the Bear, another album for Infraction has Freek Kinkelaar and Frans de Waard of Beequeen who appear on a collaborative track that was improvised at a show on the US tour last year. Yet another album that should be out this year has narration by a maverick, nonconformist and genuine aristocrat, Lord Bath. I recorded him in his penthouse at his estate – it’s a very English and distinctive album. Lord Bath’s name probably means very little in the US but he is practically a household name here in the UK, renowned not for only having one wife but many of what he calls wifelets. Also, Colin Potter and I should have something sorted before the year is through, what format this will take is as yet undecided. And Nigel Ayers from Nocturnal Emissions and myself should be working on a track or a piece about legendary performance artist John Fare.
TJN: What are your upcoming plans for touring live or presenting your work in other contexts? Do you create sound for installations? What do you think of this type of practice that seems to be evolving, opening up to new audiences….
AL: This year so far I have nothing planned as to live shows – I played quite a bit last year – and I am still unsure as to whether my music works live at all. I would love to do music for film or an installation. Going back to the Bellmer thing I’m not entirely sure if installations can break new audiences or if it has evolved – as I said before I think people can only really concentrate on one thing at a time. They either go for the art or for the music – one form has a greater presence over the other. On top of that I really don’t know enough about installation art/music to give an educated answer. As for tours I am always open to the right kind of offer.
TJN: I am going to play the wayward Barbara Walters for a moment, if you don’t mind….What are you reading these days? Do you cook? Have a favorite radio station or program or internet broadcast?
AL: Rather bizarrely, I can combine two questions at once. I am reading a biography about the cook Antonin Careme – Cooking for Kings: The Life of Antonin Careme – The First Celebrity Chef by Ian Kelly. It’s fascinating stuff, full of the most exotic and decadent recipes imaginable. And I’m a terrible cook.
Also, I have been reading several short books published by Shire Books, about the history of sweets and sweet shops and follies, I solemnly recommend you go to their website and discover some of the fascinating titles available –
What bookshelf could be complete without a copy of Betel Chewing Equipment of East New Guinea or Land Snails of the British Isles and Cassava and Chicha: Bread and Beer of the Amazonian Indians?! I never ever listen to the radio – ever.
For more information about Andrew Liles, visit his website: www.andrewliles.com
By TJ Norris
Top 10 ::
- Angel :: Hedonism (Editions Mego)
- Byetone :: Death of a Typographer (Raster-Noton)
- Machinefabriek + Stephen Vitiello :: Box Music (12K)
- Kamran Sadeghi :: Through Thickness (Dragon’s Eye)
- Ethan Rose :: Oaks (Holocene Music)
- DJ Olive :: Triage (Room40)
- Omit :: Interceptor (Helen Scarsdale Agency)
- Lawrence English :: Studies for Stradbroke (Winds Measure)
- Nadja/Netherworld :: Magma to Ice (Fario)
- Jos Smolders :: Gaussian Transient (Megaphone) (Nonvisualobjects)
Honorable Mentions ::
- Black Sun Productions :: The Milky Smell of Phantom Sperm (s/r)
- Monolake :: Hongkong Remastered (Imbalance Computer Music)
- Fennesz :: Black Sea(Touch)