Argentinian electronic artist Aylu's taste for wacked-out humour, interstellar synths, awkward funk bass lines and pointillistic computer music is tied together on elastic bands, thrown around and webbed into this kaliedoscopic new suite. Moments of hallucinogenic ambience emerge then elapse, tumbling into wiggling rhythmic patterns. The ghost of Jaco Pastorius haunts the mainframe, battling in real time with pinball machine synths and splattering digital percussion. The James Ferraro 'post-internet music' influence in Aylu's music is apparent, but there's something about her work that feels more rooted in the physical world. When sounds of percussion rattle like builders hard at work, and voices appear both singing and yawning, it serves as a perfect metaphor for practice; music that is made from hard graft, but with tongue firmly lodged in cheek.
"I like the temporal nature of music, being something that develops over time, which makes it different from a photograph or a painting. You can step into a narrative in a fictional world, not because it tells a story per se – I am not telling a concrete story in my music – but as a space you can enter and navigate. I like creating virtual, fictional worlds." - Aylu (interview in KRAAK's Avant-Guardian)
The young Buenos Aires-based producer Ailin Grad had been self-releasing music under the Aylu pseudonym for several years before being picked up by Orange Milk and Sun Ark Records. Her work spans genres and aesthetics, going from electrifying footwork and hallucinogenic juke to sophisticated electroacoustic compositions of mind-bending quality.