Beyond the Wall of Sleep

In accordance with a custom that has become as much ritual as indulgence, I persist in my daily readings throughout this haunted month of October, immersing myself in the cryptic and eldritch narratives penned by the very architect of cosmic dread, H.P. Lovecraft. On this particular day, I find myself drawn inexorably into the strange and haunting corridors of his work, “Beyond the Wall of Sleep,” where realms beyond our comprehension glimmer darkly on the edge of perception.

It had long been my belief that human thought consists basically of atomic or molecular motion, convertible into ether waves of radiant energy like heat, light, and electricity. This belief had early led me to contemplate the possibility of telepathy or mental communication by means of suitable apparatus, and I had in my college days prepared a set of transmitting and receiving instruments somewhat similar to the cumbrous devices employed in wireless telegraphy at that crude, pre-radio period.

Our narrator, a former intern at that dread institution, the mental hospital, recounts a singularly unsettling encounter with one Joe Slater, a man whose brutal hands had delivered him to the clutches of law and madness alike. Slater, a coarse and untutored denizen of the wild Catskill Mountains, had been condemned for murder, his mental faculties deemed shattered beyond repair. Yet, from the moment of his confinement, there emerged in him a wild and otherworldly fury, manifesting in violent seizures and ravings, incomprehensible to those around him. Nightly, Slater would plunge into these fearful fits, each outburst more lurid than the last, describing in his crude vernacular visions of a burning entity—an astral presence bent on vengeful retribution. The doctors, baffled by the savage’s uncouth and rustic nature, could not fathom how such untaught lips could shape such spectral images.

It was then that the narrator, seized by a morbid curiosity and remembering the strange apparatus he had once devised for the purpose of telepathic communion, resolved to investigate further. This device, born of the radical theory that thought might indeed be a form of radiant energy, had yet yielded no success. But now, as Slater teetered on the edge of oblivion, the narrator fastened his creation to Slater’s fevered brow. What followed shattered the foundations of all the narrator had known. Through the medium of this deranged mind came a revelation—an ancient truth too horrible to contemplate. A being of light, inhabiting Slater’s form but unbound by flesh, spoke of realms beyond sleep, where their slumbering souls wander amongst unfathomable planes, untouched by mortal understanding.

The being revealed its impending battle with an eternal nemesis near the distant star Algol, a conflict waged in a realm where matter was meaningless. When Slater at last succumbed, a brilliant star flared into existence near Algol, burning bright in the night sky before fading over the following weeks. The eerie coincidence left me pondering whether Slater’s death had not merely been a release but the herald of something far more cosmic and terrifying.

Polaris

In the waning days of October, as the eldritch chill of autumn crept through the twilight hours, I once again revived my sacred tradition. Each day, a solitary tale from the arcane mind of the master of cosmic horror, H.P. Lovecraft, graced my thoughts, casting shadows deeper than the encroaching night. Today, I turned my trembling gaze to “Polaris,” that star-born nightmare, whose otherworldly light pierces through the veil of forgotten time and forgotten dreams.

Slumber, watcher, till the spheres
Six and twenty thousand years
Have revolv'd, and I return
To the spot where now I burn.
Other stars anon shall rise
To the axis of the skies;
Stars that soothe and stars that bless
With a sweet forgetfulness:
Only when my round is o'er
Shall the past disturb thy door.

Our tale commences with a narrator, adrift in long, sleepless vigils beneath the infinite vault of night, his gaze riveted upon the baleful presence of Polaris, the Pole Star. He describes it as a malignant, watchful eye, a cosmic sentinel that seems to convey an ancient and terrible message, now long forgotten. One fateful night, beneath a ghostly aurora that writhed above his swamp-bound abode, the narrator’s mind is drawn into a strange dream—a marble city, stark and silent, perched upon a lonely plateau, and bathed in the eerie light of Polaris.

Within this spectral city, he observes its denizens, conversing in a language unknown yet disturbingly familiar to his ears. Upon waking, the dream clings to his consciousness like a shadow, returning night after night, growing ever more vivid and insistent. Our narrator’s obsession deepens, as he grapples with a terrible uncertainty: could this otherworldly city be real? Could his waking life be the true illusion?

Over time, his desire to merely observe the city transforms into something darker, more desperate. He begins to question the very fabric of reality, unsure whether his fragile existence belongs to the waking world or the dream-realm. In one fateful vision, he finds himself not merely a distant observer, but an inhabitant of the city—Olathoë, upon the plateau of Sarkis, in the ancient land of Lomar, now besieged by the brutish Inutos.

Assigned to a watchtower, he is tasked with guarding the city from invasion. Yet as he gazes upon Polaris, its malignant power grips him, and he hears an ancient, cryptic rhyme whispered by the hateful star. Overtaken by confusion, he succumbs to sleep, failing in his duty. Upon awakening, he finds himself once more in his swamp-bound home, yet now utterly convinced that his life is but a dream, and that his true fate lies eternally bound to the lost city of Olathoë, forever unreachable, forever haunting.

Dagon

In this accursed month of October, I have embarked upon a dread and solitary journey, wherein I shall immerse myself, each day, in the abominable works of the master of cosmic terror, H.P. Lovecraft. Today’s offering to the void is that eldritch tale of unspeakable horrors, “Dagon.”

The end is near. I hear a noise at the door, as of some immense slippery body lumbering against it. It shall not find me. God, that hand! The window! The window!

In this ghastly testament of a broken soul, a man ravaged by morphine recounts a nightmarish incident during his time as an officer in World War I. After his cargo ship is seized by a German raider in the desolate Pacific, he escapes in a lifeboat, drifting aimlessly until he lands upon a loathsome black mire. This hellish wasteland, strewn with decaying sea creatures, seems to be the ocean’s floor, upheaved by some cosmic force from unfathomable depths.

For days, he traverses this foul expanse, finally arriving at a monstrous chasm, where a great white monolith stands. Carved with indecipherable aquatic hieroglyphs and grotesque sculptures, the stone hints at an ancient, aquatic civilization. As he gazes in horror, a nightmarish creature rises from the depths—its form too ghastly to comprehend.

In terror, the mariner flees back to his boat, losing consciousness in a storm, only to awaken later in a San Francisco hospital. There, no one believes his story of the unearthly Pacific upheaval. Even his inquiries into the ancient Philistine god Dagon are dismissed.

Plagued by haunting visions, especially during the gibbous moon, and with his narcotic escape fading, the narrator prepares to end his life. As he writes, he hears a terrifying sound outside—something immense and slick pressing against the door. His final cry, filled with madness, invokes the horror of a monstrous hand at the window before the narrative ends in unspeakable terror.

The Tomb

In the shadowy recesses of my youth, each October I partook in a most curious ritual—a daily communion with the macabre genius of H.P. Lovecraft, immersing myself in one of his dread-laden tales as autumn’s chill encroached. Today, that ancient tradition stirred once more within my soul, compelling me to delve into the spectral pages of “The Tomb.” How strange, yet wondrous, was my discovery that the band Rudimentary Peni had woven Lovecraft’s very drinking song from “Dream City” into their haunting opus, Cacophony! Truly, it was as though the eldritch whispers of the Old Ones still echo through the dim corridors of our modern world.

“The Tomb” unfurls with the darkly enchanted life of Jervas Dudley, a soul possessed by strange reveries. From childhood, his spirit is drawn to a long-abandoned mausoleum belonging to the Hyde family, whose mansion had perished in fire and ruin. Jervas, unable to breach the tomb’s padlock, succumbs to a peculiar obsession, taking solace in slumber beside its cryptic entrance. Yet in the shadowy intervals of years, the tomb seems to call him, beckoning him with spectral light and forgotten secrets.

One fateful night, Dudley uncovers a key in an ancient chest, long since rotten. He descends into the depths of the tomb, finding a coffin eerily inscribed with his own name—“Jervas.” Each night thereafter, Jervas believes himself drawn to rest within that sepulcher, though others see him only beside it, untouched by its interior gloom. Haunted by strange forebodings of thunder and flame, his once peaceful contemplations unravel into visions of debauched revelry within the now-restored Hyde mansion—a phantasmagoric feast doomed to burn as it once had, and again, he perishes within its inferno.

Yet when he awakens, Jervas finds himself restrained, declared mad. The tomb’s lock, untouched by mortal hands, betrays no entry. Consigned to an asylum, his mind writhes in the unfathomable, until his faithful servant, Hiram, at last breaks the lock and reveals what lurked below: the coffin, bearing his name. Jervas, his fate entwined with ancestral doom, declares that he will one day take his rightful place, not in life, but in death’s eternal slumber, as the grave he sought all along was, indeed, his own.

Come hither, my lads, with your tankards of ale,
And drink to the present before it shall fail;
Pile each on your platter a mountain of beef,
For 'tis eating and drinking that bring us relief:
So fill up your glass,
For life will soon pass;
When you're dead ye'll ne'er drink to your king or your lass!

Anacreon had a red nose, so they say;
But what's a red nose if ye're happy and gay?
Gad split me! I'd rather be red whilst I'm here,
Than white as a lily–and dead half a year!
So Betty, my miss,
Come give me a kiss;
In hell there's no innkeeper's daughter like this!

Young Harry, propp'd up just as straight as he's able,
Will soon lose his wig and slip under the table;
But fill up your goblets and pass 'em around–
Better under the table than under the ground!
So revel and chaff
As ye thirstily quaff:
Under six feet of dirt 'tis less easy to laugh!

The fiend strike me blue! I'm scarce able to walk,
And damn me if I can stand upright or talk!
Here, landlord, bid Betty to summon a chair;
I'll try home for a while, for my wife is not there!
So lend me a hand;
I'm not able to stand,
But I'm gay whilst I linger on top of the land!

SOUNDWAVE : 192 : ROOM OF WIRES

SOUNDWAVE 192

Today’s guest are the Andrews from Room of Wires.

I came across Room of Wires on the ever-reliable Igloo Mag. They occupy that space where industrial grit meets the sharp edges of intelligent dance music. My curiosity piqued, I turned to Bandcamp and their latest album, Floodplains. Four tracks in, I was captivated. I reached out to have them guest deejay on Soundwave.

The two Andrews hail from the UK. They conjure dark, delicate melodies with synths, field recordings, and software. They’ve never met, choosing instead to work alone, sharing their sonic ideas across the vast ether of the internet. One among tangles of hardware and wires, the other adrift in software and virtual cables.

 

Room of Wires
Room of Wires

Their discography is spread across labels like ant-zen, Rednetic Recordings, Section 27 and PingDiscs. They’ve left their mark on numerous compilations and film scores, like Shifter and Versus. Now, they’re crafting their third album for ant-zen, set for release later this year.

Join us next week where our guest deejay will be Peter Adjobia of Ryu Recordings.

  1. Koichi Shimizu “Primeval”
  2. Room of Wires “A Temporary Lapse In Violence”
  3. The Black Dog “Just Pretend To Be Someone Else”
  4. Naum Gabo “Schinokapsala”
  5. Lanark Artefax “Metallur”
  6. André Bratten “Fold”
  7. Lakker “Pylon”
  8. flint glass & ah cama-sotz “Irã-ã-mray-me”
  9. Zságer Balázs “Tükörtenger”
  10. António Sá “Partition_ Monolog”
  11. NEXCYIA “Tales”
  12. SabaSaba “Night Plotters”
  13. Ital Tek “Never Doubt”

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SOUNDWAVE : 191 : PHILIPPE NEAU

Today’s guest deejay is Philippe Neau.

Philippe shared a mix with us last summer. Philippe didn’t know it, but his mix was tailor-made for me. Beastie Boys? Scorn? Rockers Hi-Fi? Yeah, I’m all about that stuff.

So. Invited Philippe back for another show, and of course, he did not disappoint. This time, Philippe is dropping dopamine bombs with the likes of Ben Frost, Sunn O))), and The Bug. He gets me. Bonus: Philippe turned me on to a bunch of musicians I know nothing about, so I’ll be going down that rabbit hole. Thanks, Philippe! If you see me nodding and swaying in the summer streets of Chicago, that’s me listening to Philippe’s mix.

Want new Neau? You can pick up his new album, “Before and after silence”, recorded with Anja Kreysing and Hans Castrup, here. Not enough for you? Fine. Then there’s “V​.​A. – r I ɘ (2024)”. That should do you.

Join us next week.

  1. Le Crapaud “Intro”
  2. Jan Jelinek “Them, Their”
  3. Kim Gordon “Paprika Pony”
  4. Black Saturn & Grosso Gadgetto “Earth Projet 00”
  5. Ben Frost “The Carpathians”
  6. Scott Walker & Sunn O))) “Soused”
  7. The Haxan Cloak “Excavation (Part 2)”
  8. Hildur Guðnadóttir “The Door”
  9. OVOD “Final”
  10. Biosphere & Deathprod “Warp Warpable”
  11. Emma Goldman “des lucioles à l'horizon”
  12. Innocent but Guilty & NLC “Celestial Target”
  13. Grosso Gadgetto & Philippe Neau “illuminations”
  14. Pan America “ivory joe hunter, little walter”
  15. Philippe Neau “Eblouissements Nocturnes”
  16. The Bug Ft Dis Fig “End In Blue”

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SOUNDWAVE : 190: BROKEN CHIP

Soundwave 190

Today’s guest deejay is Martyn Palmer AKA Broken Chip.

I came across Martyn while scouring Bandcamp for new music, a modern treasure hunt. Immersed in his album The Quiet Garden, I found myself drawn into its depths. I asked Martyn to share a mix with us.

Martyn is an Australian musician and sound artist, a creator of serene soundscapes. His works have graced labels such as Flaming Pines (UK), Feral Media (AU), King Deluxe (CA), and A Future Without (UK). His music, often built on looped sounds, crafts a tranquil, contemplative atmosphere. His latest work, Landscapes, exemplifies this gentle electronic ambience, captivating listeners with its peaceful stillness.

 

Martyn Palmer AKA Broken Chip.
Martyn Palmer AKA Broken Chip.

The name “Broken Chip” arose from his trials with a malfunctioning Roland Juno 106 synthesizer. The 80017a VCF/VCA voice chips began to fail, producing a detuned, raspy sound. Martyn wove this brokenness into his music, finding beauty in imperfection. Though the synthesizer eventually became unusable, the broken sound it produced inspired the name of his project.

Martyn hopes his music serves as ambient background sound, suitable for homes, planes, or trains. Once released, he seldom reflects on its reception, preferring to let listeners discover and experience it on their own. His initial promotion is brief; he avoids persistent self-promotion, letting the music speak for itself.

Martyn has two albums coming out on Home Normal later this year. You can look forward to them, and perhaps, find solace in the quiet moments he creates.

Join us next week when our guest deejay will be Philippe Neau.

See you then.

  1. James Murray & Mike Lazarev “Ānimitta”
  2. THME “Wisdom of restraint”
  3. r beny “Alone in the Pavilion”
  4. Grouper “Alien Observer”
  5. Mark Jenkin “Enys pt.1”
  6. Jonny Nash “Perfume Dream”
  7. Tiny Vipers “Young God”
  8. Masaya Ozaki “Opið Rými”
  9. Daou “Silent Garden”
  10. Federico Durand “Hojas frescas de eucalipto”

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SOUNDWAVE : 189 : TIM MCMANUS

SOUNDWAVE : 189 : TIM MCMANUS

Today’s guest deejay is Tim McManus, the had honcho of Island House Recordings, a little label based on a little island in the East river, Roosevelt Island, NYC.

How did I cross paths with Tim, you ask? Oh, the usual circuitous route.

A few years back, Stefan Beck, who moonlights as Golden Brown, took over the turntables on Soundwave (you can check out Stefan’s mix here). I asked him who might be keen to share a mix on an upcoming show, and without missing a beat, he recommended Tim. Stefan said he curious to hear what Tim put together. After doing a deep dive into Tim’s label, I was curious, too.

Tim did not disappoint. He kicked off his set with a track from The The — talk about a curveball. That unexpected twist set the tone for the entire mix. From there, Tim kept the surprises coming, weaving through tracks from Gastr De Sol (I’m a longtime David Grubbs fan) to Nimbudala. You’re in for a treat!

Naturally, I’m already primed to ask Tim who he thinks should helm the decks on Soundwave next.

Join us next week when our guest deejay will be Broken Chip.

See you then.

  1. The The “Red Cinders in the Sand”
  2. Seawind of Battery “Clockwatching”
  3. Hipwell “Big Eternal Beautiful”
  4. Nick Millevoi “Moon Pulses 4”
  5. Gastr De Sol “The Seasons Reverse Live”
  6. Pat Keen “Dance with Wheeler”
  7. The Modern Folk “Guitar Mist”
  8. Gerycz Powers Rolin “Activator”
  9. Sage Martens “The North American Bison”
  10. Nimbudala “Peace Rock II”

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SOUNDWAVE : 188 : DREW SULLIVAN

SOUNDWAVE : 188 : DREW SULLIVAN

Today’s guest deejay is Drew Sullivan.

Drew is the Mastering Engineer for Past Inside the Present, an ambient label and the home of a passionate, collaborative artistic community pursuing the world’s most inventive and engaging quiet music. They aim to moor the listener in changing tides with a captivating sense of permanence, blurring the ephemeral with the eternal.

I thank Zach Frizzell, AKA zakè, or putting me in touch with Drew. After Zach shared his mix on Soundwave (you can and should listen to it here), I asked him who he knew who might also want to guest deejay on Soundwave. Zach recommended Drew, who also records under the monicker Slow Dancing Society.

Drew Sullivan
Drew Sullivan

Drew is a Washington-based musician/producer and nostalgist extraordinaire. If ever there was an artist who truly expressed themselves in a way that defies everything music and art expect and, at times, demands, then Slow Dancing Society would be that artist. As with Brian Eno’s finest moments and David Sylvian’s ambient explorations, Drew’s music manages to dissolve its temporal markers and speak about moments removed from time.

Drew, in his modesty, didn’t include his own music in his mix. However, I strongly recommend you purchase his latest album, Do We Become Sky? Drew suggests experiencing the album in its 86-minute entirety, as it’s a spiritual successor to Priest Lake Circa ‘88. This album is inspired by the namesake location, evoking visions of childhood freedom and innocence, family road trips through northern Idaho, and a yearning for a simpler past.

While I’m at it, I urge you to pick up Live Improvisations, which came out earlier this year. The album features Chihei Hatakeyama, Hakobune, zakè, and From Overseas. Oh, and listen to From Overseas’s mix for Soundwave here.

Join us again next week when out guest deejay will be… me!

See you then.

  1. Charles Webster “The Second Spell (feat Ingrid Chavez)”
  2. BT “Nicht Musik [Verklärung] No.2 in D major”
  3. Ryuchi Sakamoto and Alva Noto “First Dream / Second Dream”
  4. Angelo Badalamenti “Mulholland Drive”
  5. James Newton Howard “Times Square”
  6. Asche & Spencer “I Needed You”
  7. Cliff Martinez “Gold Paint Shoot”
  8. 36 & Isaac Helsen “All Possible States”
  9. Johnny Jewel “Saturday (Evening)”
  10. John Murphy “Mercury”
  11. Nancy Wilson “Elevator Beat”
  12. Skrillex “Ride Home”
  13. The Dream Academy “Power To Believe”
  14. James Newton Howard “Legacy”
  15. Asche & Spencer “Tyrell”
  16. Peter Gabriel “In Doubt / A Different Drum”
  17. Charles Webster “The Spell / The Second Spell”
  18. Telefon Tel Aviv “Lengthening Shadows”

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SOUNDWAVE : 187 : MARC BEHRENS

SOUNDWAVE : 187 : MARC BEHRENS

Today’s guest deejay is Marc Behrens.

Soundwave has become possible based on the network the show has created. Each guest deejay leads to another guest deejay.

In January, Radboud Mens dropped a devastating set, which you can listen to here. Afterward, I asked Radboud who he thought would share a mix on Soundwave, and he thought I would share a mix on Soundwave. Radboud suggested Marc, saying, “his stuff is quite diverse, from sound art to ambient drone.” Uh-huh. That doesn’t begin to scratch the surface of Marc’s sonic explorations.

Marc is a multidisciplinary fine arts, music, theatre, and literature artist. He explores electronic and concrete music, installation, performance, photography, text, and video. He has over 30 music albums released since 1989 and has exhibited and performed internationally. Marc is known for radio dramas like Progress (2013) and Nachtsprache (2021) and collaborated on the album Bauteile (2014) with Atom™. Marc is a member of DEGEM, ran the label Animal Art (1989–1993), and founded Availabel in 2014. Marc has also taught at various institutions and mentored young artists.

Whew! And that’s just a brief bio of Marc. And today’s show is a snapshot of Marc’s work. Marc’s creativity is unrelenting. If you love today's mix, and I know you will, then you’ll be thrilled to know that you can look forward to his recent and fetching releases. They are Our Tongues in Your Ears, which was released in April on Marc’s label, Availabel. Marc’s albums Aiear and Clould will be released on Crónica on May 21 and June 25, repesctively.

Marc has some words about his mix below.

See you next week.

Marc Behrens. Photo by Joana Machado.
Marc Behrens. Photo by Joana Machado.

This Podcast for Soundwave features music from different periods of my work and includes some unreleased material from the archives, never before played publicly. Thanks to Radboud Mens, who recommended me to Joseph Aleo.

“Feet or Fist” (1989)
A piece from the cassette album Entomo from 1989, my third-ever release, played with a Casio SK-5 Sampling Keyboard, a bamboo clarinet, and some percussion.

“Fever” (2015)

All sounds were generated from the recording of a fever delirium in the Summer of 1988, processed with the Cconfin software by Ennio Mazzon. They were produced for the project Quark: How Does the Invisible Sound?, by invitation of Fabio Perletta.

“I was Never (Long Version)” (2004)
“A Disco Boy (Long Version)” (2004)
Longer versions of two short pieces that were released on the split-10" EP Product 04 on Crónica, Portugal. Original sound material generated from remixes of music beyond the human listening range, originally by the Japanese artist *0. Voices culled from a presentation of the remixes.

“eeaiooaeieeaiooaei (2011)”
Part two of a cycle of three pieces composed with recordings of voices made in 1990 (solo voice: Kerstin Menz), and voltage-controlled car horns made in 2002.

“Paiva Players (2011)”
Entirely composed with field recordings of the landscape, animals, people and supposedly supernatural beings of the Paiva River in Portugal (and, oh yes, the electronic church bell of Nodar village!). Recordings made during a residency at Binaural in 2010, a place devoted to sound art, art in rural areas, and also rural culture. This is an unreleased alternate mix of material from my album Recurrent.

“Mamori (2008)”
Composed with field recordings made in the Amazon rainforest while on a residency at Mamori lake, a project led by Francisco López at the time. Mostly birds, insects, frogs and tree frogs – and a howling monkey. Some elements and sounds from this track ended up in my radio piece Bushdesertrainforest for WDR 3 culture radio in 2009.

  1. Marc Behrens “Feet or Fist”
  2. Marc Behrens “Fever”
  3. Marc Behrens “I was Never (Long Version)”
  4. Marc Behrens “A Disco Boy (Long Version)”
  5. Marc Behrens “eeaiooaeieeaiooaei “
  6. Marc Behrens “Paiva Players”
  7. Marc Behrens “Mamori”

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Logo by Rik Oostenbroek