Cyclic Law is a label based in Germany that focuses on dark ambient, industrial, electroacoustic, techno, and other corners of the musical spectrum, as well as innovative combinations thereof. Founded in 2002, Cyclic Law has released over 140 recordings. We have reviewed a number of them, as shown below.
What I appreciate about this label is that its recordings go beyond the dark ambient / drone genre that has been well-explored in the last 25 years. Instead, Cyclic Law recordings provide new sounds, structures, and contexts that advance this field and others.
Visions – Temples (2019)
Cyclic Law’s head Frederic Arbour returns under the moniker of Visions. On this outing, he focuses on deep, dark, slowly oscillating drones and subtlely distorted loops that form a primordial low-frequency sound sculpture. Arbour thoughtfully layers textures upon one another to create a barely restrained walled intensity that spans all seven tracks of this release. Each voice growls, expands and contracts, or provides a semblance of melody that joins together in a coherent assault.
Despite its in-your-face nature, cinematic is also a good way of describing the impact of Temples. Deep caverns, abandoned towns, windswept cliffs, and fog-cloaked woodlands come to mind – all infested with a sense of dread. The title track, in particular, begins with a haunting two-tone pattern that is accompanied by a drifting, pseudo-metallic melody. Ultima, on the other hand, brings unease to life with distorted waves breaking over shifting drones and a pulsing rhythm. Continuum ends the album with shimmering, grinding vehemence, as life is consumed until the cycle begins again.
Built up from relatively simple elements and patterns, there is nonetheless a lot going on as you listen to Temples. This is a solid and compelling release that will afford many listens.
Moljebka Pvlse – Komoku (2019)
Although Sweden’s Moljebka Pvlse has been around for 20 years, this is the first time one of their recordings has crossed my desk, which makes me wonder how much more music of this caliber is out there that I’m not aware of. Komoku explores a cross-genre blending of dark ambient and electroacoustic music, an area in which more and more artists are poking around. As such, it consists of oscillating drones with soft noise walls as well as string, reed, and percussion elements in the foreground (or at least, audio structures that resemble these instruments). Gentle grinding and humming accompany waves and pulses throughout the frequency spectrum. Fractured samples and fleeting utterances overlap with unsteady synthesized rhythms.
The album was developed by Mathias Josefson, who made field recordings in American deserts, and John Björkman, who plays instruments acquired in Nepal. Throughout, both have been deconstructed and processed into waves. These are merged in various ways and forms. The result is an album that is rich in information and detail, with a feel that is both organic and architectural. Each listen brings forth nuances and subtleties that may not have previously been apparent, but without ever being overbearing
Needless to say, this is an unusually strong release that follows its own unique and twisted path.
Monocube – Substratum (2019)
Substratum is a fitting title to this set of eight haunted ambient pieces from Ukranian act Monocube. Instrumentation consists of modular synth and plucked string instruments (mostly guitar, it seems), with a clear emphasis on the former. But deep drones dominate the recording – bass-heavy echoings of lost chambers, unlit passages, and windswept ice-scapes. Tectonic shiftings accompany chant-like voicings. Dissonant static and found-object noises accentuate these dark layers.
The overall result is an album that cannot be ignored or played in the background. While undoubtedly atmospheric, Substratum demands the listener’s attention. The ambiance includes a sense of growing anxiety that ultimately filters into your consciousness.
As the drone genre goes, it can be hard to break new ground. Monocube does so by acknowledging the formula but choosing to build on rather than rely on it. Listen at high volume for the full wall-shaking effect. You may be unnerved but will not be disappointed.
The Nent – Vulner (2019)
The Nent is Vince Gagliardi, based out of Berlin, and Vulner is his debut release. While ostensibly falling into the dark ambient bucket, the music on this three-track EP is primarily a set of atmospheric samples and abstract field recordings that are live-triggered from a drum set. This results in a series of pulsing themes, fractured waves, and distorted effects driven by drum beats and other percussive elements.
But rather than cobble together these constituent pieces, Gagliardi structures them into distinct compositions, each with a logical progression and a sense of purpose. If anything, Vulner exhibits a cinematic ponderousness, with clearly discernable melodies and rhythms. But underlying its occasional catchiness is a menacing darkness replete with tension.
Comparisons? William Basinski, for one. In particular, the emphasis on percussion-based activation of sounds provides a set of oscillating and hypnotic offerings. But while Gagliardi’s namesake wanders in a few familiar spaces, Vulner is its own animal and resists any strict categorization into a genre. Strong recommendation.
Shrine – Celestial Fire (2018)
Bulgaria’s Shrine (Hristo Gospodinov) is back with a follow-up to 2016’s Ordeal 26.04.86. Rather than the Chernobyl disaster theme of that album, Celestial Fire tells a fictional story, based on the Tomb Raider III video game, of a search for alien artifacts. But the six tracks of this album can be listened to and enjoyed without any knowledge of or reference to such background.
While one could roughly lump Shrine into the “dark ambient” category, doing so would ignore his toying with post-industrial elements. As such, Celestial Fire features no shortage of shifting waves of sound, but also gritty electronics, martial drumming, and heavily distorted (though inobtrusive) spoken-word vocals. This combines into dense, windswept soundscapes with an ominous and otherworldly feel.
Not unlike his previous effort, Gospodinov has created an offering that has a remarkable amount of depth and detail that will support repeated listenings. The layered combination of synth and processed elements is compelling and has a singular appeal. Strong recommendation.
Bonini Bulga – Sealed (2018)
Bonini Bulga is Sweden’s Pär Boström, a veteran of projects such as Kammarheit, Cities Last Broadcast, and Altarmang, and offers this solo effort. This eight-piece version of Sealed is an extended variant of a five-track release put out last year.
Sonically, it falls between quiet ambient and slow-moving drone. With heavy use of loops and analog synths, Boström creates dark, sparse soundscapes. His approach is raw and earthy, yet at the same time with an otherworldly feel. Lightly undulating drones combined with subtle looped elements produce a hypnotic effect.
The relative understatedness Sealed is in stark contrast to its sense of foreboding and anxiety. Uneasy synth waves evoke dead cities and broken landscapes with unknown dangers just out of view. Thus, the album challenges the listener on a subconscious level. Nonetheless, the unique stylings of Sealed help it stand out amongst the ever-growing library of dark ambient recordings. Strongly recommended.
AJNA – Lucid Intrusion (2018)
AJNA is a U.S. dark ambient act who goes by the name “Chris F”, and has put out numerous albums over the last few years. Lucid Intrusion is his first release on Cyclic Law, and is a fitting addition to the label’s oeuvre.
The focus here is on walled drones combined with crackling electroacoustic elements that represent a lucid dream gone horribly wrong. This dreamscape is windswept with rumblings of distant thunder as well as more foreboding nearby sounds. Layers of breathy static and processed samples lurk in the foreground, but are often gone as fast as they arrived. At times, the drones seem to growl, while the samples can be jarring and percussive. But much of this occurs at low volume levels, on the edge of perception.
This is a strong release that fans of Raison d’Etre should find appealing.
Visions & Phurpa – Monad (2018)
The term monad refers to a singularity or a single being. The album Monad brings together two artists well-known in dark ambient spaces. Visions is Frederic Arbour (label head of Cyclic Law) and Phurpa is a loose-knit monastic group led by Russian Alexey Tegin. The former contributes dense, layered organic drones and sparse object percussion, while the latter offers throat singing and chants. But not infrequently, the two combine into seamless atmospheric structures as the title might suggest.
Consisting of four tracks in the eight to twelve minute range, Monad is an exploration of the sacred yet ominous, and the ancient but powerful. Representative is the title track, which begins with a windswept soundscape. A couple of minutes in, mournful chanting begins and slowly ramps up in intensity. Throat singing is added, but the vocals never overpower the underlying synth-formed strata. In the last minute, a subtle crescendo is reached, are the voices finally reach the foreground. And with a final, plaintive call, the track ends.
There is something unabashedly medieval or even antediluvian about this album, despite modern technology being used to create that feel. The vocal elements are compelling in particular, especially given their unusual approach. This is a good one for those who enjoy their ambiance cinematic and brooding.
Dødsmaskin – Ingenting (2018; Cyclic Law)
This release of Ingenting is actually a re-issue of Dødsmaskin’s 2015 debut, which has been exceptionally difficult to obtain until now. Musically, it lands squarely between dark ambient, industrial, and acousmatic styles, with rumbling and grinding drones and noise walls. Split across five medium length tracks, these sounds would fit well into a soundtrack of a futuristic horror movie. Aske features an atmospheric drone with echoing metallic scraping and calls. Bionegativ explores a combination of softer and harsher drones coupled with unsettling soundscapes that resemble that of gigantic machines performing unspeakable tasks. The title track, on the other hand, is a softly menacing alien soundscape, with more than a few hints of danger in the endless twilight.
Dødsmaskin is not for everyone, especially those who don’t appreciate a heavy dose of harsh darkness in their evening drink. But for those who do, this re-issued gem comes highly recommended.
Raison d’Etre – Alchymeia (2018)
Raison d’Etre’s Peter Andersson has released over a dozen albums under this moniker. All of these are satisfying, if not genre-defining, examples of ethereal dark ambiance. Alchymeia is his first new effort since 2014 and consists of four tracks coming in at about 17 minutes each.
At first blush, the album appears to be more in the electroacoustic vein than previous releases. Along with slow, deep drones, Andersson supplies rattling percussion and object noises, bells, bassy rumblings, and crashing thunder. As each piece evolves, these aspects move in and out of focus but never really disappear. And the chanting…on Nigredo monks seem to be reading from a sacred text, Albedo evokes the low-frequency singing of giants in their mountain halls, and Citrinitas features choral work. Throughout, there is something sinister at work – a disquieting intentionality that remains mysterious but omnipresent.
Indeed, Alchymeia is intended to be a journey through the subconscious based on Carl Jung’s notion of archetypes. In that sense, the juxtaposition of concrete, organic foreground elements with more subtle background layers seems to represent the inescapable link between conscious thought and that which lies underneath. Accordingly, the background ebbs and flows, but comes to tenebrously dominate the focus of each track. But even without the psychology, this is a compelling release and a high point of Andersson’s career.
Arcana – Petrichor (2017)
Neoclassical dark wave music typically features ethereal and wordless vocals, heavy keyboard and string arrangements, as well as martial drumming. While influenced by medieval music, it uses modern electronic instrumentation. Think Dead Can Dance, but with less of an emphasis on singing.
Founded by Peter Bjärgö over 20 years ago, Arcana is one of the earlier examples of this genre. Petrichor is the group’s first release since 2012. Even though it is a compilation of music from the band’s EPs and singles, the album is still a solid representation of Arcana’s overall sound and feel – it does not stray far from well-anchored roots.
As an example, Part I-II-II, the longest track at 15 minutes, begins with deep synth drones and slow, haunting chants before a tribal drumbeat joins in. Blended male and female voices accompany a slow synth melody over this rhythm. Around the six-and-a-half minute mark, the track switches from the first part to the second, the latter featuring whispered vocals and subtle Middle-Eastern themes over bell-laden percussion. The third part includes complex repetitive drumming, more drones, breathy vocals, and prominent arpeggiated guitar chording.
The music of Arcana evokes something between the high fantasy, gothic, and horror genres. Sparse landscapes, ancient structures, and medieval atmospherics reign. Even if that isn’t your thing, there is a still a lot to like here. And though there are plenty of examples of neoclassical dark wave, Petrichor is not a bad place to start or to round out your exploration of the genre.
Shrine – Ordeal 26.04.86 (2016)
Shrine is the stage name of Hristo Gospodinov, an experimental ambient musician and composer. On Ordeal 26.04.86, his latest release that will be out on October 26, Gospodinov sonically explores the Chernobyl disaster.
The album begins with Atomgrad, a 9-minute piece featuring birdsong coupled with ominous background synths and washes. A foreshadowing of what is to come, the latter grows louder in comparison to the former as the track progresses. Radiant Skyline (Unit 4) follows, a dense synth-laden effort full of rumbling bass and discordant drones. Gospodinov states: “I witnessed the nuclear sunburn effects myself back in 1986 when I was a kid.” Both sweeping and grinding, the track forms an apt representation of such horrors. Under the Graphite Clouds’ electroacoustic crackling invokes a dark hellscape of fallout-infected rain.
The remaining three tracks continue in this vein – thick drones, computer-generated effects, pulsing rhythms, occasional indecipherable spoken words, and a driving undercurrent of ruin. Gospodinov views the events of Chernobyl as being parallel with the biblical book of Revelation, and does not shy away from creating music that reflects apocalypse.
Ordeal 26.04.86 serves both as a memorial to mankind’s worst nuclear disaster, as well as a grim warning to those who might prefer to ignore this date in history. But even without these thematic elements, the music exhibits considerable depth and character. Repeated listens at the appropriate volume will reveal subtleties and an attention to detail. Despite the intended subject matter, there is a lot to like here.
Vortex – Moloch (2016)
Self-described as an “apocalyptic soundtrack for urban decay,” German dark ambient project Vortex returns with their fourth album, Moloch. This offering features both airy keyboard patches and grinding guitar chords over subtle rhythms. Acoustic instrumentation includes strings and flutes, which provide a human feel to what might otherwise be a bleak, post-industrial hellscape.
Like many of this genre, Vortex creates atmospheres rather than melodies. The guitar lines, in particular, are dense walls through which one can hear the throbbing and pulsing of a city at night. Some tracks, such as Hunted, combine the above approach with tribal rhythms, which results in a strange juxtaposition of the aboriginal and a near-future dystopia. As the album progresses, it takes on a more nuanced and introspective direction as times. Measured, single-note piano begins Skyline, though the track evolves into a guitar-laden, pounding theme. City by the Sea slowly builds up disturbing ambiance over the course of its windswept 14 minutes.
This is a very strong release from Vortex – possibly their best yet.
Allseits – Chimäre (2016)
Allseits is German dark-ambient artist Nina Kernicke. After a six-year silence, she is back with a new offering of discordant soundscapes. Chimäre begins with pulsing drones, reminiscent of guitar feedback, overlaid with ominous electronic waves. By the third track, In the Hills, the album takes on a slightly lighter tone, with a rapidly-shifting, sequenced melody surrounded by deeper chords.
This interlude is gone by the next track, Monster, which features acousmatic scrabbling with distorted drones and a throbbing rhythm. On the other hand, the 17-minute October includes ponderous industrial drumming and washes of metallic scraping. The final offering, Sink in Sideways, includes wordless vocals over a slowly boiling and evolving dystopia.
Chimäre is a journey that begins in a bad place, provides a few twinklings of hope, and ends in insanity. Kernicke is not in a rush to get anywhere with her music – the pace is relaxed even if the mood is not. Each piece is tightly composed, with a clear beginning, middle, and end. Comparisons could be made to Lustmord, the darker, late-90’s works of Robert Rich, with a touch of post-rock on the side. A very solid and enjoyable release.
Kave – Ominousium (2015)
Kave is the dark ambient work of The Netherland’s Bram Gollin, who may have been influenced by Robert Rich. On this release, Gollin explores oppressive soundscapes with synthesized waves overlaying crackling undercurrents. The modus operandi herein seems to involve pairs of oscillating drones, each disturbed or jittered to some extent, combined with additional background layers and effects. It isn’t until the fifth track, The Tribes of Nyx, that found object percussion, crashes, and horn-like sounds are interspersed with Gollin’s more spacious approach. Ominousium ends strong, with the final track featuring ebbing and flowing swells of sound, evoking a fast-moving geological process. This is haunting music, no doubt – a soundtrack to a distressful dream – and comes highly recommended to those who prefer a nihilistic dissonance in their late-evening drink.