Pwin ▲▲ Teaks : Aoxomoxoa
Dark ambient, tribal
Label – Brave mysteries
1 The Mirror Cabinet of the Water Witches
3 Phantasmagoria Suite
On the movie Lost Highway there is this point when, in silence (if my memory serves me right), Fred Madison enters a dark hallway in his house for few seconds. The camera loses him to the blackness, and when he comes back out of it, we are looking at the same person, yet something is different. The familiar face becomes the face of a stranger, and that notion can haunt us to insanity. The same thing happens on this recording by Pwin Teaks. The three tracks, forming together a 46 minutes long album, are echoing familiar sounds and experiences, disfiguring them into specter images of their former selves. The shamanistic blend of electronic sounds with bestial shrieks and vague whispers ends in Aoxomoxa’s utter detachment from known, cultured space. Floating somewhere in the limbo between wild savannahs and cocktail parties, Pwin Teaks juggle their music and bring forth a brilliant enigmatic, even mystical phenomena to life.
Between the three tracks, Pwin teaks develops a scale between boiling blazes of disturbing moments which spew forth a chaos of tropical heat, monkeys in anger and reversed electronic pulses, to calmer, yet unsettling nonetheless, red carpets of vague voices and low, buzzing drones. The wondrous thing about Pwin Teaks is that the environment that descends with the music of Aoxomoxoa, an environment that is twisted without a doubt, is as obscure as the elements it harbors. The result of this alien experiment is standing in front of the listener, naked from disguises and stories, yet incomprehensible despite the familiar components in it. Pwin Teaks does not cast shadows over the audience. It blinds completely with ancestral light and leaves the listeners hanging somewhere high and moist between limbo and pandemonium.