Brimming with warm washes of drone, Patches morphs through stoned hip-hop to gospel and highlife. Densely layered percussion, drunk synth, lost voices and temporal distortion flit in and out of earshot, inducing a joyful lostness. Riding this sea of colourful wooz, B£AMS channels Madlib, Delroy Edwards and Matthew Dear with stumbling ADHD enthusiasm.
Occupying a colder, unheimlich universe, the flip side sees B£AMS dredging sea caves for dense undulations of jazz-infused drone, while marshalling armies of static from somewhere above the clouds. Hypnotic mantras, eroded landscapes and encoded loops are run through analogue tape equipment, à la Matthew David or Leyland Kirby, as he collates the muttered instructions for some gestalt machine.
'velvety keys and molasses drone ooze, ideas collapse and whispered vocals bubble and retreat Doppler-like' - No Fear of Pop
'the best of blissed-out heartfelt electronics' - Beach Sloth
'these songs exist in the space between sleep and wake - where time bends and bubbles, divine murmurs fizz into the distance and technicoloured layers of synth and stutter beats collapse under their own weight' - The 405
'tape looping action that's soothing my stressed and weary mind quite beautifully' - Norman Records