Album Review: Code by Byrke Lou – A Weirdly Brilliant Dive into Non-Music Vibes
Alright, let’s talk about Code, the 2018 release from Germany’s own Byrke Lou. If you’re expecting catchy hooks or sing-along choruses, this ain’t it. Nope. This is “Non-Music,” straight outta the Research And Waves label. It’s like someone took sounds that didn’t belong together, threw ‘em in a blender, and hit puree. But here’s the kicker—it works.
First off, kudos to Mastered By Norman Neumann for keeping this sonic chaos sounding crisp. And AGF on the text? Solid choice. The whole thing feels like an experiment gone right. There are only two tracks—Side A and Side B—but trust me, they stick with ya.
Let’s zoom in on Side A. Honestly, it’s kinda hard to describe without sounding like I’ve lost my mind, but here goes nothing. Imagine if your brainwaves had a soundtrack while trying to solve a Rubik’s Cube blindfolded. That’s Side A. It starts off all glitchy and fragmented, like broken radio signals bouncing around space. But then BAM! Out of nowhere comes this low hum that grows louder, almost hypnotic. You don’t just hear it—you feel it. Like, literally, your chest vibrates. It’s weird as hell, but also kinda cool. I found myself zoning out completely, staring at the wall like some kind of zen monk.
Then there’s Side B, which flips the vibe entirely. Where Side A feels cold and mechanical, Side B leans warm and organic. It’s like stepping into a forest where trees whisper secrets in binary code (stay with me here). There’s this one section where these sharp, metallic clicks start overlapping with what sounds like distant wind chimes. It shouldn’t work, but somehow it does. It made me think of old sci-fi movies where robots try to understand human emotions. Surreal, right?
What sticks with me most about Code isn’t even the music itself—it’s how it makes you think. Listening to it feels like decoding a puzzle, except the pieces don’t quite fit no matter how hard you try. And maybe that’s the point. Maybe Byrke Lou is messing with us, laughing somewhere in Berlin, thinking, “Yeah, let ‘em figure THAT one out.”
Here’s the unexpected part though: after listening to Code, I couldn’t stop humming random bits of it for days. Not because it was catchy, but because it burrowed its way into my subconscious like an earwig wearing headphones. Is it genius? Is it nonsense? Honestly, I still can’t decide. But hey, isn’t that what art’s supposed to do? Keep you guessing?
So yeah, give Code a spin if you’re tired of cookie-cutter playlists and want something that’ll mess with your head in the best possible way. Just don’t blame me when you start hearing glitches in your sleep.
