Album Review: MALKA YEQUM by Patricide (2017)
Released under the radar on Not On Label, MALKA YEQUM by Patricide is an ambitious dive into the experimental side of electronic music. Blending IDM, ambient, and abstract textures, this 2017 album feels like a sonic labyrinth—equal parts disorienting and mesmerizing. With tracks that range from glitchy soundscapes to meditative drones, it’s not for everyone, but if you’re into music that challenges as much as it soothes, this one’s worth your time.
Let’s talk about “SEVERANCE” first. It’s the kind of track that sneaks up on you. At first listen, it feels like a fragmented puzzle of beats and atmospheric hums. But give it a few spins, and it starts to click. The way Patricide layers sharp, staccato rhythms over a bed of ethereal pads creates this weird tension—like standing at the edge of something vast and unknowable. You don’t know whether to step forward or retreat, but either way, it sticks with you.
Then there’s “REJECT MY LOVE II.” Don’t let the title fool you; this isn’t some sappy ballad. It’s more like a deconstructed dancefloor anthem. The beat drops in sporadic bursts, almost teasing you, while eerie vocal snippets float in and out of the mix. There’s a rawness to it, like Patricide took apart a pop song and rebuilt it into something unrecognizable yet oddly compelling. I found myself rewinding just to catch those little details—the faint crackle here, the distorted echo there.
The rest of the album follows suit, weaving through tracks like “MACROCOSM,” which feels like staring at the stars through a broken telescope, and “GANIMEDE,” where the mood shifts into something colder, more alien. Even the closing title track, “MALKA YEQUM,” leaves you hanging with its haunting, unresolved vibe.
What makes MALKA YEQUM stand out isn’t just its technical complexity or genre-blurring approach—it’s how damn human it feels despite its cold, electronic shell. Listening to it is like flipping through someone’s journal, piecing together fragments of their thoughts. Sure, it can be dense and overwhelming at times, but isn’t that what good art’s supposed to do? Mess with your head a little?
Oddly enough, the album reminds me of those late-night YouTube rabbit holes where you stumble across obscure tracks and think, “How did anyone even find this?” Maybe that’s why it works so well—it doesn’t try too hard to be accessible. And honestly, that’s kinda refreshing.
Final thought: If MALKA YEQUM were a person, it’d probably be the quiet kid in the corner who only talks when they’ve got something really important to say. And trust me, once you hear them out, you won’t forget it anytime soon.
