Outages by Re Pro Cor: A Sonic Dive into the Weird and Wonderful
Alright, buckle up, folks. If you’re looking for an album that’ll gently massage your brain with sounds you didn’t know existed, Outages by Re Pro Cor is here to deliver. Released in 2014 under Mazurka Editions and Earjerk Records (fancy names for something this delightfully strange), this record isn’t your typical playlist fodder. Nope. It’s a wild ride through genres like Field Recording, Drone, Dark Ambient, Experimental, Minimal, Musique Concrète, Abstract, and even a dash of New Age. Yeah, it's as chaotic and layered as that list sounds.
The vibe? Imagine if someone left a microphone running in an abandoned factory while playing eerie synth tones from another dimension. Now add some abstract noise textures that make you question reality. That’s Outages. Oh, and did I mention it’s got tracks cleverly named things like “Outages I” and “Outages III”? No “II,” though—because why not keep us guessing?
Let’s zoom in on two standout tracks because, honestly, my ears can’t handle reviewing all of them without needing a nap.
Track 1: Outages I
This one kicks off the album with what feels like the auditory equivalent of walking into a haunted library at 3 AM. There are distant hums, metallic clangs, and these weird ambient drones that feel like they’re whispering secrets directly into your subconscious. What sticks with me about this track is how it builds tension without ever really breaking it. You’re waiting for the big drop, the explosion, the moment where everything makes sense—but nope. It just keeps simmering, leaving you hanging like a bad cliffhanger episode. And yet, somehow, it works. By the time it fades out, you’re either deeply unsettled or weirdly zen. Or both. Definitely both.
Track 3: Outages III
Ah yes, skipping straight to III because rules are overrated. This track feels like being trapped inside a malfunctioning spaceship—or maybe just someone’s fever dream about space. The layers of sound here are ridiculous. Like, imagine a broken radiator gurgling in the background while aliens attempt Morse code communication using distorted whale songs. Sounds bonkers, right? But there’s something oddly hypnotic about it. About halfway through, there’s this low-frequency drone that hits you right in the chest, like a subwoofer hug from an invisible friend. It’s unsettling but also kind of comforting, which sums up the whole album perfectly.
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So yeah, Outages isn’t for everyone. If you’re into catchy hooks, sing-along lyrics, or anything remotely resembling pop music, this might send you running for the hills. But if you dig experimental vibes that mess with your head in the best way possible, give it a shot. Just don’t blame me if you start hearing ghosts in your toaster afterward.
Final thought: Listening to Outages feels like eavesdropping on a conversation between machines having an existential crisis. And honestly? We could all use a little more mechanical soul-searching in our lives.
