Album Review: Rehgrafsivart Tela Duchu – A Sonic Odyssey into Noise and Texture
Released in 2018 under the dual imprints of Tingo Tongo Tapes and Korobushka Records, Rehgrafsivart Tela Duchu by the enigmatic artist of the same name is an uncompromising dive into the chaotic beauty of electronic noise. Mastered with precision by Michael Rozon, this album doesn’t just push boundaries—it obliterates them entirely. The genre might be labeled as Electronic, but its style leans so far into Noise that listeners may feel like they’ve stumbled into a malfunctioning transmission from another dimension.
The record opens with “A Procession Of Goats,” a track that grabs your attention immediately—not always gently. It’s a swirling maelstrom of distorted frequencies and dissonant tones, layered over what sounds like faint, ghostly whispers. There’s something oddly ritualistic about it, as if you’re eavesdropping on some ancient, otherworldly ceremony. I remember this track vividly because it refuses to let you settle into comfort; instead, it keeps you teetering on edge, unsure whether to marvel at its complexity or recoil from its abrasiveness. It’s not for everyone, sure, but those who appreciate sonic experimentation will find themselves returning to it again and again.
Then there’s “Tela Duchu,” which feels like a more introspective counterpart to the opener. While still steeped in noise, this track introduces moments of eerie calm amidst the chaos. Imagine standing in a pitch-black room where sudden bursts of static pierce the silence, only to fade back into near-silence. It’s haunting yet strangely hypnotic, like staring at storm clouds rolling across a desolate landscape. This one sticks with me because it plays tricks on your perception—just when you think you’ve figured out its rhythm, it shifts unpredictably, leaving you both frustrated and fascinated.
What makes Rehgrafsivart Tela Duchu stand out isn’t just its technical execution (though credit where it’s due—Rozon’s mastering work ensures every screech and hum hits with maximum impact). It’s the way the album challenges conventional ideas of music altogether. Is it listenable? Absolutely—but not in the traditional sense. You don’t put this on for background vibes during dinner prep. No, this is music that demands your full attention, almost daring you to endure its unrelenting intensity.
In a world increasingly obsessed with polish and accessibility, albums like Rehgrafsivart Tela Duchu serve as reminders that art can—and should—be confrontational. Listening to it feels less like entertainment and more like participating in an auditory experiment gone gloriously wrong. And honestly? That’s kinda refreshing.
Final thought: If this album were a person, it’d probably show up to a party wearing mismatched socks and proceed to loudly debate the merits of deconstructing pop culture while everyone else awkwardly sips their drinks. Love it or hate it, you won’t forget it anytime soon.
