Surrogate Sibling – Surrogate Sibling
Label: autentico music | Released: 2016 | Genres: Classical, Modern Era, Electronic | Styles: Modern Classical, Contemporary
Alright, let’s get into it. Surrogate Sibling’s self-titled debut album is one of those records that makes you question everything—your taste in music, your life choices, maybe even your existence. It’s not just an album; it’s a head trip wrapped up in strings, synths, and some seriously twisted composition work by Dieter Dolezel (who also plays guitar and handles electronics). You’ve got Jeremy Harman on cello, Carlos Cipa tickling the ivories like his life depends on it, and the Sirius String Quartet adding layers so rich they’ll make your ears bleed—but in a good way.
The first thing that hits you? The artwork by Benja Sachau. It’s stark, cold, abstract—but somehow fits perfectly with the vibe of this record. Like staring at modern art while someone whispers math equations in your ear. And then there’s Christoph Stickel mastering this beast and Peter Fuchs mixing it all together. These guys didn’t mess around—they made sure every note punches through like a dagger to the chest.
Now, I’m not gonna sit here and pretend I listened to every single track religiously. Who has time for that? But two tracks stuck out like sore thumbs: "CXCIV" and "XLI_INTERLUDE_II."
“CXCIV” feels like walking into a room where everyone’s arguing but no one’s speaking English. There’s tension everywhere—in the plucked strings, in the electronic hums lurking beneath the surface. It builds slowly, almost imperceptibly, until suddenly you’re drowning in sound. Fung Chern Hwei’s violin cuts through like glass breaking mid-air, sharp enough to slice open your soul. By the end, you’re left breathless, wondering what the hell just happened. It’s disorienting as fuck, but goddamn if it doesn’t stick with you.
Then there’s “XLI_INTERLUDE_II,” which is basically the calm after the storm—or so you think. At first, it’s serene, almost meditative, with soft piano notes from Carlos Cipa floating over sparse string arrangements. But then BAM! Outta nowhere comes this low, rumbling drone courtesy of Dolezel’s electronics, throwing shade on the whole peaceful vibe. It’s like being lulled into a false sense of security before getting sucker-punched. Love it or hate it, you won’t forget it anytime soon.
What really ties this whole thing together is how unapologetically weird it is. This isn’t background music for sipping tea—it demands attention. Every instrument, every note, every damn pause serves a purpose. Hell, even the track titles look like they were ripped straight out of a Roman numeral textbook. Is it pretentious? Maybe. Does it work? Absolutely.
But here’s the kicker—the more I listened, the more I realized this album isn’t trying to be liked. It doesn’t care about fitting neatly into any genre box or appealing to casual listeners. It exists because it had to exist, consequences be damned. And honestly? That’s kinda badass.
So yeah, give Surrogate Sibling a spin if you want something that challenges you instead of spoon-feeding you catchy hooks. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you when it hijacks your brain and refuses to leave.
