Refractions by Tracya: A Sonic Kaleidoscope That’ll Mess With Your Head (In a Good Way)
If you’re into electronic music that feels like it was brewed in some Italian basement laboratory, Tracya’s Refractions might just be your next obsession. Released in 2019 under the Parallel Horizon label, this album is a wild ride through dub, ambient, techno, and acid vibes—basically, all the good stuff without any of the filler. And let’s be real here, when an artist names their tracks things like “Session 004” or “Hatred,” you know they’re not messing around.
Let’s dive into two standout tracks because ain’t nobody got time to review an entire album (even though I could). First up, “Hatred.” This one hits hard right outta the gate—it’s moody, brooding, and sounds like what happens when a broken heart gets together with a drum machine. The bassline slinks around like a cat sneaking up on its prey, while these glitchy little details pop up unexpectedly, keeping you on edge. It’s dark but oddly comforting, kinda like hugging a cactus wrapped in velvet. You remember this track because it doesn’t just play; it lurks.
Then there’s “Refractions (ags version),” which is basically the musical equivalent of staring at light bouncing off a prism for ten minutes straight. It starts off slow, all floaty and ethereal, before dropping layers of sound so rich you’d think Tracya raided a candy store for synths. By the halfway mark, you’re not sure if you’re listening to music anymore or floating in space. Either way, it sticks with you—not because it’s loud or flashy, but because it’s subtle enough to worm its way into your brain and set up camp.
One thing I gotta say about Tracya? They don’t overcomplicate things. Each track feels intentional, like every beat and bloop has a purpose. There’s no fluff, no unnecessary frills—just pure, unfiltered electronica goodness. Plus, coming from Italy, where style reigns supreme, you know this album wasn’t slapped together during a caffeine-fueled weekend binge session.
So yeah, Refractions isn’t perfect, but who cares? Perfection’s boring anyway. What makes this album memorable is how raw and immersive it feels. Listening to it is like taking a walk through someone else’s dream—a weird, slightly unsettling dream filled with echoes and shadows. If anything, it reminds us that sometimes the best art comes from letting go of control and seeing where the chaos takes you.
Oh, and fun fact: If aliens ever invade Earth, playing them this album might actually convince them we’re worth sparing. Or maybe not—but hey, at least we’d go out dancing.
