Halv Drøm

The alchemy of techno is forged with a variety of tools. In darkened concrete crucibles, flowering tongues of light leap lapping across flesh slick with sweat, as bass hammers the shape of the sound into the minds throbbing within. In a city that both reveres and takes such institutions of arcane aurals as commonplace, what revelations may yet be gleaned on the dance floor? — The sonic world of Halv Drøm delve deep into this burning question. Weaving science and spirituality into well-established engines of industrial, EBM and post-punk, Saxon Jorgensen’s work seeks to break out of the confines of “dark” music (by this point an overused descriptor, particularly in these crumbling times) to shape something far more imperious and personal. Whereas techno is so often used as a sledgehammer, Jorgensen wields it like an ice-sculptor with a chainsaw. Rooted in an appreciation of personal magick and political upheaval, accordingly a strong DIY aesthetic is Halv Drøm’s backbone. Field recordings, guitars churned into shrieking maelstroms, binaural frequencies that sidle beneath waves of polyrhythmic experimentation, and a willingness to go beyond comfortable dance patterns are all in play here. Modern electronics and ancient chakra tonal systems form a ritual of harsh healing; imperative in our time.