Slovenian born Austrian resident Osojnik sings haunting, deeply affecting torch songs into an electrical storm of her own devising. Pieced together from sounds of radios, tape recorders, CDJs, “installation tubes” and “abandoned pianos”, Osojnik pushes these artefacts and the places she found them in until they become wild alien creatures seething with desires of their own. Every surface has its own grain, every deep drone fluctuates and breathes. Unidentifiable flying sound objects flicker in and out of view. Above it all, Osojnik’s voice is imbued with lust and longing, or righteously angry, as if on the point of bursting out of the recording to snarl straight in the listener’s ear. An urgent record, bursting with ideas.
(The Wire, 07/2016)
