OCR's third release at P/Psi/P bears only the simple designation of Y. Appropriately, Y is a triple-album set, echoing both the catalog number and the physical shape of its monogrammed namesake.
Y is a junction point, a confluence of three rivers flowing inward toward each other from the northwest, northeast and deep south. Individual tracks exist to indicate starting coordinates, latitude and longitude encoded as aural ciphers. At it's centre, a quiet village sits - imperceptibly awash with the tones of the day, a windy harmony of three disparate provenances. Unmapped and unnamed, it consists of six stone structures, weathered down to seamless surfaces via uncounted centuries of humidity. The improbable waters form a moat around the buildings, where clocks no longer work correctly, and daylight is abbreviated between nights that seem endless. A fountain, spare and unadorned, in the shape of a circle with a triangle inside, pools with a still blue fluid in the middle of the small settlement. In sunlight, it seems inert and shallow, but as night falls, a faint fluorescence begins to manifest, alongside beckoning depths of black below the gentle surface. Truly, this place calls to wanderers and seekers, in a swirling voice that is not made of sound or vibration, but memory and temperature. This sleeping micro-isle, built by a people whose names have been eroded away long ago, and could never be pronounced now in any common tongue. Your directions have been given, the stars fixed, the beam aligned and the past ground down into the dusty paths you'll now follow. You always have, you always are and you always will.
released March 27, 2018
W/P by Brian Grainger & John-Paul Kramer. Constructed using only source sound from the Recycled Plastics album Syrup, by Occur. Recorded at White Pillar Workshop, March 2018. Mastered by The Analog Botanist. Text and design by ABM&D. This is Psoma Psi Phi number OCCUR 3.