Reinartz – Irradiated
appendix-files
2025/11/30
- 1A Point for Everything to Spread
- 2Empty Time (A Flowing Out)
- 3A Sponge and a Mirror
- 4Love as an Antidote to Fragmentation
- 5Empty Time (Leaking Skin)
- 6Things That Fall Right Into Place
- 7Empty Time (Murky Dub)
- 8Telluric Murmur
APPXLP02
•
Open edition
Appendix.files rolls out its second LP with Irradiated, an eight-part excursion from Berlin-based sound artist and producer Kurt Reinartz. It’s a record that thrives in the slipstream between dub-techno heritage and what he describes as ‘ADHD-ambient’, tracing radiant particles as they blur into textured depths. Reinartz sculpts a luminous but uneasy world, where melody flickers like static inside a charged atmosphere. With artwork by Montse Cruz and design by Amos Turner, Irradiated folds tactile craft into a patient, detail-driven approach to sound.
It opens with “A Point for Everything to Spread” a slow ignition steeped in the dubby depths of ’90s German techno, vocoded swells pulling tension tight before releasing into wide-eyed gush. “Empty Time (A Flowing Out)” pivots to a boxy 4/4 kick whose elasticity could rival any fabric, mesh or rubber Gore-Tex, shot through with dub-techno tropes sharp enough to sit alongside a Chain Reaction platter. “A Sponge and a Mirror” floats on velvet sub pressure, its strange, fractured voices trying to seep through dimensional cracks, while “Love as an Antidote to Fragmentation” lets a shy warmth seep through the irradiated fog — tenderness glowing inside shifting sonic matter.
Flip the disc and “Empty Time (Leaking Skin)” seeps outward, porous rhythms dissolving borders between inside and out. “Things That Fall Right Into Place” twists Amen breaks into a splintered dialogue, before climbing toward a lush spill of pads, hoover bass and gleaming arpeggios — rave euphoria replayed through a half-lit dream. “Empty Time (Murky Dub)” submerges everything in subterranean ooze, stabs of clarity poking through the haze. And then there’s “Telluric Murmur,” rooted in hydrophone and geophone recordings from Berlin’s Kaulsdorfer See: a porous conversation between landscape, body and signal, an earthbound resonance vibrating just under the surface.
Irradiated is a study in permeability — how emotion, matter and memory pass through one another, leaving faint afterglows. It’s not an escape but an attunement, a quiet mapping of the radiation between
inner and outer worlds.
It opens with “A Point for Everything to Spread” a slow ignition steeped in the dubby depths of ’90s German techno, vocoded swells pulling tension tight before releasing into wide-eyed gush. “Empty Time (A Flowing Out)” pivots to a boxy 4/4 kick whose elasticity could rival any fabric, mesh or rubber Gore-Tex, shot through with dub-techno tropes sharp enough to sit alongside a Chain Reaction platter. “A Sponge and a Mirror” floats on velvet sub pressure, its strange, fractured voices trying to seep through dimensional cracks, while “Love as an Antidote to Fragmentation” lets a shy warmth seep through the irradiated fog — tenderness glowing inside shifting sonic matter.
Flip the disc and “Empty Time (Leaking Skin)” seeps outward, porous rhythms dissolving borders between inside and out. “Things That Fall Right Into Place” twists Amen breaks into a splintered dialogue, before climbing toward a lush spill of pads, hoover bass and gleaming arpeggios — rave euphoria replayed through a half-lit dream. “Empty Time (Murky Dub)” submerges everything in subterranean ooze, stabs of clarity poking through the haze. And then there’s “Telluric Murmur,” rooted in hydrophone and geophone recordings from Berlin’s Kaulsdorfer See: a porous conversation between landscape, body and signal, an earthbound resonance vibrating just under the surface.
Irradiated is a study in permeability — how emotion, matter and memory pass through one another, leaving faint afterglows. It’s not an escape but an attunement, a quiet mapping of the radiation between
inner and outer worlds.
