Hadley Roe – The Inner Garden
The Inner Garden
Hadley Roe
June 1, 2025
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October 10, 2023
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December 23, 2021
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December 1, 2021
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October 26, 2021
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September 13, 2021
August 1, 2021
July 10, 2021
June 30, 2021
March 25, 2019
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May 9, 2019
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May 28, 2019
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June 27, 2019
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July 2, 2019
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October 14, 2019
October 26, 2019
October 30, 2019
November 4, 2019
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November 25, 2019
November 27, 2019
December 2, 2019
December 5, 2019
December 20, 2019
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December 24, 2019
January 7, 2020
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January 22, 2020
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January 31, 2020
February 4, 2020
February 7, 2020
February 17, 2020
February 19, 2020
February 20, 2020
February 29, 2020
March 7, 2020
March 12, 2020
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March 15, 2020
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March 20, 2020
March 24, 2020
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March 31, 2020
April 6, 2020
April 13, 2020
April 13, 2020
Liam Murphy
July 12, 2019
Tracks in this feature
Tracks in this release
World Interface starts abruptly as a dusty modem bursts into life. It drives a low, arpeggiating sound forward, whilst a lighter melody dances its way through the wake. The interface clicks in time, giving us a steady rhythm to follow. The whole sequence feels like a mix between the brightly coloured loading screen of a childhood video game, and the monstrous rumbles of a gargantuan machine waking up.
Glistening crystal piano is our first taste of what lies beyond the preemptive, introductory melodies. A beautiful, sheet-thin sound plays a sublime set of keys as we lift off into the air.
Soon we are welcomed into a natural ecosystem. The chorus of birdsong and other creatures brings us into some sort of jungle scene. We pave a way through the environment on an intimidating, low pad as if a great metallic ship is cutting through a stream right next to a collection of beautiful wildlife.
Reversed cymbals fall like dew against the vibrant sounds of life. The juxtaposition of the robotic start with what we hear now is clear. And we get an idea that Son Moon’s desired feeling is that of a glitched simulacrum, a projected reality against an uncanny backdrop.
As the pad brings us away from the wildlife, we are introduced to another landscape. A solemn, distorted whistle detaches us from the buzz of life we heard earlier. Sandpaper hissing scrapes against us and we are hit with a torrent of rough sound, as the melody creates a landscape that was once an oasis. The sound sits in the middle of organic and synthetic, shooting past us as we make our way through the desert, a purple sky above us.
Glitched sounds bring about a spray of cymbal that floats across the endless landscape. We hear the faint moaning of animals, their cries gurgled and robotic. They bray and whine in digitised voices. A direct juxtaposition to the rich life that preceded them.
We leave the sand with a crash and a triumphant melody begins. Think what the hold music would be for a dominating corporation in hundreds of years. A celebratory song carried out by strings, and followed with space-age synth, giving the sequence a extraterrestrial ambience. The euphoria of the sounds meander through the stereo field. And they become looser and more washed out. Until finally, with another crash, we are welcomed into some large collection of people. The tune, once proud and astute, now dribbles through tinny speakers as people can be heard conversing. The sound of the different sequences contrast each other heavily, but the simulated nature permeates throughout the whole 10 minutes of the track. Son Moon achieves a role of world-maker, but nuances it with tinges of corporate austere and refined sound.
Listen here: http://wormholeworld.bandcamp.com/track/world-interface