For the Early Hours of a World in Bloom
Label: Theory Therapy
Genre: Highlights, Electronic
$34.99
Out of stock
Audiopile Review: Following up two previously shop highlighted albums from Conna Haraway and chantssss, NYC producer Alien D joins the Theory Therapy imprint, expanding the label’s cushiony offerings and marking them as a crucial new outlet for liquid ambient and muddied techno permutations. Like his label mates, Alien D explores textural pathways best travelled horizontally, rolling his spheroid programming through dub-centred bass, sci-fi synths, and lush sequences. The lengthy “Breather” draws on The KLF’s Chill Out, its dream-like slide-guitar tones melting into blinkered, starry pools, while “Soil Dub” lives up to its name as an earthy low-end roller spurting with slo-mo breaks, and “Sleepy’s Gambit” and “Allusion” tease out early ‘90s ambi-techno not far from the Namlook/Orb axis of astral immersion. Edition of 200, sold out at the source.
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Alien D, aka Daniel Creahan, is a staple in the NYC underground, known for his releases on labels including Lillerne, 1432 R and Banlieue Records. On his latest album, For the Early Hours of a World in Bloom – his first for Theory Therapy – Creahan takes us deeper into the dubby landscapes of his previous work, with a renewed focus on groove and movement.
Where Lillerne’s Spiritual World leaned toward ambient abstraction, Early Hours pulses with kinetic energy, with tracks like “Soil Dub” and “Sleepy’s Gambit” propelling us forward with dubwise rhythms crafted for the dancefloor.
The album thrives on its infectious, steady groove, with repeating phrases and subtle shifts that keep the music in constant motion. Nowhere is this more evident than on the gentle roller, “Breather.” Over 13 minutes, Creahan lets small variations in tone and a propulsive low-end evolve gradually alongside Ben Seretan’s guitar.
While Early Hours embraces a more rhythmic direction, it still retains the eccentricity and atmosphere that defines Alien D’s sound. Conceived in the first days after the COVID lockdown, there’s a hopeful quality to the music – flickering tones, soft percussive elements and organic textures that hover just behind the beat – making it feel both intimate and expansive. It’s as though Creahan has bottled those transcendent moments that can occur during the early hours of a party, when everything feels suspended in a state of potential.