Omit’s in/Sec is “new,” but not new. Recorded in 2013, the masters lost in the label’s murky somewheresville that always shows up when moving. For those who don’t know, Omit is an experimental electronics artist from New Zealand’s south island who, since 1990, has released thirty-some xerographed cassettes and CDrs in the Dead C orbit for those who do. It’s not enough to say that in/Sec is an ambient masterpiece bringing to mind a John Carpenter soundtrack performed by the Hub because listening to it engineers new species. The infectious and corrupting sounds synthesize new life forms in your brain’s enzymes. If you specialize in a niche too much, you are prey to predators outside, but Omit never goes for low-hanging fruit and isn’t simulating anything. I can vomit a better looking face than the ones on these little fuckers eating my brain right now.

In this century that flatters itself to be of drinking age, it is a queer thing we haven’t come face to face with aliens. There is a time for everything and they’re all intermixed. Besides the xenobiological effects, Omit constructs your sentiment through timbral concepts that repeat and shift with minimal reference to harmony, melody, key, or mode. Streams jump and skitter, knitting tightly high and low in a dense rattling driven to the long and most plaintive tones amongst the countless gizmos (that’s including you, but not “you”). This one is for big fans of Anode/Cathode, Ikue Mori, Papa Srapa, Fronte Violeta, and Insignia refrigerators.