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26—07—18
A 70-minute meditation on pagan winter rituals that moves through drone and granular texture like smoke through a shuttered room. Hexeneiche treats the seasonal calendar as compositional material—each side a gradual accumulation of low frequencies, field recordings of nothing much, and the kind of patient abstraction that rewards the kind of listener who doesn’t need things to happen. Not grimly atavistic, not New Age kitsch; just cold, methodical, and oddly grounding.