–Hotel Neon Gleó 10:58
–Endless Melancholy Elusive Movements 10:53

Print/Track 05 - Hotel Neon & Endless Melancholy


    Musicians asked to collaborate with a poet or visual artist resulting in a 10" vinyl record

    Limited to 300 copies.

    Hand Numbered

    Housed in handmade laser-cut laser-etched jackets and an acrylic sleeve.


    Ships Late April



    The lovely abstract cover art comes from Gregory Euclide, who is also ~ surprise ~ the owner of the relatively new THESIS label. This label has been coming on strong over the past few years, releasing limited handmade records that present the work of some of our favorite artists, including Aaron Martin, Sophie Hutchings and Rafael Anton Irisarri. One of our readers wrote in to tell us that the records he’s purchased from THESIS are among his most cherished physical objects. The label offers two ongoing series, THESIS and PRINT/TRACK, and one release under the ARRANGEMENT banner as well. Half of the tracks eventually make their way to a CD collection, while the other half remain exclusive.

    PRINT/TRACK 05 showcases Endless Melancholy’s “Elusive Movements” on Side A and Hotel Neon’s “Gleó” on Side B. These are generous, 10-minute pieces, each meant to create and sustain a mood. “Elusive Movements” continues the ethereal theme, setting the stage with warm synths that establish a base camp before the piano moves in. Valiska does not seem to be involved here, as the notes stay where they are played, looping like cherished thoughts, eventually ceding ground to a slower mode of reflection. A light catharsis is achieved by the rising chords of the final minutes. Then it’s Hotel Neon’s turn. “Gleó” (which may mean “mirth, joy or music”) begins with rain, leading to safe conversation behind varnished windows. The low drones take their time like a lazy afternoon, fluffing the sonic field like a pillow. The overall effect is one of comfort. The tracks are expertly paired like wine and cheese, working in tandem to extend a welcome to the weary traveler. Only a third of an hour has elapsed, but the listener already feels the weight of the world falling away. (Richard Allen)