DVD | Film
Stage | Dance
Visual Arts
Best Of The Year
Books | Zines


Make A Donation

Free Downloads

Visit Us On Facebook


Review by Steve Koenig

Drone is one of my favorite boutique labels, which is not to call it precious, save in the sense of valuable, but one rather a label which sells a particular flavor of music.  Drones are seven-inch slabs of colored vinyl, to be played at 33 1/3 rpm, in limited editions usually of 300 copies each. 

Each edition is individualized, but certain aspects are uniform: inside will be a sturdy paper sheet listing all pertinent data about both sides of the disc.  Each artist designs a paper overlay, often with special textured handmade paper or handmade art, surrounded by another thick but opaque plastic sleeve. The solid-colored or mottled vinyl is thick but will have a modicum of surface noise which adds to the intrigue of the music.  Every single Drone I own has its own three- to ten-minute soundworld for you to be lost in.

Some recent Drones:

MURMER.  in his home/ in her head.
Drone DR-85,  ice-colored 7” vinyl.

The cover is solid black, with a large rectangle of hand-made paper, grey with purple and white flecks. 

Side A: "in his home"  
From silence comes a tiny whirring drone with little rays of slowly throbbing high pitched drone, studded with grindy crunchies. Here and there a wooden pop.  Crescendo, and sudden silence.  Sounds manipulated: I hear walking through slushy gravel or the playing of a silent, scratchy 78.  Metal drone enters.  Silence.  Throwing of the bones, thrice, several times.   None of this is literal, of course.  This side exemplifies the best aspect of Drone: a sound world unto itself.  You are totally captivated for five minutes which is its own lifetime.  This track is what the French Metamkine label calls "cinema for the ear," although an aural narrative is the exception for Drones. 

Side B: "in her head"
Low drone rumble, as if an acoustic bass had all filtered out except the lowest frequencies.  Enter a monster slowly chewing paper, overlaid with a low-level whir, not too loud, as if your ears were popping from pressure.  The drone continues, finally ending in a whir and water.

licht-ung - kristall. Drone DR-86, cobalt blue 7" vinyl.

side A: "Listen to the music playing inside your head"
side B: “Heute war ich bei den weissen Elefantens.”
Unless this is just two lines of text on the cover and not the track titles.

White paper sleeve with raised, silk-screened black inks with text in German, of which I understand only individual words: something about stuff springing from rivers, and mother and sister,  The other side a blurred design from woodcuts of plants, animals, and perhaps a house or is that a candle?  A one-inch black and white button is pinned to the bottom of the 7” sleeve, with an abstract design, perhaps of a horse, with tiny text I can’t quite make out saying, “Playing the...”

Side A:  Etched in the vinyl: “rate, was in meiner schastel ist.”  Musically, we are now in more abstract territory than Murmer.  There are several layers of drone; low, floorshaking rumble, a low, metallic whistling sound which evolves and mutates: think of "3000 Light Years From Home."  A low pitched sound which has a trumpeting aspect, morphing into a grainy metallic flake.  Is it trumpeting or a distant pipe organ in an underground cavern.  Or a nightmare in a covered futuristic racetrack.  It ends, but then a slight return: perhaps another motor coming around a dark bend.  This side gives me chills.

Side B:  Etched in the vinyl: “Matin, der erste gesange der voegel.”   Morning, the first bird songs.  The music: Higher-pitched sounds, like bowed metal.  Like some of the best free-improv.  Only about three minutes.  Truly strong work.  Messiaen en metal?

noise dreams machina.   in / out.  Drone DR-90, ice-grey 7” vinyl.

Insert: Sturdy paper, grey one side, black the other, the grey a strikingly beautiful silkscreen of mapped vectors and text giving contact data as well as print: “interstellar washing wachine” as well as thanks for freeware and field recordings.

Side A:  Harsh blast of noise, the MGM lion having a total freakout!  High velocity noise layers fly past your ears, overloaded, grainy textured noise.  Motor-driven drones and grey-sounding crunky meteors pass by  Analog ripple, joined by abstract drone hard to metaphorize.  Water runs down the gurgles spout.  When it’s over you run back to the turntable for another ride through these several climactic zones.

Side B:  A machine becomes a wolf with an a-whoo, with tintinnabulous drone with random telephone pulses.  Drones drop in and out.  Early analog whish and grr and tones.  Pulses throb.  Feels like the drone nephew of Geo. Harrison’s “Electronic Sound” and Morton Subotnick.  Home.

As label proprietor Stefan Knappe closes all his correspondence, “Happy Drones!”  Next feature will cover releases by his Troum moniker.  Meanwhile, you can read more about them here:

(c)2008 - 2016 All contents copyrighted by All contributors maintain individual copyrights for their works.