Mike Sugarman (a man of many names, and just a few pairs of shades) has melted the veils of many-a-reality across America's finest basements, bar-rooms, and crawl-spaces with his inimitable time-defying brand of computer-fusion. Sugarman's experiments veer between oscillations of transcendence and meditations on disorientation, cracking open mindbrains across his current whereabouts of Chicago with the veritable bedlam of his live sets, as well as in lysergic collaborations with some of the windy-city's headiest Central Time Zoners (UTC-5:00).
Equally footed in his lineage from Xenakis as he is from The Residents, Sugarman helms a ship of mycelial colonialists thru Escher landscapes of perception and the woozy haze of internet runoff from the Great Galactic Garbage Patch. 'Only Hidden Once' finds Sugarman solidifying his third-stage evolution form (Sugarman>Sugarm>Sug), and carving a worm-hole through the megalith of consciousness via brute algorithmic confusion and dilated drones.
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“With Julius, he was based in repetition, but here was a spirit of openness and improvisation. His scores, if they were written out that way, were often like jazz scores. He loved multiplying instruments – four pianos, ten cellos – so there was a real feeling of the presence of the instrument, not just using an instrument in some kind of equation, as a means to an end.” ~ Mary Jane Leach
Enough said. pt