photo by Alex Broadwell

As droplets of data rain from the Cloud, Alex Drewchin embeds another digital seed into the soil and watches the vines unfold according to their own feral algorithms. RIP Chrysalis is her second full-length album under the Eartheater moniker released on Hausu Mountain in the year 2015, following the acclaimed Metalepsis. With her experiments as a founding member of the avant-psych duo Guardian Alien illuminating a parallel path through deep inner space, we witness Drewchin transmute her concrete experiences into another harvest that expands in all directions at once. As her productions diversify into new realms of fine-grain electronic experimentation, Drewchin simultaneously steps closer to some semblance of humanity. At any given moment, an Eartheater composition reads somewhere between a folk song, a musique concrète collage, and a filmic suite fit to soundtrack a multiversal montage that only Drewchin can imagine in full detail.

Purchase RIP Chrysalis or Metalepsis in our e-shoppe.

Find Eartheater on her personal website, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram.

Check out music videos for “Put A Head In A Head” (directed by Sofi Mooncotten) “MacroEV” (directed by Amia Yokoyama) “Infinity” (directed by Alexandra Drewchin) and “Bird’s Eye” (featuring Adrian Grenier).

In November 2014, Drewchin appeared in performances of The Fool, a chamber opera by Raúl De Nieves and Colin Self at Issue Project Room. Check out a review in ArtNews.

Praise for Eartheater

” She’s upending the conventions of folk and ambient music—taking little excursions into harsher realms, just for good measure—gracefully crossing stereotypical divides between genres without even really letting you notice that she’s done so. It’s a sort of sonic jamais vu: All of the ingredients feel familiar, but the whole that they eventually make up remains alien and unattainable.” – Pitchfork

“For a concentrated shot of what makes Metalepsis such an exciting record look no further that the two-minute headrush of “Youniverse.” Over a circular guitar riff Drewchin’s chants stretch like taffy. Drum’s build, anticipating some sort of rock climax that never comes. Rather, it stumbles off into ambient synth murmurs before melting into a blow out field recording of some people rapping, before Drewchin reenters for a few seconds plinking her guitar for a lovely coda.” – FACT

“Skittering and folding in on itself, the song devours elements of electronic pop, psych folk, and drone and synthesizes them into a warbling space lullaby. All tethered to Drewchin’s dreamy voice and a crisp guitar melody, all cosmos and folktale and human machine.” – IMPOSE

“Drewchin traces a sonic spell of post-internet consciousness-phasing with deeply earworming android folk and tesserect loops that makes all the right connections.” – Tiny Mix Tapes

“the track combines layers of pizzicato strings with almost-animal sounds that she achieved by elongating her body.” – The Fader

“Mechanical tablas guide and format Drewchin’s complex melodies which swoop through processed alien harmonies in iridescent laptop reverb. Best of all, unlike many vocalists in experimental pop who drench themselves in wafting cavernous murk, Drewchin’s lyrics are mostly audible and this is good because they are outstanding. Dense, provocative, and transcendent, they anchor the foggy melodic whimsey and thread it into a warm electric tapestry.” – Ad Hoc

“The synths are drowning in reverb and the vocals are nearly unintelligible, and the demented atmosphere it conjures pairs nicely with the images of naked bodies melting in weed.” – VICE

photo by Elise Gallant

 

photo by Alex Broadwell

photo by Sigrid Lauren