»Shimmering, shape-shifting micro-melodies seem to emerge mirage-like from the metallic and bowled percussion’s blurred overtones, though there are a handful of more fleshed-out pieces: stiff-backed organ-fuelled stepper »Animal Gathering« comes over like Alex Reece by way of Werkbund (!), and »Second Abandoned Highway« is disarmingly pretty cyborg-gamelan-pop, replete with lugubrious lost-boy vox. But it’s the bleak, monotone drum-spells like »Prospector Left« and »Tzama as Animal« that prove most rewarding: this is the kinda flinty, organic broken techno / dessicated downer dancehall that me most feverish dreams are made of - listening to 'em for the first time feels, strangely, like a sort of homecoming.« – Low Company, 2021

World of Echo unites with the confounding genius of TRii for a highly limited, first-time vinyl run of 2020's »Music For Desert Reboot« tape, first released as TRj on the TRjj Musik label and then again as a second cassette by Mascarpone earlier this year. As with all the sounds produced within the TRjj/TRii /TRj/TRi universe, strange illusion is part of the process, and this is certainly music that befits such smoke and mirror nomenclature, a kind of gamelan Werkbund re-programmed via the isolationist sounds of DIY home electronics conceived for a film that might or might not actually exist. Consider this time-dilation rug-pulling that's well in touch with its own mythology, so much so that it's hard to think of any obvious contemporaries, but if you've ever enjoyed the minimalist murk of Civlistijavel, the private quarters confessionals of Thomas Bush's first LP or any one of Guy Gormley's projects, you'll not got too far wrong here. Is further clarification required? That perhaps misses the point, though there is a track that features around two-thirds in entitled »First Time Realizing the Clock Was Absent« that might function as a form of instruction to the listener. Namely, where does the time go? »Music For Desert Reboot« might not provide the answer, but it certainly knows how to ask the question.

Remastered for vinyl by Jose Guerrero at La Plataforma Continental.