First off open your ears and eyes since this small label in just a bunch of releases it's been able to show they've good taste and this new release is nothing but the confirmation of what I’ve just wrote. I mean, this the first time I hear Whispers and Wolves but this girl name is already written in my agenda for she managed to put out an unconventional and audacious release. This "Language of dards" despite its laptop quintessence has been assembled with several acoustic instruments, for example in the first of the three movements of which this work is composed you can clearly distinguish some vocals and an acoustic guitar flying over a confused odd magma. The second suite is much more drone oriented and both the instrument and the voice are drowning in the pool of sounds. While during the first track you happen to think the music is just odd, its psychedelic nature comes slowly to the surface during the listening, infact I could locate this "Language of dards" in a equidistant point situated on the distance dividing Diamanda Galas from Yoko Ono. You may think the last of the two comparisons suck? Don't come to an easy conclusion, at last it was the japanese wife of Mr. Lennon that nourished Reich and a bunch of avantguardist that played in her loft. The last and closing chapter of this weird release presents a softer and more relaxed suite where the vocals are echoing in the scenario, but despite the overabundance of delays the situation is way less magmatic if compared to the first two episodes, here the loops and the sounds selected reminded me some early experimental post industrial artists like Asmus Tietchens or Nurse With Wound when working on more abstract composition and far from their heaviest episodes, the only considerable difference is due to that monochord female voice haunting the stage like a ghost. As you've read the global effect is really odd but this girl definitely catched my attention, and confirmed what Berio was thinking about many contemporary U.S. musicians, that their production present the portrait of music written in what could be a solitary confinement, it was probably true when Berio was still alive but now is even more tangible than before.