It was believed to be just an EP. Two instruments, bass and drums, recorded in a room called a "studio," but the recordings on Pathways suggest otherwise. It is not merely an arrangement of sounds between psychedelic loops, grooving pulsations and fleeting pop melodies. It is an attempt to make contact. The observer sat in front of the screen when the first waves reached the network. Instrumental, without the security of human language, they penetrate directly into the lower layers of consciousness. The bass is not just deep; it behaves like that oceanic body one once read about – a living mass that fills the space in which one believes one can hear. The drums do not set the beat; they mark the beating of a foreign heart that begins to beat in time with the rhythm of one's own blood. This is where the confusion arises that every traveller who has gazed into the silence for too long knows: who is the "Unknown Traveller"? The two musicians sending out the signal? Or is it you, reading these lines and feeling the boundary between the listener and the heard eroding? Perhaps we are all just projections of this sound body, which tries to understand itself by using us as a mirror. The file on unknowntraveller.com does not wait passively. It does not just download; it spreads. It is advisable to put on your headphones, not to consume, but to be examined. The music will not explain anything. It will simply be there, like an ocean lapping at the shore, and in the end you will not know whether you heard the music or whether the music heard you. The traveller closes the logbook. The signal is running.

>>unknown traveller