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Prismadoll is more of an alchemist than a musician. Scouring bargain CD bins in bookstores and flea markets, she mines the reflective surfaces of discs for their atmospheric ore - the molten flow of new-age strings, the geode gleam of a post grunge bridge - and subjects these extractions to strange experiments. Her Soundcloud feed acts as a virtual logbook, taming sketches and scrawl into waveform compounds of elements.
Her latest entry, “Trusty”, details the production of frisson in its purest state. Looped pad synths bruise the surface of a couple stuttered bars worth of “The Rebels” by The Cranberries while a second singer’s wordless melody is peeled from the surface like an old Band-Aid slicked in pus and coagulation. It is the intersection where earworms cross their slimy paths; the meeting of remembered (yet misheard) verses.
In an alternate universe not far removed from ours, Prismadoll headlines a summer festival alongside Sinead O’Connor and The Smashing Pumpkins. The candyfloss sunset makes for a perfect shoegaze record cover.
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“The real is produced from miniaturized units, from matrices, memory banks and command models - and with these it can be reproduced an indefinite number of times” - Jean Baudrillard
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