Coral Club

Coral Club

Follow The Mirage

Not Not Fun

The latest by Alexander Sirenko’s omnidirectional Coral Club alias traces his bedroom 4th world architectures onto more iridescent terrain. Follow The Mirage weaves between states of bliss and illusion, tranquility and transience, reveling in its own unraveling. Synths and synthetic percussion congeal and dissolve and ebb and flow in sideways tidal surges of waves, wind, clouds, and crystals. Silver currents crest into dizzying mallet latticework. Tribalist marches fray into woozy cosmic undertow. If motion is color, a mirage is a rainbow – to be savored, favored, and followed.

Coral Club

Turn To

Not Not Fun

Alexander Sirenko’s second odyssey as Coral Club, Turn To, centers on transformative synesthetic childhood experiences retriggered in meditation. Although composed using a similar Groovebox / Electribe / FX rig as his NNF debut, Nowhere Island, the album’s nine tracks skew looser and more levitational, lost in cloud currents of color, memory, and solar fantasy. Hazy keys loop and climb to shimmering heights, lifted by churning synthetic rhythms, equal parts 4th world futurism and past life ascension mantra. Sirenko speaks of these pieces as “journeys through inner worlds,” distilled across two years of patient creation. Visions turned to sound, reveries to rainbows – this is music of the senses and the spheres, approaching rare summits of celestial convergence.

Coral Club

Nowhere Island

Not Not Fun

Moscow electribalist Alexander Sirenko birthed Coral Club in 2016 but the bulk of his debut didn't emerge until 2019, in the wake of a particularly “depressive winter” when the solar thaw of spring struck “like a lifeboat.” Long forest walks sparked a multi-sensory reawakening of rainbow electronics, spiral melody, field recordings, and FX, wondrous but wobbly, like rhythms roused from heavy hibernation, blinking in the beautiful glare. Tracked live in lengthy improvisational sessions, Nowhere Island's nine swirling songs span a spectrum of ecosystems and energies, from dense mystic rainforest to glittering psychedelic tide pools to dusk coastlines dotted with distant fires. In places the album evokes an explorer's audiobook, questing into alien terrain with multi-directional microphones, but elsewhere Sirenko scrambles any illusion, reveling in surges of tape hiss and synthetic noise, possessed by the joyous catharsis of burning maps to places that don't exist.