300 copies limited edition A siren sounds. Is it the keel coming to free the worker from her harsh task? Or the call of an iron whale inviting us to set sail for the depths? End of work, beginning of the dream: the grooves here will not be the fruit of plowing but moving reliefs to be explored. Because if there is indeed a paradoxical guide capable of activating the levers of such a liberation of esgourdes, by playing at will with the effects of sliding between the concrete and the abstract, the near and the far, the repetition and the accident, it could only be Guilhem All. Instinctive turntable player, agile electronics engineer of hazards, his process is simple: leaning over small turntables where discs he found, composed, crushed or bandaged are spinning, he weaves and interlaces the flesh cables sheathed in vinyl capable of leading us to hypnagogic trance. Guilhem never imposes anything: he suggests. So the description to follow is itself only a suggestion.

The path seems to open onto a techno-parmesan which, modulating the heights, places the listener in the position of a speleologist from the distant interior. Harnesses, carabiners and lanterns are ours: the turntable takes us down to the heart of our vestibule. Sliding on the viscous walls of the cochlean snail, we capture the echoes of a godless party which takes place in the folds and tucks of our meat. But a breath coming from nowhere suddenly extinguishes the wick. The dark happens, the place of a strange iteration. In a gaseous and vibrating silence, we witness the dancing appearance of Groove, in the form of an unsituable zither. Its seduction is subtle in a series of metallic waves which courteously invite us to let go, to abandon all repressive control, in order to go deeper in the experimentation of our auditory reverie powers.

Groove is everywhere at Guilhem All: not like an injunction, but like a Proteus with a thousand faces. Then the repetition turns without us noticing it, into an industrial twist where the pleasure of the finger is the only master on board, before the great white wave spreads out from which our radicalities can drink.