Conna Haraway

(This article’s English version was produced with AI-assisted translation)

The reductionism that once defined the electronic scene between the 2000s and the 2010s is now little more than a faded memory. Conna Haraway stands as a witness to this shift: maybe we grew tired of that essentialist flair, or maybe computers became so cheap compared to their computational power that they unlocked access to a vast array of software and plugins—rendering obsolete what was once both an aesthetic and a necessity tied to limited hardware. Today, maximalism may well be the new interface, and "Spatial Fix", the second release by Glasgow-based producer and INDEX: Records co-founder Conna Haraway, is its paradigm.

Curiously, however, this work wasn’t released on INDEX:, nor was his debut, "Lusidiq", a ghostly artifact suspended between ambient-dub and rarefied IDM, in line with the latest undercurrents of the electronic underground. Both works were released by Australian label Theory Therapy, already known to connoisseurs for records by Usof and Conclave Reflections. Haraway, though, sets himself apart from these names, embracing a meticulous approach to sound design—of an almost algorithmic clarity—far removed from the DIY ethos of other shamans of the new electronic wave. Still ambient-dub, yes, but based on completely different coordinates from Uon's muddy drift or Pontiac Streator’s leaden dreaminess. Here, glitch music becomes a lucid report of a system crash, the bugs of one's personal software absorbed and rewritten within a natural backdrop reimagined as a digital ecosystem.

The approach on "Spatial Fix" is both tactile ("Freon") and abstract ("Switchback"), with downtempo rhythms that carry the legacy of a noble '90s tradition—somewhere between illbient and instrumental hip-hop—set within a hypnotic sonic flow that occasionally veers into shoegaze. A wall-of-sound integrates seamlessly with both pulse and nature-inspired incursions: the murmur of a stream, the quantized chirping of synthetic birds, set against rhythm bombs verging on UK bass. If we’re being nitpicky, the sound fabric may be so dense as to feel labyrinthine at times: Haraway’s architecture is fascinating, but occasionally one gets the sense that the listener’s emotional RAM is being stress-tested. Still, nothing truly compromising. In just four tracks, the album becomes inhabitable, and in its complexity it invites multiple listening sessions—like a source code to be reread each time with new eyes.

05/06/2025