"There’s never been a better way to go off the clock" – Best field recordings on Bandcamp, June 2026"
“a temporally profound release from the Flaming Pines imprint" – Electronic Sound Magazine, July 2026
After six minutes, time flips into reverse. The sounds of Ramsgate start running backwards. Cackles of seagulls are sucked back into tiny throats, while the distant yelps of school playtime turn giddy and abrupt, doubtless punctuating games of backward hopscotch. Central to the piece is the steady tick of the steam-age turret clock at St George’s Church, which was installed almost two centuries ago. When ticking runs forward, it seems to gift a divine guarantee to the formidable flow of time; an assurance that, amidst the throes of an increasingly erratic and precarious world, our reality is bedrocked by a fundamental metronomic consistency. The beat of the clock sounds like a metallic dripping in its forward iteration yet transforms into the sweep of an ultra-sharp knife when flipped into reverse. When the clock switches direction, the last six minutes are methodically undone. Invisible hands scramble to unravel the links of causation, excising the recent ripples of change, putting everything back as it was just six minutes prior. That moment of transition is pure whiplash, like being dragged backward through water – limbs and organs jolted, inner ears swept momentarily out of calibration.
