PRICE: $17.00
01 06 :30
02 07 :10
03 07 :59
04 07 :01
05 09 :01
06 06 :24
07 08 :08
08 08 :33
09 10 :07
10 05 :25


This is the debut album from Frankfurt's Reboot aka Frank Heinrich. The term shunyata comes from Buddhism and translates loosely as "emptiness." But not just in the negative sense: it speaks also to impermanence, a state of constant flux. It's a great description of Reboot's music, where everything is in constant and kaleidoscopic motion. From the sound designs to the grooves to the way the tracks evolve, they all interconnect; intricate polyrhythms wind through the music like ivy, binding the album together. It's those rhythms you're likely to notice first: dazzling arrays of congas, bells, cymbals, shakers, woodblocks; sounds like tuned water-drops or aluminum barrels; steely drum machines slicing the air like knives. But behind the layers of percussion there are stranger, shadowier elements at work: chimes, pings, electronic gurgles, scraps of faraway voices, field recordings, and beneath it all, a spongy, squishy bed of bass, comforting and all-encompassing. Heinrich's modular synthesizer system plays a key role in fashioning the music's unusual contours. It's an open-ended collection of devices -- oscillators, filters, sequencers and esoteric functions -- wired together and able to be re-routed in infinite ways. There are no presets. Shunyata's long, undulating lines and morphological structures reward deep, repeated listening. There's the headlong tumble of the Detroit-inspired "Hermano" for joyous peaktime moments, the liquid spiral of "Down Pantha" for the hours where time stands still. "Rambon," with its easy skip and glimmering melody, is like springtime on wax. Tracks like "We Only Just," "Me Show" and "Save Me" offer darker vibes, heads-down and hypnotic. "Dreilach" goes even deeper, with a rippling bass melody that gets deep inside your chest, your brain, your veins. The title track seems to spin at two velocities at once, balancing a driving, linear groove with half-speed voices to create a sense of suspended animation -- the perfect encapsulation of the album's central theme. And "Uruana" and "Sanchez Says" bracket the album with percussive forays into far-out terrain, with trace elements of global folk sounds. It's tribal music, no doubt, influenced by, and made for, a worldwide family of listeners and fellow creators.