To many people the concept of Ruin is fearful, depressing, dark - conjuring notions of decay, fallen morality, or tragedy. But to others, the idea of Ruin is of hope for what may come after - opportunities to rebuild, rethink and challenge. Ruin may be the only chance to stop the passive march towards the destruction of the feral human spirit, the failure of our imagination to the homogenising power of capital. Both the music and the artwork reflect the artists long-held view that art should challenge, jarr and provoke. Offering the balance of what’s dark and disturbing to appreciate beauty and the light. Rejecting a world where the uncomfortable is covered up with plastic veneer and platitudes as a vital artistic expression.
Using a highly personalised setup of hardware collected over many years, Prequel Tapes wanders through concrete mazes and dark forests with infinite curiosity. In these cold empty spaces, Ruin oscillates freely between sunshine and shadows, where grit and gravel pay homage to the industrial anti-melodies of the 80s, appearing as earworms after the rain. The sonic DNA of teenage dreams are central to the aesthetic aspirations of Ruin, as are the sparse minimalist frameworks of composers like Arvo Pärt.
Drawing upon the stains of his musical history, Prequel Tapes merges each drop into an honest, singular sound, honing in on decades of love for abstract electronics with a profound emotional sensitivity. References may reveal themselves on close listen, but never command space, serving instead as subtle threads woven carefully into a tapestry of synthesis; aware of its past but firmly grounded in the present.