TURMANATOR TRANCE! Nerve-damaged, hallucinatory zoners non pareil...Robert Turman’s Flux is back in print on eat-yer-dinner-off-it 2LP and as mesmerising, whacked-out and unsettling as ever. Fuck me, it’s so good. I have no idea where RT’s head was at when he made this, but it feels like a vision of minimalism as mental illness, ambient as analogue for numbness and despond. It was his first solo release, and marked a conscious turn away from the nihilistic industrial muse he’d pursued in his previous work with NON, Z.O. Voider and others. But its meditative, measured, often breathtakingly pretty long-form pieces - each one “a complex bed of interweaving micro-stasis” made with simple configurations of tape-loops, piano, kalimba and Mini Pops Jr drum machine – have a scarred, PTSD feel, their gently eddying currents of sound suggestive of all kinds of suppressed nastiness. But hey that’s just me! Maybe the guy was genuinely jus' relaxing. It’s hard to think of many comparable records, but there’s an unmistakeable Satie influence in the gently climbing piano motifs, and elsewhere the smeared pastorals of Andrew Chalk and Vikki Jackman come to mind, but the zombie andante / zen-techno pulsations of its second half are of another planet entirely. All-timer.