Bengaluru based musician Space Hydra has always made electronic music. Exploring themes of dystopia, socio-political undercurrents and cosmic wonder, he blends brooding synths, cinematic atmospheres and music that places a strong emphasis on the bass. His real name is Krishnajit Bhattacharyya.
Space Hydra’s music is immersive and introspective, and as an artist he does a tremendous job infusing socially conscious storytelling with transcendental sound. Listening to him feels a bit like floating through some sort of desolate satellite cemetery. It is a bit like a time warped dimension: a mix of analogue nostalgia and digital anxiety swirling together in slow motion, perhaps India’s underground electronic scene meeting the infinite quest of outer space.
There is beauty in the music, surely, but it is the sort that lingers in your mouth after having something burnt. Bhattacharyya says that the goal behind creating Code Control, was for it to act as a meditation in autonomy, contrasting submission and resistance in the age of automation. The EP dives into two antagonistic intensities – the security and seduction of systems that promise order, and the quiet flickering desire to break free.
The journey is brief, the EP lasts only 17 minutes and comprises four songs. The first track, Ascent, acts as an instrumental opener to the EP essentially talking about the psyche of the screen era. It ferrets into the concept of alternate realities, using dual synthesizer melodies and a central motorik, creating a hypnotic, almost mechanical feel.
The lead single, Data Thief, in collaboration with Yuhina and air.floe is majestic. The vocals are captivating, and the song blends retro- futuristic sounds into a gritty soundscape. The song opens with an eerie synth like sound that draws the listener into the alarming thought that one’s thoughts may not be our own, but fed into us by invisible systems that we cannot even understand.
Yuhina’s vocals are ethereal. Her voice is grounded but breathtaking and the lyrics delve into themes of borrowed identities and emotional dissonance. The chorus, Pretence/ Clone/ Fear/ Of the Unknown really crawls into the listener’s skin.
Nice to Be in Orbit, acts as the emotional release of the EP. It does start in doom and gloom but then comes a point of shimmering bass and synthesiser oriented lift-off, a glorious take-off point, possibly meant to be the moment of clarity when we acknowledge the problem (deactivating our accounts?). The song also comprises bits of guitar towards the end.
The final track on the EP, Data Thief (Instrumental Mix), acts as a reprise of the single, a reminder that we are perhaps always bound to the internet. When we work, we work on our laptops, when we watch a film it is on television and when we take relationship advice it is often from a 30 second instagram reel with trendy music on in the background.
The EP is alternative electronic but peppered with rock, with a mild teaspoon of synth pop as well. It is a good mix. You hear distorted textured and ambient layers with low-end heavy grooves. The sound reflects the idea of being part machine and part human.
It does make you think – we live in a world that is taken over by algorithms and code. Dare I say it could be AI writing this article and there is a decent chance that the reader wouldn’t find out. The EP explores the emotional cost of the shift that this is taking as human beings. It was written last year when Bhattacharya was going through a hard time and the omnipresent digital noise that most of humankind lives in acts as the emotional core of these songs. The terrifying vulnerability of making this music is worth it, and so so brilliant.
