Stefan Goldmann's "Alluvium" is a deep dive into the arcane art of metric asymmetry, a brave venture where machine rhythms defy conventional binary patterns to weave intricate, multidimensional sonic tapestries. Released by Macro, this album is the third installment in Goldmann’s exploration of irregular meters, following the groundwork laid by "Veiki" (2019) and the grid-bending experiments of "Vector Rituals" (2022).

From the opening track "Axios," it’s clear that Goldmann is not here to play by the rules. Instead, he opts for a complex interplay of rhythms that might leave traditional dancers scratching their heads and mathematicians tapping their feet. The album’s modus operandi is the simultaneous run of non-binary patterns—imagine 11, 7, and 5 beats per measure intersecting in a single piece, each creating its own axis of rhythm. It’s a wonderland of jagged polyrhythmic magic, each track an iridescent edifice of multidimensional time.

"Alluvium" isn't just a collection of tracks; it’s a philosophical inquiry into the nature of time and rhythm. Goldmann’s compositions feel like a commentary on the fluidity of time itself — non-linear, often chaotic, yet somehow creating a coherent whole. In tracks like "Helicon" (my favourite moment of this awesome album) and "Yantra", the beats meander and converge, reminiscent of rivers splitting and rejoining in a delta, each bringing a different sediment of sound. This imagery is not just poetic; it's embedded in the music's DNA. Goldmann’s rhythms are like geological layers, each telling a story of time, erosion, and deposition.

If you’re seeking comparisons, think of Goldmann as a kindred spirit to the likes of Autechre or Squarepusher, but with a distinct focus on the asymmetrical. Where Autechre's work might feel like alien languages decoded, Goldmann’s "Alluvium" feels like ancient scripts — equally complex, but with a grounding in the natural and the historical. There’s also a hint of Steve Reich’s phasing techniques, but applied to electronic textures and fractured beats rather than minimalist patterns. Each track is a testament to the idea that electronic music can be as intellectually stimulating as it is sonically captivating.

Let’s be honest: "Alluvium" demands your full attention (and possibly a background in advanced mathematics or computer sciences!). This is music that challenges the listener, asking them to abandon the comfort of 4/4 time and embrace the beautiful chaos of asymmetry. Yet, for those willing to take the plunge, it offers rich rewards. Tracks like "Scylax" and "Drilon" are perfect examples of how complexity can yield unexpected beauty, while "Struma" and "Ropotamo" showcase Goldmann’s ability to create hypnotic grooves from irregular foundations.

There’s a certain irony in the fact that Goldmann uses machines to create rhythms that are inherently human in their imperfection. While the world of electronic music often strives for precision and uniformity, "Alluvium" celebrates the unpredictable and the irregular. It’s a thoughtful reflection on how technology can be used to mirror the complexities of the natural world. Goldmann’s work here is a reminder that machines, in the right hands, can produce art that resonates with the same depth and nuance as any human performance.

"Alluvium" is a bold statement in the landscape of electronic music, a masterclass in how to subvert expectations and push the boundaries of what rhythm can be. Stefan Goldmann has crafted an album that is as intellectually rigorous as it is sonically adventurous, a testament to his ongoing exploration of the "first principles" of metric asymmetry. It’s not an easy listen, but then again, the best art rarely is. For those willing to engage with its complexities, "Alluvium" offers a deeply rewarding experience—an alluvial deposit of sonic gold.