Trees Speak return with TimeFold, their sixth release on Soul Jazz Records, further expanding their ever-evolving sonic universe. This new album builds on their signature blend of hypnotic krautrock rhythms, post-punk angularity, and experimental soundscapes while venturing into new terrain by blending influences from avant-garde electronics to ceremonial sound forms.
On TimeFold, Trees Speak (comprised of the Tucson-based duo Damian Diaz and Daniel Martin Diaz) push their musical boundaries from expansive, intergalactic landscapes to eerie, imagined 1970s Italian and French sci-fi horror film scores. The album seamlessly weaves John Carpenter-esque synthesizer motifs with ambient sound sculptures, conjuring immersive worlds that are both cinematic and otherworldly.
The album also incorporates the duo’s deep-rooted influences, which span across electronic pioneers like Jean-Michel Jarre (Oxygene), Tangerine Dream, and Karlheinz Stockhausen. Drawing on the revolutionary techniques of Musique Concrète, TimeFold features experimental track splicing, looping, and collage work that harkens back to the golden age of avant-garde music. At times, the album channels the ceremonial tones and hypnotic rhythms reminiscent of early 1970s krautrock, fusing these sounds with organic instrumentation like dulcimers, adding an earthy, drone-like ritual quality to the experimental electronic framework.
A new element in this release is the inclusion of spoken word by Ashley Christine Edwards, which lends the album a haunting, apocalyptic edge. Her contributions evoke a tone reminiscent of the 1970s avant-garde scene, recalling literary and conceptual artists like Ruth White. The spoken words create a sensory experience akin to ceremonial chants, adding to the atmospheric intensity of the album. These vocal elements tie into the overall theme of TimeFold, which continues Trees Speak’s exploration of futuristic technologies and the communication of nature, with the evocative concept of trees and plants acting as organic hard drives storing data and knowledge.
Drawing further influence from Italian and French horror cinema, Trees Speak explore cinematic tension throughout TimeFold, creating a layered listening experience. The record transports the listener from the haunting, desolate beauty of Southwestern desert vast landscapes to an auditory space that melds early electronic experimentation with the contemporary urgency of conceptual art.
Since their debut Ohms in 2020, Trees Speak’s prolific output on Soul Jazz Records has continually redefined genre boundaries. TimeFold solidifies their position as visionaries in experimental music, offering an album that is as much a meditation on future technologies as it is a tribute to the avant-garde traditions that have come before.
REVIEWS
'Feels like an epic, demonstrating the Diaz brothers' capacity for suggesting scale while resisting the temptation to sprawl.' The Wire
“Trees Speak’s soundworld is ever-changing, often terrifying, but rarely short of awe-inspiring" ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ Mojo January 2025
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"Daniel Martin Diaz and Damian Diaz, are clearly connoisseurs of vintage krautrock and analogue synthtronica, they also cite Stockhausen, Satie, John Cage and Klaus Schulze. "It's about how they treated sound," says Daniel, "like sculptors shaping something out of nothing."
The latest Trees Speak album, TimeFold, is the first to feature spoken-word artist Ashley Christine Edwards. "She brings a fearless, experimental edge that pushes us in new directions, especially live," Damian explains. "Her openness to explore any idea, no matter how out there, has been important for us."
The album also boasts a typically gorgeous sci-fi sleeve designed by Daniel, who has a side career as a visual artist. The graphics, he says, are as essential as the music. "We obsess over every detail: the fonts, the subject matter, even the empty space."
With Daniel still based in Tucson and Damian now settled in Brooklyn, Trees Speak insist both locations have subliminally shaped their music. "The desert definitely seeps into our sound," says Daniel. "The vast open spaces, the quiet, stretching moments. But there's also an undercurrent of tension, a sense of something hidden beneath the surface.” Uncut