Anadol Vinyl, CD & Tape 7 Items

Cover and vinyl are close to NM.

Hatıralar was Anadol's second album, originally composed between Berlin and Istanbul around 2012 and released years later only in digital form on the Ankara based label Inverted Spectrum. The title Hatıralar ("Memories") turns out to be a self-fulfilling prophecy. Anadol recalled and revisited the music in 2023, gently editing and mixing the compositions for the newly mastered LP format in which they now see the light of day. Hatıralar represents an early version of the melodic, instrumental synth-pop that Anadol refined on her album Uzun Havalar (2019) before exploring the more free, krautrock-inspired musique concrète of her last album Felicita (2021). Here is the text that accompanied the original 2017 release:

Anadol, named after an old-fashioned Turkish automobile brand, is an instrumental synth-pop project by Gözen Atila, an artist, dj and keyboard player. She records with mini organs manufactured during the 70s and 80s, the built-in rhythms and arpeggios of these machines provide the backbone of her sound, and her melodies are influenced by pop music and soundtracks from France, Italy and Turkey from the same period. The music is awash with allusions to the moods of old Turkish and European cinema, from the erotic to the melodramatic, and with a reminiscence of the sound and spirit of so-called "tavern music" popular in Turkey's urban nightlife in the 1980s, a flexible pop style usually performed by a solo keyboardist-singer. Anadol is a continuation of the tradition of lone synth experimentalists like Bruce Haack and The Space Lady with their childlike curiosity for electronic sounds, and of the keyboardists pushing the boundaries of minimal equipment to entertain middle aged drunk couples in pubs and wedding parties of Istanbul.

Anadol is a psychedelic synth folk project by Gözen Atila, a Turkish sound artist and photographer based in Berlin. Her third album Uzun Havalar is based on collective improvisations of middle eastern folk songs called „uzun hava“. They turn out as rich, atmospheric synth ballads. A diverse roster of improvising musicians creates their fascinating complexity. Anadol recorded them during extensive sessions in Istanbul. You can hear drummers laughing and playing guitars, composers howling, announcements in French and screams in no language, record collectors playing oscillators, and trumpets through spacious echoes. Anadol represents Gözen Atila’s liberation from a rather academic approach to electronic composition which she pursued during her music technology studies in Istanbul. She calls her education the „darkness of serious music“ where she first tried to belong, then to break free with the help of lo-fi synth pop. As a producer of radio plays and an expert field recording artist she has developed a distinct sense of timing, editing and sound design. Her Anadol project walks in the footsteps of lone synth experimentalists like Bruce Haack and The Space Lady with their childlike curiosity for electronic sounds, pushing the boundaries of minimal equipment. On Uzun Havalar she translates her experimental background into these floating folk ballads. The album was originally released on tape via Kinship in 2018.

“Whether it is traditional or contemporary, we need to be authentic,” says Gözen Atila who performs as Anadol. “I don't claim that I am authentic, but this is what I want to achieve.”

A sense of authentic exploration, introspection and celebration coats every inch of Anadol’s latest album. After 2019’s Uzun Havalar, the Turkish artist returns with an album that continues to explore a variety of deeply embedded musical traditions while also hurtling into new terrain.

The music and influences - as well as the history, culture and geography behind them - that make up Atila as an artist all coalesce to create something entirely new. The result is something that is simultaneously exploring history and tradition, while harnessing innovative modern sounds and techniques. “If there is any tradition I am somehow connected to, or influenced by, then it’s multi- genres,” she says. “Such as Turkish Pop and Arabesk music from this country where I grew up. There is a connection to Folk and also French pop or Flamenco, Middle Eastern melodies and orchestration, Greek adaptations, Kenny G. solos, American guitars.”

This can be heard on Felicita, not in as much as you can link up the influences directly but in the way it glides across genres, eschewing convention and predictability along the way, to result in a kaleidoscopic experience. For the album, Atila found a talented roster of Jazz musicians in Istanbul who she recorded on top of her synth productions and field recordings. Soon enough saxophone, drums and strings began to stack up against preset drum loops from vintage organs. It’s a record where woozy psychedelic excursions bleed into dreamy synth lines, immersive ambience and the occasionally disconcerting yet incredibly tactile use of field recordings.

If it’s an album that feels like it travels through a variety of feelings, then it’s because the concept is loosely rooted in such a journey. Felicita translates as “happiness” and this album is something that explores the complexities of such an emotion. “I did not name the album like this because I just wanted to call it happiness,” Atila says. “A song like ‘Felicita Lale’ is a sad and confused song about a female character who can't get out of bed. It’s a funny rumination, in her thoughts, saying to get up and lie down repeatedly. At some point the lyrics say: "hep agla, felicita", meaning: "Cry all the time, Felicita". Like she is talking to happiness itself and telling it to cry. So it is not about happiness, it is more about the concept of happiness which can be very sad.”

Anadol is a psychedelic synth folk project by Gözen Atila, a Turkish sound artist and photographer based in Berlin. Her third album Uzun Havalar is based on collective improvisations of middle eastern folk songs called „uzun hava“. They turn out as rich, atmospheric synth ballads. A diverse roster of improvising musicians creates their fascinating complexity. Anadol recorded them during extensive sessions in Istanbul. You can hear drummers laughing and playing guitars, composers howling, announcements in French and screams in no language, record collectors playing oscillators, and trumpets through spacious echoes. Anadol represents Gözen Atila’s liberation from a rather academic approach to electronic composition which she pursued during her music technology studies in Istanbul. She calls her education the „darkness of serious music“ where she first tried to belong, then to break free with the help of lo-fi synth pop. As a producer of radio plays and an expert field recording artist she has developed a distinct sense of timing, editing and sound design. Her Anadol project walks in the footsteps of lone synth experimentalists like Bruce Haack and The Space Lady with their childlike curiosity for electronic sounds, pushing the boundaries of minimal equipment. On Uzun Havalar she translates her experimental background into these floating folk ballads. The album was originally released on tape via Kinship in 2018.

“Whether it is traditional or contemporary, we need to be authentic,” says Gözen Atila who performs as Anadol. “I don't claim that I am authentic, but this is what I want to achieve.”

A sense of authentic exploration, introspection and celebration coats every inch of Anadol’s latest album. After 2019’s Uzun Havalar, the Turkish artist returns with an album that continues to explore a variety of deeply embedded musical traditions while also hurtling into new terrain.

The music and influences - as well as the history, culture and geography behind them - that make up Atila as an artist all coalesce to create something entirely new. The result is something that is simultaneously exploring history and tradition, while harnessing innovative modern sounds and techniques. “If there is any tradition I am somehow connected to, or influenced by, then it’s multi- genres,” she says. “Such as Turkish Pop and Arabesk music from this country where I grew up. There is a connection to Folk and also French pop or Flamenco, Middle Eastern melodies and orchestration, Greek adaptations, Kenny G. solos, American guitars.”

This can be heard on Felicita, not in as much as you can link up the influences directly but in the way it glides across genres, eschewing convention and predictability along the way, to result in a kaleidoscopic experience. For the album, Atila found a talented roster of Jazz musicians in Istanbul who she recorded on top of her synth productions and field recordings. Soon enough saxophone, drums and strings began to stack up against preset drum loops from vintage organs. It’s a record where woozy psychedelic excursions bleed into dreamy synth lines, immersive ambience and the occasionally disconcerting yet incredibly tactile use of field recordings.

If it’s an album that feels like it travels through a variety of feelings, then it’s because the concept is loosely rooted in such a journey. Felicita translates as “happiness” and this album is something that explores the complexities of such an emotion. “I did not name the album like this because I just wanted to call it happiness,” Atila says. “A song like ‘Felicita Lale’ is a sad and confused song about a female character who can't get out of bed. It’s a funny rumination, in her thoughts, saying to get up and lie down repeatedly. At some point the lyrics say: "hep agla, felicita", meaning: "Cry all the time, Felicita". Like she is talking to happiness itself and telling it to cry. So it is not about happiness, it is more about the concept of happiness which can be very sad.”