| This EP and its title track take their name from ‘Enemy of the Sun’ by Palestinian poet Samih al-Qasim, first published in 1970. The fact that it is perhaps even more relevant today makes it easy to be despondent, but reading poets like al-Qasim and June Jordan can at least offer some moral clarity and a direction of travel. In Andrei Tarkovsky’s ‘Nostalghia,’ the character Domenico is trying to carry a lit candle across the length of a mineral pool without the wind blowing it out, believing that if he can make it, the world will be saved. The task seems almost impossible, but sometimes persistence is the only available option. The album features a compelling selection of remixes by kindred spirits in the underground electronic scene. Kris Baha, SIIE, Unconscious, JG Outsider, and A State of Flux each bring a unique lens to Decrow’s original tracks, reshaping them into hypnotic, club-ready incarnations that pulse with fresh intensity. Complementing the reworks are three brand new compositions that showcase Decrow’s continued growth as a producer and sonic storyteller. These tracks expand his signature sound – deeply atmospheric, rhythmically intricate, and emotionally charged – proving that his restless imagination knows no bounds. “ACMÉ” is an exploration of introspection, delving into the universal pursuit of balance and intensity that defines different moments in our lives. With French lyrics, it captures the fleeting instant when everything aligns—not as something that fades, but as a pulse that continues to echo, shaping what comes next. The main thread that weaves through this album is the idea of the physical, of being present and being embodied, of culture as experienced through physical objects like photographs, books, clothing, and through physical activity like dancing. We are all bodies in motion, expressive, attracted, compelled, seduced, and sometimes, betrayed. Meanwhile the digital realm, once seductive, is now degrading into something that feels like a betrayal, a casualty of financial interests and individual egos. The album takes its name from a collection of essays by Elizabeth Hardwick looking at women and literature, and the effects their personal relationships have on them as authors, as characters, or as literary inspirations. Also, one track, ‘George Eliot’s Husband,’ takes its name from a separate essay by Hardwick where she somewhat idealises a literary romantic relationship, in contrast to those in Seduction and Betrayal and to her own marriage to Robert Lowell. The sleeve image is of Georgia O’Keeffe’s hands as photographed by Alfred Stieglitz, who, had they been a literary couple rather than in the visual arts, could easily have featured in one of Hardwick’s essays. The other element of the sleeve design is a solid violet field, which is a nod to Robert Mapplethorpe’s diptych Mercury, 1987, also referenced in a song title. | 
 
			








