A square is only a square if you are there
A trial is full of denial if we are wild
I march the same blocks
Consumed by odd thoughts
The creative force of the synth-driven duo Rohn-Lederman charges forward like a current crackling through frayed wires, a fusion of raw voltage and whispered longing. Emileigh Rohn, the Detroit siren behind Chiasm, binds her voice to the relentless pulse of Jean-Marc Lederman, known for his work in The The, The Weathermen, Fad Gadget, and Front 242. Their debut, Venus Chariot, shot skyward in 2021, carving its place atop the DAC charts, a launchpad for the wildfire fury of RAGE! in 2022, and the bruised, unbowed Black and Bleu in 2024. Their most recent EP, Steal The Light, showed the duo electrified and unrelenting, their chemistry sharper, their signal stronger.
Now, they unveil a new LP: Forbidden Planet, a world of modular mayhem and spectral poetry, where Lederman’s Le Modulatron – a Eurorack beast of his own design – pulses at the core. Electro past and future collide, drenched in cinematic synths and restless industrial undercurrents. Rohn’s hypnotic, gentle voice, equal parts lullaby and alarm, floats above the chaos, an ethereal guide through a labyrinth of voltage and verse. A volatile electronic immersion, Forbidden Planet hums with tension, spirals through heartbreak, and rattles the bones of insomniac nights. It is a combination of poetry, EBM beats, chant, and inner monologue – the kind of album that plays in our heads before an insomnia-riddled night. The songs are in good company with the spirit of Suicide, Anne Clark’s Metropolis, and Laurie Anderson’s Big Science.
The restless Urban Jungle wrestles with intrusion, unwanted voices pressing in, demanding, instructing, insisting on truths that don’t hold. In Pass The Test, the mind drifts through the monotony of routine, lost in the geometry of existence, where certainty dissolves with a blink. Thoughts fragment, letters twist into numbers, reality bends in the periphery. Somewhere beyond the static, simplicity flickers: a fleeting peace untouched by chaos.
A quiet invasion unfolds in They Crawl Back; a steady march of small, determined bodies tracing invisible paths. Each with purpose, each with instinct, undeterred by barriers or attempts at exile. The path was known once, certain beneath steady steps, but now it shifts, dissolves, leaving nothing to follow. The way back was clear. Wasn’t it?
Allergies flare, just like old grievances, in Take Me Out, where the game always mattered more, the couch held more weight than words. Trapped, ignored, waiting. No more pretending, no more proving. The box breaks, the day begins, a new path unfolds. Yesterday burned bright, today turns hollow in Steal The Light. Promises once sweet now taste stale. If their light could be stolen, loneliness might lift. Past and present tangle, expectations pull. Roads misread still lead somewhere. A moment’s peace waits beneath the stars. In Finding Home, we drift in silence, waiting for a signal that won’t come. Alone in motion, alone in thought. Seeking peace, saving face, always waiting.
In I Am No One, we encounter a world unmoored, stripped bare of structure: no windows, no walls, no lanes to follow. The wind carries anger like a storm, machines grinding dreams into dust. Faces twist, unrecognizable, rage boiling beneath crumbling skies. The air thickens, sick and malformed, a performance with no escape. Then chaos erupts in In Danger: cars detonate, hearts collapse, everything shifts without warning. Uncertainty looms, each moment unraveling like frayed wires stretched too thin. A cycle of blame, a desperate search for meaning, a longing for someone to stay.
Glitter clings, mocking light in the wreckage in Hear Me From Space. Faces drift, eyes avert, fear lingers. Pain cycles, rules set by ghosts. Signals vanish into the void, history loops, voices call: seeking an echo, a trace, a way to rewrite the ending. Tears streak through painted skin, hands caught in forbidden places in Made It All Up. Lines stretch, rides spin, illusion crumbles. Fire swallows, tracks derail, teacups shatter. Stories fade: fabricated, fleeting, never meant to last. In Chaos, the final song, voices rise in static, chaos churns beneath. Wishes slip, anger simmers, distance stretches between sky and ground. Sticks snap, fate burns, nightmares coil tight. Signals lost, warnings unheard. Fear lingers, rescue distant, silence swallowed by sound.
Watch the album’s trailer below:
Forbidden Planet is available on all digital and streaming platforms, as well as a limited-edition, eye-catching transparent vinyl LP edition. Listen to the album below and order it here.
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