Album Review: Tissues by Pan Daijing

The human voice is malleable and mechanical; the ocean is vast and soggy For a while, I thought Pan Daijing was the kind of artist better experienced with eyes than ears - and not in that way! On 2020's Jade, her blend of fragile vocal contortions with oppressive mechanical beats and soundscapes was more remarkable for the (limited) friction between the two than anything particularly appealing brought by either side, but if you were a writer taken with the pure concept of warped vestigial humanity persisting in a dehumanised space, chances are you'd be overjoyed to harp about her day and night. Consider her God's gift to anyone endeavouring to justify "post-industrial" as a credible genre labelling. When I think of Jade, the first thing that comes to mind isn't an musical impression of any kind, but Pitchfork's eloquent diagnosis of a duality of claustrophobia and agoraphobia in Daijing's standalone lyric I take my bath in the ocean / I can't get out.

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