The enigmatic, sometimes un-categorisable and always brilliant Thomas Bush joins us this winter!

"A great beautiful mess, in which Thomas Bush occasionally sings and speaks in veiled pitch. On hallucinated rhythms. Along the guitar, that’s everywhere. As chord. As melody. As sound. As a sliding desert stoner. Droning, zoning. Keeping the campfire glow. Broken folk with stretched tones on electric bones. Minimal melodies, maximum wonder. Sacral shoeless shoegaze haze. Some say, there are wavering shadows of Lorren Connors airs, heavy mary chained. A guitar mourns; a piano note dances alone." - Kashual Plastik

"Down but not out minimal pop (?) with perfectly proportioned synth / drum / machine, etc. Nothing better encapsulates the plaintive MISERY that is the UK right now. Totally ruined by this one - one of the best - 100% future classic" - All Night Flight

"On his compelling debut bow for Kiran Sande’s Lost Domain, multi-faceted post-techno bard Thomas Bush pushes from ambient elegy to exquisite timbral fuckery and bedsit blooz with a poetic grasp of minimalist brutalism akin The Automatics Group, Dale Cornish, Lolina, John T. Gast" - Boomkat

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