Released 27 December 2025 on 4000 Records, Dual Dialect’s Conglomerate packs a sci-fi film’s worth of atmosphere into 22 minutes. Across eight tracks, the Brisbane duo weave glitchy, atmospheric downtempo and noir-tinged jazztronica into a sleek concept EP about the rise-and-fall cycles of modern tech culture. Dark but inviting, and richly textured without ever feeling cluttered, Conglomerate is a deeply satisfying listen for anyone living somewhere between jazz and electronica.
I actually found Dual Dialect through this release first, then doubled back to their debut EP from May 2025, Wild Plants Cover the Abandoned Nuclear Site. It’s another thematic piece, using electronic sound design and improvised wind lines as tools for world-building, but it feels a little looser and more exploratory, leaning harder into open-ended improvisation. Conglomerate keeps that conceptual streak but tightens the screws, sounding more cohesive and intentionally paced, with denser atmosphere and a clearer arc.
The theme this time zooms in on the cult of tech empires: how they rise as modern structures of worship, recruit belief, and eventually cave in. On the sound side, the duo’s chemistry is the anchor. Andrew Foley’s electronics provide the grain and weight, with thick minor-key pads, dragged-down drum patterns and little digital artefacts fluttering around the edges. Andrew Garton steps in as the emotional core, his sax and woodwinds shifting from smoky and restrained to sharp and insistent as the EP unfolds. It all plays like a conversation between two players who trust each other’s instincts, letting improvisation unfold inside a structure rather than spill out in every direction.
What I also love here is that the sequencing becomes part of the storytelling. The longer tracks do the heavy lifting and feel like chapters: ascent, ritual, fracture, then full-on malfunction. The interludes, with their snatches of spoken word, processed voices and hazy ambience, keep dropping you into new rooms of the same building, giving the EP a continuous flow.
With its atmospheric, slightly mysterious downtempo pulse and Garton’s lines glowing like late-night streetlights in fog, “Conglomerate I – Climb the Pyramid” is a great entry point that could easily appeal to fans of Flying Lotus or Boards of Canada as much as jazz listeners. “Conglomerate II – Algorithm Rituals” is where the suspense really thickens: sharper glitch details against shadowy synths, and the way the sax ramps up in the second half feels like watching a system quietly spin out of spec. And the closing “Blue-screen Bebop in the Key of Doom Flat” is where the duo really flex their control of dynamics, slipping between calm, cinematic stretches and suddenly coiled, tense sections like a spiral that keeps rewriting itself.
By the end, Conglomerate feels like an intriguing world you’ve walked through rather than just another piece you’ve listened to. For such a brief EP, the improvisation is real, but it’s channelled into arcs and payoffs instead of shapeless noodling; the concept is present, but never at the expense of mood. And especially for a second release, it feels remarkably assured.
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Find similar music in our Nu Jazz, Jazztronica and Dark Jazz, Noir Jazz & Doom Jazz playlists.
We discovered this release via SubmitHub.
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