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10" (E60)


Belgium £13 (including postage)

Europe £15 (including postage)

Rest of world £17 (including postage)


Edition of 200 copies

Velocimane (masc. nn.)
(from Lat. velox, -ocis [speedy], and manus [hand]). Special locomotive device for children, resembling a horse, mounted on three or four wheels; also called
mechanical horse.
At once from life and from the chariot driv’n, Th’ ambitious boy fell thunder-struck from Heav’n. The horses started with a sudden bound, And flung the reins and chariot to the ground: The studded harness from their necks they broke, Here fell a wheel, and here a silver spoke, Here were the beam and axle 

torn away; And, scatter’d o’er the Earth, 

the shining fragments lay.

— Ovid, Metamorphoses


Willingly would I burn to death like Phaeton, were this the price for reaching the sun and learning its shape, its size and its substance.
— Eudoxus


Haptic was formed in Chicago in the 

spring of 2005 by Steven Hess (Cleared, RLYR, Innode, ex-Dropp Ensemble), 

Joseph Clayton Mills (Maar, Partial, 

Jonathan Chen, ex-Dropp Ensemble), and Adam Sonderberg (ex-Dropp Ensemble). It was initially conceived as 

a vehicle for live collaboration. To that end, the group has frequently incorporated a different, rotating fourth member, deliberately chosen to send the music in unpredictable and challenging

directions. Such collaborators have ranged from Tony Buck (The Necks) 

and Olivia Block to Mark Solotroff (BLOODYMINDED) and Tim Barnes. Individual members of the group have recorded for a multitude of labels

including Kranky, Crouton, Editions Mego, Longbox Recordings, Relapse Records, Utech, Cathnor, Tonschacht, Absurd, Thrill Jockey, BOXmedia, 

and Suppedaneum, amongst others.


Cristal (Jimmy Anthony, Greg Darden 

and Bobby Donne) has been active 

since a sangria-fuelled encounter in 

a Richmond, Virginia kitchen in 2001.


Volume is critical.

See also
Joseph Clayton Mills (E167)

Joseph Clayton Mills (EP3)

Out of print


[On] Haptic’s side of the 10" beats, each surrounded by a ripple of echo, loom like craters; electronic buzzes seem to come 

at you from their far-off invisible edge

and slam you against the wall, where

a sudden shriek of bowed metal impales you. Meditate upon this stuff at your peril.

While the trio occupying the other side also achieve an impressive depth of

field and physical presence, their main element is time. Their serrated electronics build to a crescendo, then cut it; then do

it again, and again, each time shorter

and further away, confronting the listener with the consequences of familiarity. That shouldn’t stop you from playing it again.

Bill Meyer in The Wire

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