John T. Gast - Infant
John T. Gast is one of the more surreal figures operating in the UK underground. With little to no information to go off, most of what we know rarely comes from the musings of the man. There are a few mixes here, a few radio shows there, and that's basically all we've had to go off of. The mystery is made all the more profound by the odd sounds and left-field influences in the Gast man's work. Most of Gast's records sound as though they're sampled from material that is either horrifically old, incredibly damaged or even haunted! Gast traverses music that lies somewhere between the anonymous 1980s DIY mixtape revolution and the juicy, sweet spots of static that fuzzes just right, only it's emitted by a paranormal investigator's treasured phantasm-measuring tool. With the inception of Gast's 5 GATE TEMPLE, it was evident that this was more than just a label. The releases ventured into experimental territory, becoming straight-up aesthetic oddities.
The latest release from John T. Gast, Infant (2026), plays like a treasure trove of lost media. Off-kilter leads sound like they are sampled from strange point-and-click adventure games. There's a heavy dungeon synth influence that triggers memories of playing blotchy PC games at your cousin's house. It should be clarified that Gast doesn't shy away from these influences, he puts them front and centre, such as on 'Mrzy – Stone Mix', where hazy organs loop over a crackly 8-bit base. However, sometimes these examples are elevated, like on 'Going In', where the disintegrating cartridge video game sounds are spliced together with rather rugged vocal samples, in a total juxtaposition that sounds crisp, with yeah, tribalistic, relying on call-and-response to create a groove.
The standout on the album has to be 'Flock Diary', which takes the shape of an analogue Aphex Twin offshoot. The glitches are replaced by type crackle and scratches, distorting the instruments into a single cohesive wave that follows the bassline. Gast opts for saturation rather than distortion on this one, infusing it with a familiar warmth that envelops the record. Horrifically creepy ambient keyboard sounds blow like a ghostly breath, unsettlingly off-key yet rather pleasant. It's all very reminiscent of the scenes in The Simpsons where Mr Burns is mistaken for an alien. When the town discovers the truth, they are relieved and even celebrate, although the whole deal leaves the audience recoiling in a strange incompatibility.
Throughout the last stages of the record, things take a more industrial turn. However, this metallic, industrial edge isn't as harsh as you might expect. There's an aggressiveness to the sound, but it's more subdued and calculated, almost like a virus slowly working its way through the computer system. The tracks are fraught with maliciousness, but it's not apparent on the surface. For example, the title track exhibits more hypnotic qualities. The industrial sound design feels like a machine doing its intended job, the unease comes from the monotony. The track loops and loops almost to nauseam. As for 'Voices', it feels as though the rich, powerful drums are merely a distraction for the strange chap in the background. like a Trojan horse. The drums always give us exactly what we expect, but it's only as the horns begin to creep over the cut that the thing starts taking a darker turn. Lastly, 'POPULATION' fully embraces the cyberpunk edge. It sounds like samples of late 80s anime have been used, with flashes of Akira flooding my head when I listen to this one.
Throughout Infant, there are references to these rehearsal tapes, 'G2 Rehearsals'. These cuts don't last long but really lean into that haunted media, cursed-cassette-tape, ring-zero kind of thing. Rehearsals #3 and #4 are a mix of ugly, electrical rhythmic sections that convulsed with weird static, giving an impression of something screeching or attempting to exit through the speaker. Rehearsal #1 is a much tamer yet infinitely creepier rendition of odd drones that sound early, like do we want in the tape, do incredibly slowly. It's this almost liminal feeling that sweeps over you. This is if you're being dragged backwards in time and stored in someone's attic.
Overdriven beats made of the wonkiest of analogue machines and a perpetual feeling of hollow stillness. John's sound is less like that of other contemporary works, with each subsequent piece feeling archival. It's as though John just records the strange liminal world he is forced to endure. Aesthetically, it stands out from the clean, sterile sound that has become a mainstay of modern production. Gast pushes this electronic music thing into the opaque, exploring surrealism and lost media folklore with every track.
Label: 5 GATE TEMPLE (2026)
John T. Gast - Infant
