Flex Codex is the bedroom project of Maxim Elizarov (Slava Trio, Motherfathers, etc.) and Dima Dzr. The duo's eponymous debut album is a homogeneous 40-minute sonic canvas that mesmerises with a detached vibe. Flex Codex is like the quiet friend who arrives at the party before everyone else, doesn’t say a word until late in the evening before quietly disappearing. The music here, too, tries hard to blend in with the space around it. The recipe is
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Flex Codex is the bedroom project of Maxim Elizarov (Slava Trio, Motherfathers, etc.) and Dima Dzr. The duo's eponymous debut album is a homogeneous 40-minute sonic canvas that mesmerises with a detached vibe. Flex Codex is like the quiet friend who arrives at the party before everyone else, doesn’t say a word until late in the evening before quietly disappearing. The music here, too, tries hard to blend in with the space around it. The recipe is simple and consists of just two components: Dima manipulates wideband radio SDR receivers while Maxim manifests light rhythms by transforming sound loops extracted from flexible Soviet records. Sometimes it seems that Flex Codex is the perfect soundtrack for getting lost: different voices in all the languages of the world try to tell the listener their coordinates through radio interference, but still the followed path leads nowhere. However if you listen to the album carefully, a certain paralysis and disorientation in time occurs, and it can be a surprising shift when the music ceases to be the background to the listener but rather the listener becomes the background to the music. Flex Codex detaches itself from the subject and lies like a shadow on the cool asphalt. On the album cover Ilya Kutoboy exactly depicts this moment of ‘transformation into the objectless’.
