His installment for Stroboscopic Artefact's Monad series begins ordinarily enough. "Tinofet" has a deep, punchy kick and shimmery rave stabs that flash—like much of Avni's music, it's a dance track with hooks. Then things head into the wild with field recordings, nanoscopic sound design, entwined instrumentation and a female vocalist with monumental range. "Rusha" is like a trove of sound. Machine whirrs, tiny zips, drips, dings and other quirky bits are some of the the curiosities on display, contained within a cabinet of surging, dubby bass.
"Marva Version" and "Marva" are the EP's mystic closers, built around hypnotic singing bowls, woodwind melodies and otherworldly vocals. The former is set to a steady forward thrust that yawns with industrial creaks and acid drips. The latter strips those electronic elements away, leaving its meditative core raw and exposed. It's at once jarring and beautiful, and transports the listener somewhere indiscernibly strange.