bent – Liquid Bells EP
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Niko Martens doesn’t demand attention—he earns it with nuance. His project bent speaks in discreet electronics, not with bombast but with sonic precision. And Liquid Bells, his latest EP, is a masterclass in restraint and resonance, delivering immediacy without ever sacrificing depth. It hums, pulses, aches—each track a fragment of introspection suspended in a glassy lattice of sound.
What makes Martens’ approach remarkable is his ability to draw you in with textures that feel intimate and intentional. The title track "Liquid Bells" glows with a melodic clarity that’s both melancholic and propulsive. Its chorus rings out like a question suspended mid-air—"Can you hear the liquid bells?"—a haunting refrain underscored by themes of fear, alienation, and emotional disorientation. And yet, for all the lyrical gravity, the arrangement floats. There's no heavy-handed plunge into darkness. Instead, it’s a descent by featherlight degrees. There’s tension here, yes—but never chaos. Even the most thematically turbulent track, "Methadone," avoids the expected sonic descent. It’s lyrically brutal, documenting a psyche on the edge: blood, addiction, a fractured inner monologue. The language is raw, almost disturbingly intimate. "Seven – nine – eight / Doc, I need methadone!" rings with the desperation of someone clawing at walls that keep closing in. But the production—elevated in pitch, tinged with synth clarity—refuses to drag us into the mud. Martens offers no catharsis, only illumination. This is not a wallow. It’s an autopsy of pain—clinical and clear-eyed.
This tension between darkness and light is perhaps what gives Liquid Bells its signature sonic identity. While the subject matter teeters on the edge of collapse, the melodies never lose their structural integrity. There is no melodrama here—just the precise architecture of emotional weight.
The EP is bookended by four reimaginings of "Liquid Bells," each revealing a different facet of Martens’ compositional DNA. GEttNER’s remix twists the knobs of electronic intensity, spiraling into denser rhythmic terrain. MC1R’s "Frozen Memories" version sharpens the corners, giving it an edge that feels almost crystalline. StateMent injects a club-ready pulse without diluting the introspective quality—their take is danceable, yes, but still psychologically charged. Holocoder’s mix occupies the middle ground: hypnotic, synthetic, exacting.
There’s a sense of deliberate restraint across the entire EP—Martens knows exactly when to hold back and when to let something shimmer. You feel the space between sounds as much as the sounds themselves. Liquid Bells doesn’t ask to be understood in one listen. It rewards those who listen again—and then again. In a time when emotional blunt force often masquerades as artistic depth, Niko Martens offers something far more demanding—and more rewarding. With Liquid Bells, he’s created a sonic space where precision meets vulnerability, where subtlety screams louder than distortion.
What makes Martens’ approach remarkable is his ability to draw you in with textures that feel intimate and intentional. The title track "Liquid Bells" glows with a melodic clarity that’s both melancholic and propulsive. Its chorus rings out like a question suspended mid-air—"Can you hear the liquid bells?"—a haunting refrain underscored by themes of fear, alienation, and emotional disorientation. And yet, for all the lyrical gravity, the arrangement floats. There's no heavy-handed plunge into darkness. Instead, it’s a descent by featherlight degrees. There’s tension here, yes—but never chaos. Even the most thematically turbulent track, "Methadone," avoids the expected sonic descent. It’s lyrically brutal, documenting a psyche on the edge: blood, addiction, a fractured inner monologue. The language is raw, almost disturbingly intimate. "Seven – nine – eight / Doc, I need methadone!" rings with the desperation of someone clawing at walls that keep closing in. But the production—elevated in pitch, tinged with synth clarity—refuses to drag us into the mud. Martens offers no catharsis, only illumination. This is not a wallow. It’s an autopsy of pain—clinical and clear-eyed.
This tension between darkness and light is perhaps what gives Liquid Bells its signature sonic identity. While the subject matter teeters on the edge of collapse, the melodies never lose their structural integrity. There is no melodrama here—just the precise architecture of emotional weight.
The EP is bookended by four reimaginings of "Liquid Bells," each revealing a different facet of Martens’ compositional DNA. GEttNER’s remix twists the knobs of electronic intensity, spiraling into denser rhythmic terrain. MC1R’s "Frozen Memories" version sharpens the corners, giving it an edge that feels almost crystalline. StateMent injects a club-ready pulse without diluting the introspective quality—their take is danceable, yes, but still psychologically charged. Holocoder’s mix occupies the middle ground: hypnotic, synthetic, exacting.
There’s a sense of deliberate restraint across the entire EP—Martens knows exactly when to hold back and when to let something shimmer. You feel the space between sounds as much as the sounds themselves. Liquid Bells doesn’t ask to be understood in one listen. It rewards those who listen again—and then again. In a time when emotional blunt force often masquerades as artistic depth, Niko Martens offers something far more demanding—and more rewarding. With Liquid Bells, he’s created a sonic space where precision meets vulnerability, where subtlety screams louder than distortion.
Tracklist:
Liquid Bells
Exosphere
Methadone
Liquid Bells (Frozen Memories Remix by MC1R)
Liquid Bells (Holocoder Remix)
Liquid Bells (Dance Version by StateMent)
Liquid Bells (GEttNER Remix)
Release Date: 25.04.2025
https://bent8.bandcamp.com/album/liquid-bells-ep
