'Simply because he insists on placing individual clarity of vision at the center of the creative process, rather than be enslaved and driven by the technological toys and tools of the day, he will always remain a liberating remove from any definable scene.' Rob Young in The Wire, London

'Radical Fashion' Victoria and Albert Museum, London England October 2001 - January 2002 A visually stunning and provocative exhibition featuring the work of world-class designers and musicians including: Azzedine Alaia, Olivier Alary, Bjork, Hussein Chalayan, Christopher Charles, Kim Cascone, Max Eastley, Comme Des Garcons, Jean Paul Gaultier, Ken Ikeda, Helmut Lang, Alexander McQueen, Issey Miyake, Maison Martin Margiela, Akira Rabelais, Paul Schuetze, Ryuichi Sakamoto, David Toop, Junya Watanabe, Vivienne Westwood, and Yohji Yamamoto

scratched across and walks away, with that she
carefully washed all darkly translucent in their
wavering shadows, clings and clinging,
neuer giues to truth and vertue
that which simpleness and merit purchaseth,
and lay ages drop unto it as were rain.

all round the months and years
the sounds and seas with all winds,
if silent why while her song she chanted:

        thine peynes rykene hit
        were long, ne may hem tellen
        spelle ne song, wawyn or waueryn,
        yn a myry totyr who techeth a fool
        as that glueth togidere sherde

that it was likely to be good and made
lamentation saying, "my dear child I am now
or rather as I mean to do in mine and did I not
know you till I will unsay the spell that
holds you here..."

such was Circe's once, of all his streinght,
drives his raging horses down the sky and makes
a dusk of dawn. So turns she every man the wrong
side out and never gives to truth and virtue that
which emptyness and merit purchaseth,
yet they were chasing, and after them came
the clear and clearer mournfully-sweet chorus
of the spear went right through.

enchanted as she was, the words otherwise you
say even through the little spirit told her how
she softly sleeping lay, or merely pretended not
to let them wash the world of things which have
been said already after saying of departure,
and by the act had recognised from the blackened
beams in drying loops suspended,
the simple harvest stores, sorb-apples,
ripe, wreaths of fragrant herbs and sprigs
of savourie in raisin-clusters twined.
Did I not know you till I will unsay
the spell that holds us.

- Akira Rabelais

Harold Budd microsite. Avalon Sutra at samadhisound.com

BBC Online review

Barcodezine review

The Wire Magazine
"Spellewauerynsherde breathes sublimity through your CD player circuits."

Spellewauerynsherde is built up from found sounds, field recordings of traditional Icelandic accapella lament songs recorded in the late 1960s or early 1970s on Ampex tapes and then forgotten about. After discovering the neglected tapes, cleaning them up and digitizing them for a library, Rabelais became fascinated with the heartbreaking sadness of the voices and began to think of them as source material for a series of compositions.

"a haunting spiritual disk that sounds at once medieval, especially framed by Rabelaisí beautiful texts, while at the same time, on the cutting edge of electronic music"