Trev’s Virtual Cassette Library 318
Hello there, listeners. It’s me. Trevor.
You’ve pressed play on another Virtual Cassette Library. Twelve tracks. Two sides. A little plastic ghost that flips itself at the halfway mark, like a polite pancake.
If you make music, or you run a label, or you simply own a shed full of strange noises and would like them filed somewhere warm, send your links or Bandcamp codes to trevlad@gmail.com. I read every one. Promise. I read them with both eyes and, on special occasions, a third one.
The shows stay free for the first week, wandering about with their shoelaces undone. After that they slip quietly into the hands of my Mixcloud subscribers, who currently have over eleven hundred other episodes waiting for them whenever the mood strikes, which in my experience is usually Tuesdays, or during eclipses, or when the kettle boils. Subscribers also receive the expanding series of three-hour adventures titled Veil Frequencies, which is less a mixtape and more a long walk through a curtain that may be sentient.
Now. Each of these episodes is a two-set outing, just like the classic cassette. Unlike mixtapes or playlists, these two sides are curated as proper DJ sets, six tracks segued into one continuous mix, stitched together so carefully you can barely see the thread. Unless you look. Don’t look.
I hope you enjoy the adventure. Mind the flip.
Steps that refuse to announce themselves, then a forest that arrived a year early.
Side A counts silent steps so quietly the floorboards agree not to tell, loses a microlith before you notice, sketches four corners with no furniture, hides a small modernist house in the woodland, skims the surface and refuses the basement, and runs a film that never quite developed. Side B ties up under its own wind at a jetty grown on purpose, sees space invaders double and misses them, builds a reef from harmonics no one may stand on, leaves a green needle that will not say which word it is, threads blood through a low-lit labyrinth, and dates a midnight forest 2025 inside timestreams dated 2026.
Overall mood: Quiet, slightly uncanny, and carefully unfinished — full of small stones, half-cleared paths, and trees that have not been told which year they are in. Perfect for dusk listening, houses hiding in woods, or sitting still while the next spool still waits.
Mood mist: steps that refuse to announce themselves, stones smaller than a minute, squares that have given up being rooms, a house hiding in trees, land seen only from above, a film that never quite developed.
00:00:00 hershel – 16
https://whitelabrecs.bandcamp.com/track/16
From the album: silent steps for a better way. Label: whitelabrecs
Silent steps for a better way, counted so quietly the floorboards agree not to tell.
00:09:43 zakè, Ossa, ASC – Microlith 5
https://zakedrone.bandcamp.com/track/microlith-5-3
From the album: Microliths and Momentary Drifts.
A stone you could lose in a pocket, drifting for less time than it takes to notice you dropped it.
00:10:36 Nick May – Minimal Squares
https://nickmaymusic.bandcamp.com/track/minimal-squares
From the album: Sketches: Ambient Works.
Sketches that declined to become paintings. Four corners, no furniture, the light doing all the talking.
00:14:08 Enofa – Slate
https://enofa.bandcamp.com/track/slate
From the album: Small Modernist House in Woodland Setting. Label: Subexotic Records
A small modernist house in a woodland setting, roof the colour of an unsent letter, Subexotic leaving the path half-cleared.
00:19:10 Olio Flux – Land, The Surface
https://olioflux.bandcamp.com/track/land-the-surface
From the album: Selected Frequencies.
Selected frequencies skimming the crust and refusing the basement. Everything interesting is happening one millimetre down.
00:23:12 Akira Film Script – Jeno
https://etherealprojector.bandcamp.com/track/jeno
From the album: Holo. Label: Ethereal Projector
A projection that needed a screen. Ethereal Projector running the reel anyway.
Mood mist: a ship coming back under its own wind, a mouse seeing double in orbit, a reef built from harmonics, a needle that may also be a brain, a labyrinth that kept the lights low, a forest that arrived a year early.
00:25:26 Anubis Rude – Homecoming
https://ingrown.bandcamp.com/track/homecoming
From the album: Windjammer. Label: Ingrown Records
Tying up at a jetty Ingrown grew on purpose. The dog on the porch may be a god.
00:29:51 Letters From Mouse – Stereo Vision
https://tripfm.bandcamp.com/track/letters-from-mouse-stereo-vision
From the album: Triplicate Tapes Vol. 2: Space Invaders. Label: TRIP FM, Triplicate Records
Space invaders seen with both eyes, which is how you miss them. Triplicate printing the postcard three times.
00:33:20 Coda Nautica – Coral
https://neotantra.bandcamp.com/track/coral
From the album: Intricate Harmonics 2. Label: Neotantra
Intricate harmonics building a reef no one is allowed to stand on. Neotantra leaving the snorkel by the door.
00:38:31 Time Rival – Green Needle
https://timerival.bandcamp.com/track/green-needle
From the album: stay safe out there.
Stay safe out there — advice from a record that has already left the house. Laurel or yanny. The tape will not say.
00:41:44 Boards of Canada – Blood In The Labyrinth
https://boardsofcanada.bandcamp.com/track/blood-in-the-labyrinth
From the album: Inferno. Label: Warp Records
Inferno filed under Warp, the thread you were told not to look at.
00:46:19 Mark Ellery Griffiths – Midnight Forest (2025)
https://markgriffiths.bandcamp.com/track/midnight-forest-2025
From the album: Timestreams (2026).
Midnight forest, dated 2025, living inside timestreams dated 2026. The trees have not been informed which year they are in. They seem fine.
This has been The Virtual Cassette Library, episode 318.
Travel safely between the frequencies.
I’ll meet you on the other side of the next spool.
