Artist: Annie Orb
Release Year: 2020
Description: Three sonic postcards. Three titans of electronic expression.
On China Synthdrome, Annie Orb distills decades of synth history into three focused, lovingly imperfect homages.
Each track nods to a master — not through imitation, but through emotional resonance and the charm of slightly wobbly pitch. This is not pastiche — it’s personal archaeology.
1. China Synthdrome (inspired by Kitarō)
A slow-blooming synthscape filled with breathy pads and spiritual calm, echoing Kitarō’s most meditative work. There’s a sense of rising mist here, or sunrise over a snow-covered temple — calm, yet full of wonder.
The detuned bass feels like a soft earthquake under a still surface.
Imagine: Kojiki-era warmth recorded to VHS.
2. Sagittarius – shè shǒu zuò (inspired by Tangerine Dream)
This is the most cosmic of the three — with gently shifting arpeggios and soft choral pads that recall Tangerine Dream’s dreamier passages (think: Le Parc or Firestarter more than Phaedra).
It's not dark, but it suggests depth, like floating through a nebula with only faint sequencer pulses to guide you.
Imagine: The gentlest sunrise ever rendered in step-time.
3. Walking in the Moonlight – Zài yuèguāng xià xíngzǒu (inspired by Jean-Michel Jarre)
The closing piece borrows heavily from Rendez-vous-era Jarre — a steady beat, lush leads, airy chord progressions, and that signature bittersweet blend of hope and mystery.
It’s sweeping but delicate, and the slightly wobbly tuning gives it a human heartbeat.
Imagine: Oxygène meets a soft-focus memory of dancing alone in a silver suit.
Final thought:
China Synthdrome is more than tribute — it’s a reflection of influence as seen through Annie Orb’s eyes. Imperfect. Endearing. And utterly sincere.