Description

Release Date: 21.June.2025

Trackinglist:
01 Ahdistusta Löydetty
02 Kadonneiden Sielujen Tanssi
03 Umpikuja Tie
04 Ylösnousemus
05 Autio Tyhjyys Hiljaisuus

In the shadowed corners of personal trauma and sonic experimentation lies “Taivaallinen Musiikki Positiivisen Terapian Psykiatrina” – a raw, unfiltered sonic diary from Finnish artist Aina Virtanen, known here under the enigmatic alias Puppe Magnetik.

Far removed from commercial compromise or genre safety, this first demo captures the agonizing beauty of survival through distortion, decay, and minimalist dread. Composed and recorded during a psychologically harrowing period – marked by anorexia, bulimia, dyslexia, persecution mania, and intense psychiatric crises – the tape functions less as a conventional album and more as a psychological artifact. Its title, whimsically disconnected, translates to Celestial Music as Positive Therapy Psychiatrist, ironically cloaking the brutal emotional nakedness of the contents beneath a surreal halo.

What began as an operetta-influenced academic project in Berlin, distorted by the pressures of expectation and a collapsing sense of self, was later reborn amidst institutional walls during the COVID-19 pandemic. Between Berlin and Rovaniemi, with only a few instruments and her fractured psyche, Aina began the groundwork for what would become this scorched, whispered confession. The music is haunted: fractured classical motifs stretched over muddy MIDI drones, voice recordings warped into shrill confessions, guitars howling like feral animals trapped behind glass. There is no comfort here, no warmth. Aina’s disinterest in aesthetic compromise allows the ugliness to bloom with frightening authenticity. Listening feels intrusive, like flipping through someone’s torn, half-burned diary pages. There are no choruses, no climaxes – only a drifting assemblage of sound and memory.

The audio quality is primitive, but that only amplifies the feeling that these were never meant for public ears. Despite the horror, there’s something sacred about this release. Perhaps it’s in the brutal act of preservation, or the courage of someone playing their own ghost back to life. Recommended for: listeners of Diamanda Galás, Jandek, early Current 93, and those with a stomach for sonic exorcism. These early recordings were destroyed, but thanks to the intervention of a collaborator of the band who had preserved them, we managed to recover the original audio, which remains an interesting sound document and for this reason we asked AIna to publish it on cassette for the first time, strictly limited to 33 numbered edition.