Tracklist
| 1 | Porchside Prologue (2026 Remaster) | 1:22 | |
| 2 | Broken Marching Band (2026 Remaster) | 5:06 | |
| 3 | A Brief Visual Pattern (2026 Remaster) | 5:08 | |
| 4 | Seaside Pastures Part 2 (2026 Remaster) | 5:59 | |
| 5 | Displacement (2026 Remaster) | 3:37 | |
| 6 | Porchside Economics (2026 Remaster) | 5:32 | |
| 7 | Material Instrument 1 (2026 Remaster) | 5:27 | |
| 8 | Material Instrument 2 (2026 Remaster) | 4:27 | |
| 9 | Past Tense Kitchen Movement (2026 Remaster) | 4:43 | |
| 10 | Epilogue (2026 Remaster) | 3:30 |
Originally released in 2008 on Ezekiel Honig’s own Anticipate Recordings, Surfaces of a Broken Marching Band finds the artist refining a compositional language rooted in the methodologies of musique concrete, ambient, and beat research. Working from a palette of environmental recordings, instrumental fragments, and soft electronic treatments, Honig pushes the source material into an array of sympathetic forms ranging from pillow-soft, lowercase ambient to diffuse downtempo and minimal house. For its reissue on Keplar, the album has been remastered by Kassian Troyer (D&M), bringing a new clarity to its intricate, low-lit architectures.
Throughout the record, serving almost as audiographic guideposts, are faint but insistent gestures toward propulsion, an abiding and recurrent 4/4 pulse that guides the music laterally and instantiates a slow negotiation between its various elements. This music invites close listening precisely by not revealing itself all at once, allowing small collisions of timbre and subtle shifts in emphasis to carry the weight. The traces of lived environments that remain embedded in the mix - distant crowds, sounds of transit, the indistinct acoustics of interiors in flux - expand the frame without breaking its intimacy, creating a potent dislocation between the nearness of the sound and the scale of its sources.
Rather than foregrounding any single voice, this is music that distributes attention equally across its materials, allowing background details to assert their presence as much as melody or rhythm. Honig presents listeners with an astute practice that’s concerned less with building from the ground up than with uncovering what happens when disparate textures and structures are brought into close contact with one another. (Alex Cobb, 2026)