One of the great joys of underground electronic music is the sheer volume of it; the sprawling, ungovernable mass of sound that ensures genuine surprises are never far away if you know where to look.
It was during one such trawl (a typically drizzly UK evening, sofa firmly occupied, Instagram algorithm dialled in to almost exclusively music) that we stumbled upon the enigmatic Cognition Machine; a creative cooperative of mysterious producers orbiting around (we assume) classically trained musician Lars Koller.
Further investigation led us to Monday Museum II, a label compilation featuring the full Cognition Machine roster either solo or in combination with one-another. And, quite frankly, we are enormously glad it crossed our feed.
Fans of the more cerebral corners of the electronic spectrum (think Skam, Schematic, Raster-Noton, and Ghostly International) should find themselves on immediately familiar terrain here. Monday Museum II casts a wide net across the leftfield electronic music universe; from drone-laden rhythmical doomtronica through to playful, mercurial IDM, the full gamut is accounted for and then some.
Lars Koller shoulders the heaviest load on the compilation, appearing across four productions, and it is immediately clear why he sits at the heart of the collective.
Opener Carbon Reef (feat. Siphon Diver) sets the tone for the entire record; a lilting synth bell chimes amidst softly crackling static and swells of distortion, while a minimal, low-slung drum pattern sits atop a bass so deep it feels like something emanating from Jupiter's core. Boards of Canada comparisons feel entirely warranted (and rather topical at the time of publication).

Clay In Pain is arguably the most arresting of his contributions; an almost beatless piece save for sparse, random clicking that surfaces in its second half. The track doesn't so much enter your consciousness as seep into it, cell by cell, slow and viscous as a symbiote finding its host.
In collaboration with Creature, Cave of Cuts shifts into more rhythmically grounded territory, coupling a steady, lo-fi dancehall beat with beautifully ethereal synth waves and liquified plucks.
His final solo contribution, Missing 4 is a brief ambient interlude built around a soft guitar arpeggio played over lush pads, functions as a gentle palate cleanser at the album's midpoint; deceptively simple, deeply effective.
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jamkiol provides some of the compilation's most energetically unpredictable moments. Warm Titanium opens with a throbbing, viscous low end that sets up a brooding downtempo framework, before a brilliantly unexpected live drum segment arrives to jettison the whole thing skyward.
West Edge// is a masterclass in rhythmic misdirection; a staunch 4/4 beat lulls you into a false sense of security before dissolving into an ambient wash, at which point a choppy, euphoric breakbeat balters onto the soundstage and shakes you firmly by the lapels.
Its immediate successor // DISPLAY SHELL then completely removes the lapels, the coat, and most of the furniture. A breakcore explosion that will have fans of Venetian Snares and Kid606 grinning from ear to ear, it is quite possibly our favourite moment on the entire record; a joyous reminder of exactly why we fell for this corner of electronic music in the first place.

Hybridize closes the album with a ten-minute epic that could not feel more earned. A slowly oscillating bass, minimal insistent hi-hat percs, and a repeating string pluck arpeggio combine to carry the record out on an emotional crest; the sense of forward motion and rebirth it generates is palpable.
Creature Seven's OZONED opens with a digital drip that ushers in some genuinely doomy synth work, the track mutating slowly through swathes of distortion atop a bass swell that feels like it is forever forging ahead into the unknown.
In collaboration with oonoow, the duo return for penultimate track DEMON BLUR; a brooding production where a deep bassline undulates beneath ebbing and flowing string pads, before a breakbeat seizes control of the second half with considerable force.
Sleeper Forum contributes Trench Transfer, which nudges the pace fractionally upward while keeping the mood resolutely dark. It occupies a space somewhere between aquatic techno and deep ocean pressure; murky, disorienting, and quietly thrilling.
oonoow is perhaps the most shape-shifting presence on the record. Coral Skull opens with synthetic gurgles and belches occupying a rhythm alongside a tip-toeing top end that dances playfully across the surface of the other elements, before dissolving into a Twin Peaks-esque reverie of reversed samples and hauntingly beautiful piano.
Driftwood Lullaby occupies a similarly dreamlike space, though of a considerably more febrile variety; incessant, probing synths poke and prod throughout, never quite permitting rest, generating instead a creeping sense of impending peril.

Sprinting Ink offers the record's most unambiguously hallucinatory experience; a full-blooded ambient piece that at its most immersive feels not unlike finding yourself unexpectedly deep in a psilocybin-related escapade.
Scorched Heart then gently shakes you back out of the reverie, its Aphex-adjacent charm carrying a strange, hauntological familiarity. Distorted percussion opens with a chaotic energy before a depth-charge sub slams into your sternum with considerable conviction.
Finally, 412's Hoboken carries a distinctly Japanese sensibility; minimal drums underpin a slow, measured rhythm while a synth traces a near-Zen melodic path. The track's folk-inflected intensity builds toward a closing segment where the pace lifts and the synthetic glass bell takes on an almost ceremonial quality.
Monday Museum II is, without doubt, a joy to absorb. We highly recommend checking out Cognition Machine’s wider discography. A very exciting project. Grab the album on Bandcamp, pronto.





