Atan’s Dream Machine
A story in sound, static, and jokes
Malaysian experimental artist and sound researcher Kamal Sabran unveils his latest sonic ritual album, Atan’s Dream Machine—a dreamlike collision of vinyl memory, modular synthesis, folk comedy, and spiritual glitch.
Album Cover: History loops. Memory glitches.
Let’s be honest: this whole album started with a joke. Or more precisely—a vinyl record of Jamali Shadat telling a joke.
I found it in a dusty stack, the label slightly stained, spinning like it was still laughing.
The track was called “Atan Dengan Kambing-nya.”
And something about it whispered:
“This is not just comedy… this is a portal.”
So I built a machine.
Or rather—I dreamed one into existence.
A machine made of vintage drum boxes, ghostly reverb trails, modular feedback loops, spiritual frequency, and old Malaysian cassette tapes that refuse to die.
The Concept:
Atan is not just a name. He’s every kampung boy who grew up between jokes and gossip.
And the Dream Machine?
It’s my studio. It’s my brain. It’s a haunted playground where Jamali Shadat’s voice gets reprocessed into delay trails, scratches, broken loops, and digital echo.
This album is what happens when you cross:
• Vinyl folklore
• Modular synthesis
• Hip-hop swing
• Glitchy chaos theory
• And that weird spiritual feeling you get when you hear “Negara Ku” through an old speaker in the rain.
The Process:
I sampled directly from Jamali’s vintage records—voice, silence, static, jokes and all.
Then I fed them through the Ace Tone Rhythm Fever, some moody modular gear, the OP-1, a few experimental pedals (like the Ghost and Crushternal)—and let the system break things in beautiful ways.
Beats stutter. Punchlines loop. The past crumbles into reverb.
And every once in a while, something ancient slips through—something that doesn’t belong to this century.
Genre? Don’t Ask.
If I had to label it:
It’s folk-electronic-hybrid-spiritual-sound-art-glitch-hop with a touch of broken-joke Dondang Sayang.
Basically: it doesn’t sit still. It wanders. Like memory. Like dreams. Like Atan.
Philosophically Speaking…
Jamali made us laugh, but he also made us see.
See the absurdity in our lives. The poetry in the mundane.
That’s what this album tries to do—with machines instead of monologues.
I’m not remixing Jamali. I’m translating him into another language. A modular dialect. A sonic echo.
Atan’s Dream Machine isn’t here to entertain.
It’s here to provoke… gently.
It wants you to smile… then suddenly feel something you can’t quite name.
What to Expect:
• Beats that wobble like old VCRs
• Voices that glitch, loop, and glitch again
• Fragments of Malaysian memory drifting in and out of rhythm
• Jokes—old, broken, beautifully timed
• Laughter that doesn’t know if it’s sacred or ridiculous (it’s both)
In the end, Atan’s Dream Machine is a love letter to a Malaysia that’s half-forgotten—but still humming inside vinyl or cassette tape hiss and kampung stories.
It’s also just a weird album.
Made with heart. Made with wires.
And made to be played loud, alone, and maybe upside down.
So go on—press play.
And dream with us.
Atan’s Dream Machine is now available via Bandcamp:
https://spacegambusexperiment.bandcamp.com/album/atan-s-dream-machine