YGT je tročlani audiovizualni kolektiv/elektronski sastav iz Ljubljane. Čine ga Gregor Kocijančič (vokal, klavijature, sintisajzeri, bas gitara), Fejzo Košir (bubanj,beats) i Mina Fina (video projekcije). Bend definira svoju glazbu kao "post-pop". Do sada su imali pet izdanja, a početkom godine su izdali svoj treći album "Sinking Ships" koji niže dobre kritike.
About Sinking Ship LP:
The lore had begun with a chance encounter that led to an experiment in watercolor sounds—a translucent canvas in which dreams appear. But with the final ripple in the pond came a 3 year silence. Now pared down to three, the color palette has shifted. Where there was once Monet, we now find a sort of Matisse. In place of sun-stained Indie inclinations and shadowed self-portraits, dreamy Post- Pop willows through verbose vistas.
"kaleidoscopic, ethereal beauty ...fusing styles ad bending genre boundaries, and on Sinking Ship they meld together left-field jazz, ambient, dub, and pop to great effect." (XLR8R)
"a delightfully complex ten-track odyssey offering of experimental jazz, downtempo & ambient pop" (NEST HQ)
"analogue rock arrangements with roiling electronics that at once resemble the guitar atmospherics of Tycho and the progressive beat music of Shigeto and Shlohmo." (Indie Current)
"It’s warm, relaxing, and slightly odd. It’s what I imagine an infant feels the moment it shits itself" (Album a Day)
Gregor Kocijančič, Fejzo Košir and Mina Fina all met in Panama City on independent journeys in quest of the enchanted skull of a sudamerican indian boyprince. In a cantina at the foot of a sacred mountain they laughed and laughed and they agreed to chip in for the services of a local shaman whose medicine might reveal the secret location of their quarry. For a bottle of aguardiente and a box of prepaid envelopes, he put them in a trance as they lay on rough reed blankets surrounding a pathetic little fire near his thatched hut on the outskirts of town. Naturally, each of the future members of YGT had the treacherous hope that the portal of insight would open in his/her head alone, thanks to the arcane botanicals. Their connivance proved fortuitous, however, as the shaman they had enlisted was none other than Dionysus in disguise. ‘The liberator’ aka Eleutherios unbeknownst to these selfish crusaders had enlisted them in a plan to join forces and demonstrate for captive audiences the world over the radiant nexus of our inter-sex eroticomusical fixations through a music that invites listeners to come back to the dream. He, Dionysus, wrapped the dreamers up in an invisible shawl that would keep them bound together forever as a quadric chimaera rolling around the world in a tumbleweed of mischief and clairvoyance and smooth future beats couched in sleek, rippling post-pop atomizations. YGT, mirabile dictu, whelped in the asparagus fields of Ljubljana, jam in a bomb shelter under a church.