#add blue filter boom twilight

[psychic-refugee]

It was constantly overcast in the New England town of Jericho, Vermont. It was the perfect place for a family of vampires that sparkled in direct sunlight.

Everyone in town was used to being pale, and because of harsh winters they were covered from head to toe the majority of the year anyway.

The Addams family fit right in.

Wednesday was used to humans fearing her, even before she became a vampire. Despite over a century of attending high school, she never managed to figure out the secret to popularity.

That all changed when she met Xavier Thorpe. He was a friendly face amongst the distrustful.

It took a few meetings to figure out why Xavier was so pleasant to her.

He had absolutely no survival instinct.

Others seemed to get a sense she was a predator, with her dark onyx eyes and skin that sparkled in the sun the few times it broke the cloud cover but convinced themselves they were seeing things.

The Sheriff was convinced the slate of dead bodies popping up in Jericho had something to do with the new family, but he could never find proof.

Xavier always greeted her with a smile and invited her to events with his friends, Ajax and Enid. They could tell something was off about her, but they had never seen their friend as enamored, so they went along with it.

He never seemed to notice she never ate, or that her skin was ice cold when they were in a heated embrace.

He was comfortable enough to fall asleep in front of her, and all she could do was stare longingly at his neck and wished she could bite into it and drink deeply.

Soon enough, he stopped being a potential meal and she recognized him for what he was:

Her soulmate.

She promised herself she would turn him after he turned 18. It was easier to disappear as an adult and she would take him around the world as he adapted to immortality.

As he napped, so trusting and peaceful despite having a killer in his bed, she fondly looked at his long, graceful neck and looked forward to the day she could finally sink her teeth in.

[thesunlounge]

Reviews 335: A Vision of Panorama

When I think of the modern balearic sound, one of the first things that comes to mind is Mikhail Khvasko’s A Vision of Panorama. Across a handful of 12”s, EPs, and LPs on Aficionado Recordings, Music for Dreams, Mellophonia (run by the artist himself), and Chit Chat Records, Mikhail has perfected a soundworld as evocative as his project’s name…a fantasy space evoking lagoons shrouded in rainbow mist, palm jungles overflowing with colorful flowers, caverns carved from ocean cliffs of ruby and emerald, schools of tropical fish dashing through forests of seaweed, speedboat cruises across sparkling expanses of blue, and open-roofed cabanas next to white sand beaches, where dancers move in ecstasy with hands raised towards the stars. Though I’ve featured many of Mikhail’s tracks across this blog, this is the first time I am getting to write about his music in detail, and it couldn’t come at a better moment, for Sentimental Coast sees A Vision of Panorama working with Cala Tarida Musica, a newly established label run by Adam Warped, DJ Nova, and DiBo, three generous souls and trusty sources of new music who have done much to spread the balearic spirit around the world. And for their debut vinyl release, they’ve set Mikhail free to explore his singular world of seaside fantasy, wherein basslines awash in acidic future funk and rhythms touching on boogie, electro, disco, and b-boy breakbeat sit beneath subsuming vistas of new age and jazz fusion majesty, as keyboards constructed from coral crystal and glowing ocean glass solo joyously amidst mermaid choirs and pads that move like a sea of starlight.

A Vision of Panorama - Sentimental Coast (Cala Tarida Musica, 2020) Aquamarine wavefronts waver at the outset of “Atlantic Dawn” while flowing walls of sound are layered with pixie dust. Pressurized drums generate a balearic bounce, with rounded kicks pounding, hypno-clap patterns pushing the body into a sunrise sway, and virtual flutes scatting in celebration. Cracking claps barrel us down further into a disco boogie paradise, with house chords quivering in orgasm and zany slapbass lines slithering into a funk fusion fever dream. Angel breaths carry satellite tracers into the mix and at some point, we erupt into a mesmerizing Rhodes solo, wherein crazed cluster leads alternate with crystalline jazz runs. The rhythms are hyperactive and sometimes push towards amphetamine mania, but the seaside keyboard layers and textures of new age wonderment smooth out the boogie jam intensities. As fusion solo pyrotechnics continue to rain down, synthesizers made from melted glass solo alongside the pianos and pan-pipe pads sing like seabirds while prismatic electronics refract rays of sunlight into smears of feedback. Mikhail revels in heady start/stops and sometimes, every instrument seems to lock in for syncopated fusion descents. And during a beatless outro, brass pads flutter hesitantly, silvery startrails chime across the stereo field, and tide pools overflowing with gemstones sparkle in the light of the titular dawn. Next comes “Mediterranean Tribal” and an intro of tremolo Rhodes romantics and noir synthesizers singing tender songs to the sea. A downbeat break delivers boom bappin’ balearic perfection, with dusty jazz snares cutting up the air and bit-crushed hi-hats smearing into a sunbaked machine hiss. Arpeggiated bubble clouds and feedback tracers arc across the mix until the groove settles down, with the breakbeats cracking beneath sunset atmospherics sourced from floaty tremolo pulsations and dreamy jazz chords. At the track’s center, bleary-eyed leads snake through mystical motions and mediterranean fusion dances, with the filtering and resonance tuned towards shadow. And though layers of oceanic blur obscure the details of Mikhail’s nimble keyboard dances, laser-light leads and space-age spirals occasionally shine through the darkness.

"Sentimental Coast” features pianos like submarine sonars, with agitated note clusters and radiant runs flowing through a new age paradise. Laser oscillations move across the mix, oceanic pads float the soul, and sometimes, the track mysteriously pauses before rushing back into a kosmische wonderland. Ceremonial bass pulses support siren serenades while crickets chirps and Floyd-ian organs swell and eventually, we drop into a stuttering boogie break, with sampled drum hits splayed across the spectrum and hi-hats hissing nervously. Much of the rest of the track proceeds undeterred…the swelling synthscapes and cosmic energy tracers continuing to waver and glide...though the pianos now work through shades of mystic jazz and twilight blues. Elsewhere, orchestral strokes and siren strings reach out into physical space while subdued chord progressions stoke dreamtime body hypnosis. And at some point, the track reduces to smashed drums, insectoid space fx, and a beguiling keyboard performance cutting the difference between new age and free jazz. “Vibechos” begins with fractalized keyboards moving through mad-scientist delays, blurred brass chords opening into solar flares, and a sense of swaying anticipation that eventually releases into a panorama of stick clicks and tom-tom brush strokes. Shakers and idiophonic sunshowers add a narcotic jazz energy until suddenly, one of the best boogie beats of recent memory explodes onto the scene, resulting in the kind of fat-bottomed and future-soaked electrogroove magic you hear coming from Napoli’s West Hill. The whipcrack bass squelches move with a sexualized funk energy, Leslie organs swirl, and vocal pads mimic a sad blues revery sung by mystical sea spirits while elsewhere, chord patterns transmute into a wind of glass while blazing piano leads spiral into earworm fusion hooks and multi-layered waterfalls. Synthesized woodwinds are rendered in soft-focus and a sketchy scratch effect pushes the boogie-soaked electro rhythms towards dancefloor overdrive…the energy anxious while always staying locked in, especially as gemstone riffs descend from the sky to drop funkadelic licks and tropical disco scats.

(images from my personal copy)