#reverie audios sparkles

[poedays]

Gael’s listener had his name tattooed on their shoulder (by Gael himself) and got it laser removed a year after they broke up.

Sorry guys I’m drowning in Gael thoughts and had to unleash one of them. 🫡

I love these guys already.

(Also Mr Sparkles over here better make a reappearance, Altair please)

[nevaroonie]

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

[musicarenagh]

"SPACE" by Regan Pierce: A Cosmic Voyage of Emotion, Melody and Reflection In the music cosmos, sparkling with talents rivaling a star-studded night sky, Regan Pierce's EP 'SPACE' shines brightly as an inviting pop-cultural constellation. With six meticulously crafted tracks, Mr. Pierce has undeniably tethered his art to raw reality, reflecting through song a personal journal of strife and growth within his young 21-year existence. https://open.spotify.com/album/71o4TDkHoEs0RyIvF2rb4q To journey into 'SPACE' is to willingly immerse oneself in a sonic universe where every lullaby-like guitar riff and crestfallen melody weaves its own celestial tapestry. The canvas captures themes of heartbreak and unconditional love, mental health struggles, trust issues, and harrowing tales of abusive relationships - all stitched together with ambient soundscapes that radiate boldly alongside the darker threads of Regan's narrative palette. The opener wafts you gently into this reverie on a smooth slipspace of easy-listening soft rock vibes. It certainly feels akin to laying back on cool grass after dusk, drinking in the astral vista overhead – spellbindingly tranquil yet thought-provokingly profound. Here aboard the spacecraft 'SPACE', indie pop intersects dreamy soft-rock against the backdrop of an indigo landscape etched with twinkling stars. Regan’s vocals are safely nestled within this mix; it finds its place as one amongst many instruments that work together to strike an ethereal accord rather than jarring out as a separate entity competing for attention – much like an astronaut housed within a vessel voyaging across vast cosmic planes. One could hear shades of Bon Iver here reflecting off the mirrors held up by dream-pop visionaries M83 or Beach House; it's hauntingly muted yet tinged with poignancy, resonating unobtrusively throughout each track. [caption id="attachment_52139" align="alignnone" width="1024"] "SPACE" by Regan Pierce: A Cosmic Voyage of Emotion, Melody and Reflection[/caption] Serving as both star navigator and poet laureate of the 'SPACE' expedition, Regan wields his lyrics like a cosmic airstream, steering his listeners through heartfelt narratives. His songwriting is laced with layers of introspective wisdom that seamlessly interweave personal strife with universal experiences – a quality reminiscent of Conor Oberst's emotive expositions. The cogs and gears behind the production deserve a worthy mention here for softly lensing Pierce’s profound emotional explorations into a coherent audio tableau. ‘Space’ dances a balletic fraction-of-Gravity waltz between tight production standards and an intimate DIY aesthetic to its ultimate craftsmanship. Elements like the reverberated guitars emanating dreamy melodies are distilled expertly into this record without losing their essence. Each personalized tale from Regan Pierce's life experience presents itself as another auditory planet within this EP, inviting listeners to traverse and empathize with the artist’s lived struggles. It effortlessly balances depth with simplicity and draws attentive ears deeper into the cosmos of Pierce's mindscape even as it provides comfort in acknowledging shared human experiences. In this vast GALAXY OF MUSIC…Regan Pierce has discovered his own pulsar in ‘SPACE’ that throbs rhythmically; shining brightly with authentic emotion illuminated by soothing vocals, heart-felt lyricism and immersive instrumentals—a testament to the universality yet singularity of each human experience. As we cast our sonic telescopes towards further developments in his musical voyage ahead, we take solace knowing that such honest songs help us navigate our own inner-verses. Follow Regan Pierce on Facebook, Twitter, YouTube and Instagram.

[inherbookishhead]

Through the Veil of Time.

For the last three days, I couldn't get rid of the scene in my head, where the Doctor is in a deathly situation but his raggedy girl comes to rescue. I find the concept of "unlikely companionship" between the War Doctor and the Bad Wolf entity really intriguing (their dynamic was the highlight of the DOTD for me even though it was very different from that of Rose and any other Doctor (who are my ultimate OTP)). I would really love to see and explore some of the moments where these two weird immortals interact, so, basically, I tried to write one of such encounters (and hooray, my first ever piece of fan fiction).

Where am I going with this? Yeah, I guess I’d love to have a War Doctor/Bad Wolf girl audio drama spinoff.

Also available on ao3

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Doctor Who (2005) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: The Doctor (Doctor Who)/Rose Tyler, Bad Wolf/The Moment (Doctor Who), Bad Wolf/The War Doctor (Doctor Who), The War Doctor/Rose Tyler Characters: The War Doctor (Doctor Who), Rose Tyler | Bad Wolf, Bad Wolf (Doctor Who), The Moment (Doctor Who) Summary:

The rare moments in time and space when the paths of the War Doctor and the Bad Wolf cross.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It's almost dawn and, alas, he finds himself surrounded by yet another group of alien enemies. This time, however, they managed to have him completely cornered in the ruins of some who knows when abandoned building. He doesn't know who they are, but he certainly knows what they want to do. Well, at least to him. The Doctor sighs. He feels old, immensely tired of all the fighting he had to endure recently, and so completely done with yet another unnecessary distraction. 

The leader of the gang takes his time to mock the Doctor, clearly enjoying the process and still riding the euphoria of how the tables have turned. In all honesty, however, all affected seem to lose their minds these days. The war, which Time Lords have started, doesn’t show mercy to anyone. 

The alien points a gun at the Doctor and orders him to kneel while his gang is coming closer to enjoy the execution. These creatures, as the Doctor notices, are of humanoid form, tall and strong with their glistening blue skin and a single crooked horn peeking from behind their heads. He wonders for a fracture of a second what purpose that horn serves in the course of their evolution. The aliens, on the other hand, look quite desperate even now, and the Doctor knows that the main reason for their debauch is an enemy, whose name consists of only two words: Time Lords. And the Doctor just happens to be one of them. He obeys the order with a resigned expression, then looks at the angry lot and gives their lead one final warning to stop and go away while they still can. 

The gang leader, blinded as he is by pure hatred, doesn’t listen, of course. No wonder, they rarely do. He makes a pompous speech about finding his purpose in liberating as many worlds as he can. After all, the whole universe is in chaos and about to perish anyway, so his kind can finally become the force the universe needs to set the things in the right way, which naturally means, in their own twisted way, and not without sacrifices. He briefly mentions the other nine galaxies that had to be wiped clean, and the Doctor slowly starts to lose his patience. In the end, the young man wonders how such a feeble old misunderstanding of a being can be a Time Lord, and asks, eventually, if the dusty old grandpa has some last words to say before he dies in this forgotten ugly place, all alone and without a single soul to mourn him. The grandpa in question perks up at that.

“Me?” the Doctor gives a chuckle and shakes his head in what looks like an amused disappointment. “Oh, dear boy," he rasps, "what in the whole universe made you think I’m alone?” 

The boy is surely a man, and certainly not dear. He knows it, and that is why he switches off the safety on his weapon. His sneer fades as he pulls the trigger and fires a bullet aiming right into the Doctor’s head. 

His eyes, however, grow even wider as said bullet turns out to be stuck in a time loop right in front of the Doctor’s forehead. After a moment of complete silence, the gang leader hears screams of his fellow mates and his eyes catch a moving silhouette a few feet behind the Doctor. Soon he can outline its details: the creature appears to be a rather short female, whose old saggy clothes are so torn they barely stick to her body. Her expression, though, tells a different story. It is tense and utterly angry, her wild eyes are ready to kill with their golden gleam. 

The Doctor looks for a while at the blinking motion of a bullet that makes its rounds in desperate attempts to reach his head but gets immediately thrown back again, and then turns his attention back to the leader.

“Have you met my friend here?” the Doctor says in the most unperturbed voice imaginable. 

The alien points the gun on his new target, but the raggedy creature splashes a wave of golden light that knocks down his whole gang at once. One by one they start dissipating into the piles of dust until the remnants of the last blue-skinned creature are floating down in the dimming light.

The Doctor gets up from his knees without turning to look at the woman.

“Thought you might show up,” he says casually then goes to the pile of dust that used to be a hostile living being just some moments ago, crouches over it, and scoops some grains with his fingers.

“You know, one of those days you might be the one to finally bite it,” the woman remarks, pointedly looking at the dust on the Doctor's fingers as she approaches him. She offhandedly gestures towards the bullet to release it from its little temporal trap, and it crashes into the nearest wall with a final bright sparkle. 

The Doctor considers her words for a while, then looks at her and smiles, “Nah, young lady, I had it all perfectly under control.” He stands up and dusts his hands off.

"Oh, did you now?" she muses. The girl still looks quite menacing with her glowing eyes and messy hair, but the corners of her mouth turn slightly up. 

"Oh, come off it, Bad Wolf girl," he pretends to chastise. "What would you do for the fun of it, if you didn't have to save this old man every once in a while?" 

A part of him still feels like a prey she keeps playing with and expects her to make that deathly leap at any moment. The other part of him just loves her company. 

"You are turning it into a full time job, Doctor", she counters back, smiling.

"Don't call me that," he pleads quietly, his expression earnest, "You know my name." He averts his gaze and starts looking at the morning sun peeking above the horizon.

"I've got to go," she says with a hint of sadness, "Next time, be a darling and try to stay out of trouble. It will be over soon, I promise." That's the only reassurance she can give, whatever "it" or "soon" really means.

The meditative silence that settles is a comforting moment to kick off the day.

"Suppose I am a darling," the Doctor continues after a while, holding his hands behind his back, and squinting his eyes, still stubbornly examining the sun, "would you visit me sometime when I am not at the brink of death?"

She ponders.

"Maybe, one day," she surprises him with her answer, "if you behave, that is."

Now he is ninety-seven percent certain she is mocking him. He shakes his head. After all, he concludes, someone finally finds him amusing for a change.

"I always wanted to go to Barcelona, you know. An interesting planet, they say," he still faces the sun. She nods, then abruptly stops, puzzled, then nods again. 

"Dogs with no noses?" her question sounds more like a statement.

"Dogs with no noses," he genuinely laughs. 

The Bad Wolf girl takes one of his hands and turns her gaze to the sun the Doctor is so preoccupied with. They stay like that for a while. Then, the cold wind blows and wakes the Doctor out of his reverie. He looks at his now empty hand and returns it to the other behind his back. The Time Lord takes a deep breath, throws one last glance at the rising sun, and turns around, ready to meet the day.

[thesunlounge]

Reviews 344: Oto No Wa

I’m overjoyed to write again about Music for Dreams’ “Serious Collector Series,” not only because this run of compilations has produced some of the best vinyl sets of the past few years in the form of Jan Schulte’s Tropical Drums of Deutschland, Moonboots’ Moments in Time, and Basso’s Proper Sunburn, but also because the newest such collection, Oto No Wa: Selected Sounds of Japan 1988 - 2018, features a trio of curators who have all influenced this blog in significant ways. Listed first on the breathtaking cover is Ken Hidaka, who in addition to having a storied career as a DJ, journalist, and international record label liaison, has had a significant hand in coordinating many of my favorite reissues from the past few years…things such as Gigi’s Illuminated Audio on Time Capsule and Yutaka Hirose’s Nova + 4 on WRWTFWW, not to mention facilitating serenitatem…that spellbinding collaboration between Yoshio Ojima, Satsuki Shibano, and Visible Cloaks released last year on RNVG Intl. Then there’s Max Essa, one of the premiere practitioners of the balearic beat, whether it’s remixing tracks into euphoric seaside cruisers or producing expansive original works such as “Panorama Suite” for Is It Balearic?, the Lanterns LP for Music for Dreams, or his recently concluded trio of EPs for Hell Yeah Recordings: Themes From The Hood, The Cad & The Lovely, Haz Zan Roc, and The Great Adventure. And finally comes Dr. Rob, a far-ranging musical adventurer and gifted wordsmith whose reviews, interviews, mixes, and stories spread across Test Pressing and Ban Ban Ton Ton showed me entirely new ways to write about music, with his expressive poetics, deep references, and inimitable sense of cleverness rising far beyond standard music criticism and going a long way towards inspiring the creation of this very website.

As far as the music comprising Oto No Wa is concerned, Dr. Rob gives some background at Ban Ban Ton Ton, where he speaks of the trio meeting after one of their Lone Star nights at Bar Bonobo and compiling an initial list of some 200 hundred fantasy selections, which was miraculously whittled down to just 20 tracks. But then, the typically unflinching Japanese record label ecosystem slashed that list to all but nothing, leading Ken, Max, and Dr. Rob to reconsider the entire experience. I like to think that this was ultimately for the better, for in reworking the concept and flow of Oto No Wa, our trio of selectors struck upon the brilliant idea to, in the words of Dr. Rob, ”plot a course from pioneers, through to younger generations who`ve picked up the baton,” resulting in a spectacular set of balearic eclecticism focused on the 90s and 00s, which are periods often missed in the world of Japanese archival reissuing. Indeed, in contrast to the environmental ambiance, city pop, fusion, and jazz so often considered, the sounds here lean much closer to the romantic seaside vibrations of Flower Records’ Silent Dream CD mixes and the Ibizan chill out comps of React, as house beats are repurposed for summer fusion sways, sun-dappled ivories seek out a panoramic horizon, strummed acoustics jangle in an island breeze, electric guitars slide across cinematic deserts, dubwise basslines stroll down white sand beaches, chamber strings play themes for impossible sunsets, and steel pans bring touches of Caribbean splendor. Elsewhere, balafons dance through tropical forests, oceanic soundbaths wash the spirit clean, deep sea explorations transmute into Berlin school magic, and ceremonial drum layers surround barely there violin reveries, with the entire experience being bookended by a pair of kankyō ongaku drifters.

Oto No Wa: Selected Sounds of Japan 1988-2018 (Music for Dreams, 2020) Yoshio Ojima’s “Sealed,” the sole track here from the 80s, comes from the second volume of the producer’s now legendary Une Collection Des Chaînons: Music For Spiral collection and sees glowing hazes moving in slow motion…these harmonious swells mimicking the motions of some celestial sea while textures of digital crystal twinkle overhead. The vibe is hopeful and soothing, though there are moments where the swelling drones turn minor key and melancholic and the glass and gemstone atmospheres get caught in hyperspeed delay trails. But we always return to the floating stretches of major key majesty, with the music perfectly suited to scoring the motions of clouds across the sky or leaves drifting down a stream. And like many of Ojima’s tracks, there is a false ending…a fade to silence preceding a rebirth, wherein the melodic textures from before are reconfigured into mysterious forms…as if the cerulean sky scene mentioned earlier has been washed out by moody grey rainclouds. The original mix of Olololop’s “Mon” revels in washy 90s post-rock atmospherics, with increasingly free ambient jazz drumming underlying cascading pianos and plucked harps. And while the “orte Remix” by Kumi Hayashi and Takaaki Suzuki preserves many of these elements, the vibe here is more oriented towards classical chill out. The beats are rigid and slamming as they lock into a mechanized seaside swing, with the original’s jazz drumming fluidity replaced by pounding kicks, panning ride taps, and sketchy shaker patterns. Piano and harp flow into the stereo field, dropping plucked rays of golden harmony and washes of ivory ethereality before settling into a balearic dreamdance, one carried by gentle trance electronics and layers of droning bass positivity. At some point the rhythms pull away and we find ourselves in an extended beatless bliss out, wherein melodies of ocean crystal pulse around melodious harp motions, abstracted kick taps flutter on echo breezes, and pan-pipes sparkle in the distance. And later, the mix reduces to an industrial downbeat drum sway and a ceremonial hum of subdued choral mesmerism as the piano continues merging vibes of new age fusion and beachside romance.

Among my favorite cuts here is Kazuya Kotani’s “Fatima,” coming from the 2007 CD Made in Love. Seed shakers and rainsticks roll through echo machines, oceanic string panoramas shift in phase, and bongos and congas beat out a seaside beat as a cooing voice whispers sweet nothings in a way reminding me of Sth. Notional’s “Yawn Yawn Yawn (Dream… Another Reality Mix)”. Bulbous basslines bring touches of gentle dub exotica and a glorious chill out breakbeat swings with infectious forward momentum even as it lands like air, while pianos shimmer and shine via wavering chord mirages and prismatic delay leads that presage Coyote’s use of the instrument. The way everything locks in is so perfect, with hand drums bopping alongside the seaside breakbeat cruise and angelic strings glowing beneath sparkling ivory dreamspells…the whole thing coming together like some prototypical cut from one of José Padilla’s Cafe del Mar compilations or a Phil Mison curated Real Ibiza collection. At some point the drums pull away, leaving behind soft piano flutters, breathy whispers, and overlapping waves of orchestral resonance. And when the beats return, they are joined by heartwrenching chamber string progressions…a sort of swooning dance of cinematic sunset majesty before the track effortlessly glides back towards beachside chill out perfection. The B-side opens with “N.I.C.E. Guy” by Scha Dara Parra, who Dr. Rob describes in the liner notes as “Japan’s answer to the Beastie Boys.” The “Nice Guitar Dub” of the track presented here takes us into the world of the Major Force dance collective, and sees house kicks, hand drum loops, and clipped snares underlying lysergic repetitions of “feel good / checking things out” before dropping into a summery groove led by walking sunshine jazz bass, Hiroshi Fujiwara’s acoustic guitar strums, and Hirofumi Asamoto’s piano…a sort of ambient honky tonk cascade scoring some lagoon adjacent saloon. Occasionally, heavenly strings blow through the stereo field to envelop the vocal samples and there’s a strange midtro given over to urgent stick clicks and rimshots while towards the end, b-boy drum cut-ups and turntablist flourishes disturb the flow.

Little Tempo is an ever shifting group of dub and reggae explorers led in part by Takeshi “Tico” Toki and his shimmering steel pan. The collective has played the world over and released an impressive number of albums since the mid-90s, one of which is Ron Riddim, a 2xLP from 1999 containing the track “Frostie.” A stoner beat moves beneath a tropical panorama of steel drumming, with hi-hats occasionally opening, shekeres scraping, and snares pushing through granular reverb, and as we drop into the groove, liquid dub basslines pulse and slide while a piano glistens in the moonlight. The ivory performance is powerful and awash in twilight romance and noir mystery, sometimes dancing in solo and other times accented by glimmering steel pan flourishes. Elsewhere, the pianos are replaced by electric guitars, which let loose bluesy slides and space western leads…the mixture of desert twang and equatorial riddim strongly evoking the dubbier sides of Tortoise. There’s a moment where the track gives over to martial snare intensity as amphibian lasers and telephonic tracers fire across the sky, with the latter sound pulling my mind to the work of Eddie C. And eventually, the track settles into a sort of bluesy reggae zone out, with subsonic basslines skanking and dubwise drums smacking while wavering steel drum mirages surround spaghetti western slides in the style of Doug McCombs. Karel Arbus & Eiji Takamatsu will of course be well familiar to readers of this blog, both for their amazing Some Backland Plaze tape on Max Essa’s Jansen Jardin and for that completely stunning rework of Cantoma’s “Kasoto” from last year. “Coco and the Fish,” taken from the aforementioned cassette, sees idiophones splashing through sea spray while enigmatic electronics swirl in the background…like a vortex of kosmische wonderment pulsating in colors of deep purple and blue, one that occasionally opens up to reveal deep house chord stabs. It’s hard to say whether the main instrument played is marimba or balafon, but either way, it’s a hyperkinetic performance exuding an energy at once meditative and ecstatic...all while phaser wisps, starshine sparkles, and hidden voices swirl in the distance.

I first heard globetrotting DJ and Flower Records alum Kentaro Takizawa courtesy of Phil Mison and his Pure Ibiza 2xCD set released by I Label in 2008, which included the “Silent Dream Version” of the song taken from the aforementioned Silent Dream compilation. Originally though, the track closed Takizawa’s album Gradual Life from 2006, and this is the version included here. Ride cymbals shine amidst glorious murmurations of ambient synthesis while percussive eco fx mimic the songs of lizards and toads. Elecrosnares rocket across the spectrum, beauteous acoustic guitar arps fall like summer rain, and further six-string solos move in counterpoint, with subdead leads mesmerizing the mind. As psychoactive threads of static surround decaying triangles, sundowner string orchestrations ascend towards the clouds, causing the heart to soar in that Sacha Putnam or Vangelis kind of way, and when the beat drops, it’s a lackadaisical sway led by rolling bongos and tapped cymbals. Guitars dance playfully over a backdrop of fourth world alien magic and ever so often, filmic string themes diffuse into the spectrum. Elsewhere, the drums wash away, leaving e-pianos to execute breathtaking descents before disappearing into a synthesized mirage. Rainsticsk flow over the stereo field as the track evolves even further towards new age bliss, with a harmonious conversation of acoustic guitar sunshine proceeding in a fantasy jungle, wherein sunlight reflects off of glistening palm fronds and tropical birds sing intoxicating songs. And after returning to the bopping rhythms and tapestries of chill out exotica, the tracks ends with guitars being replaced by pianos while mermaid pads whoosh through a sunbathed rainforest setting. Mystical percussionist Yoshiaki Ochi inhabited similar circles to Yoshio Ojima, releasing through NEWSIC and seeing his music played, like Ojima’s, at the arts center of Wacoal lingerie company, otherwise known as Spiral. In “Balasong,” taken from 1990’s Natural Sonic, balafons bounce playfully while executing Steve Reich-style pattenrs of minimalist exotica. The drunken daydream motions and otherworldly idiophone polyrhythms are occasionally interspersed by fast motion twiddles and rapid fire rolls, while at the edge of the mix gourds buzz and textures of metal sparkle…perhaps the ghostly chiming of temple bells.

Kaoru Inoue is a hugely influential figure who for decades has been perfecting his own esoteric combination of house, techno, ambient, and spiritual world music. “Wave Introduction” was originally released on the artist’s 2006 album Slow Motion before being repurposed as the opener for one of my favorite albums ever released: Inoue’s horizontal masterpiece Em Paz released in 2018 on Groovement Organic. The track features the relaxing sounds of waves crashing to shore, joined by twinkling synths, distant foghorns, and psychosonic liquid drips, which eventually transmute into a Reich-ian dream sequence awash in textures of mermaid crystal. Undulating bass arps support slow moving pads that drift like cosmic fog while rhythmic wisps of laser static tickle the mind and the whole thing takes on the feeling of a drunken dream dance that slowly moves towards ambient rapture. The influential Flower Records and its founder Eitetsu Takamiya are represented here by the highly sought after “Scuba” under Takamiya’s Little Big Bee alias. Psychedelic bubble clouds blow over Kenji Jinguiji’s slithering bass guitar romantics and the e-pianos of Plaza Fujisaki glow with a sort of new age spirituality while Hawaiian guitars slide across a sunburst sky. A hushed house beat is accented by gentle clacks and seed shaker pulses as Jinguji’s lowslung basslines lock into a balearic fusion dance replete with vocal slides up the fretboard and as the pacific breeze guitar slides swim between solar organ dub chords, spaceage arpeggiations flitter all around. I detect a definite lean towards The Orb’s early merging of dub, ambient, and techno, with a stereo field colored through by cut-off motions, resonance flares, and whalesong pads that settle into a haze of golden light. The beats cut away momentarily, leaving filtering cosmic synthetics, pulsing organ accents, and emotive basslines while stick clicks build a rainshower rhythm. Seafoam siren synths swell in strength and subsume the entire mix as angels breath rainbow mist across universal expanses and eventually, a liquid guitar slide reintroduces the south pacific chill out groove, which now features hyperkinetic click cascades.

Coastlines, the duo of Masanori Ikeda and Takumi Kaneko, are huge favorites around here and given that I reviewed their cover of Ralph MacDonald’s “East Dry River” when it was originally released as a 7” back in 2018, I’ll present a modified version of my words from that time: Joyously ascending piano chords and deep vocal bass percussions set the scene before we smash cut into a smooth coastal fusion jam, as tambourines and toms pound beneath radiant piano strokes and synthetic steel drum dances while four four house kicks and luscious sub-basslines move the body. Angels bring touches of pure euphoria as they rain down from the sky, and elsewhere, fretless bass solos wiggle above the island rhythm dreamscape…the Motohiko Hamase-style note clusters and liquiform slides trailing under subtle ping-pong delays while colorful hand drum accents evoke slow-motion dancing on some fantasy beach. There’s a brief moment where everything washes away, leaving lush piano chords and sparkling steel pans adrift in solitude, and later, after returning to the seaside house rhythms and melodic textures of jazz fusion fantasy, we are treated again to a crazed fretless bass solo, one that grows ever more frantic and chaotic before finally dispersing. Though beloved producer Susumu Yokota is no longer with us, his memory lives on via his profound influence and his intrepid bridgings of academic ambient and techno body pressure, not to mention archival projects such as the Jon Tye-assisted Cloud Hidden from 2019. “Uchu Taniyo” is taken from Yokota’s 1999 album Sakura and begins with a voice pushing through clouds of reverb as ritualistic percussion builds from the depths. Hand drums and wooden clacks lock into a ceremonial dance kissed by cosmic fx and growling ambient forms swirl into the stereo field…these morphing tremolo gurgles imbued with atmospheres of melancholy. Voices continue babbling as a violin enters the scene, letting loose folksy melodies and post-classical whispers that barely break through the layers of rhythmic repetition. And as the track comes to an end, the exotica drum webs fade out as frogsong electronics decay into the void.

The vibe continues to spread out towards horizontal ambiance in “Time and Space,” a track exclusive to this compilation from the duo of Isao Kumano and Kenichi Takagi, who are often found working with Alex from Tokyo in Tokyo Black Star, but who here appear in their “secretive” Chillax guise. Crystallized sequences, smoldering static waveforms, and hazes of ocean either intertwine as chiming melodies ascend on unseen currents towards a sun soaked sea surface, and I can’t help but think of the underwater kosmische of Iury Lech and Miguel Noya, as well as the seafloor ambient excursions of Shelter on Profondeur 4000 and Private Agenda on Île de Rêve. Soft focus chord bursts breath ambient house ether into the mix while tick-tocking arps build slowly in the background, eventually growing in strength and taking over the mix as the vibe flows from deep sea drifting to Berlin school melodrama, wherein searing filter motions surround the spirit and vocoder cyborgs chant amidst subsuming chord decays. I’ve said much about Takashi Kokubo across this blog, though thus far everything has been focused around his hugely influential Get at the Wave. And given how well mined that album is by now, I’m quite thankful that Ken, Max, and Dr. Rob have opted instead for “Quiet Inlet,” a track appearing on Kokubo’s Eternity from 2006. Waves lap gently against the shore of some hidden island scene...a place of peace and picturesque beauty known only to the fish, reptiles, and birds. A calming piano lullaby enters the scene, marrying Satie-like ambiance and Riley-ian minimalism while digital colorations and e-piano bubble clouds flit all around. A choir of angelic sirens bathe the mix in vocal radiance while bell trees mimic sunlight refractions on the ocean’s surface and after a false ending, the dreamscape ivory cascades, pointillist e-piano melodies, and heavenly choirs return, with everything shrouded by pearlescent pad layers and gaseous blankets of reverb. Windchimes blow on a sea breeze and periodic swells of mermaid magnificence work into the mix and as the sampled waves continue their motions, they lull the mind towards daydream visages of the titular seaside paraiso.

(images from my personal copy)

[thesunlounge]

Reviews 259: Robert ÆOLUS Myers

In 2017, Hawaiian archivists Aloha Got Soul released A Retrospective, introducing me and many others to ambient starmaster and spiritual healer Robert ÆOLUS Myers. Existing within the broader new age tradition though also standing apart from it, ÆOLUS’ music is borne of deep communion with nature and the exploratory possibilities of electronic synthesis, with fluttering arpeggiations, dreamwave sequences, and ethnological rhythms supporting cloudform symphonies and mystical flute improvisations. And though those descriptors could apply to any number of indistinct massage parlor soundtracks, ÆOLUS has always maintained that he makes “new age music to wake up to,” with an intense focus on helping the listener realize their inner sense of truth. Going beyond this, his music exudes a sense of magical adventure, and the sonic universes that unfold across A Retrospective work as well for soundtracking fantasy kingdom explorations, starscape space journeys, twilight jungle dances, underwater forest treks, and psychedelic vision quests as they do for therapeutic purposes. So even though new age is a fair description for the work of ÆOLUS, I sense a closer sonic kinship with the Hearts of Space sound centered around artists such Michael Stearns, Kevin Braheny, and Steve Roach as well as Klaus Schulze’s Innovative Communication, especially Software’s work with flautist Toni Schneider.

To better understand ÆOLUS’ sonic world, it helps to trace his artistic path, which began with playing clarinet as a teenager in Ohio and bassoon during his studies at San Diego State. Like many California-based surf rats of the time, Myers was lured to the sparkling waves and paradise beaches of Hawaii, where he also played drums and completed a degree in ethnomusicology. Following this, he abandoned the world of percussion to join the Honolulu Symphony as a bassoonist, a setting which proved important to a developing experimental, new age, and space music scene in Hawaii driven by Jai Ma Music and Global Pacific Records. Indeed, the Honolulu Symphony also provided work for violinist Steve Kindler and his brother Bob, a cellist and audio engineer who would go on to produce and collaborate on many of Jai Ma’s and Global Pacific’s early records, including ÆOLUS’ Aeolian Melodies and Rays. And for while, it must have seemed like Hawaii was on the verge of establishing a fertile creative community, one that also included avant-garde sound artist Nelson Hiu and guitarist Paul Greaver. But it was not to be, for when Global Pacific uprooted and moved to California, many of the musicians followed, and once Hiu departed for Hong Kong in 1985, ÆOLUS was left on the islands to chart his own artistic path through the cosmos. 

The years since that dizzying period of collaborative creativity have seen Myers furthering his studies of devotional music and indigenous cultures while also continuing to release albums and perform live through a variety of contexts, including dance pieces and theater performances. And his talents in sonic healing have never stopped developing and now find broader expression through the practice of depth psychotherapy in the “alchemical tradition of Jung.” Which brings us to Talisman, a new and lovingly curated retrospective and re-interpretation project released by Origin Peoples. In keeping with the label’s tendency towards the left-hand path, this 2xLP set is unlike most archival compilations and augments its collection of previously released tracks from The Magician and High Priestess with an unreleased dreamscape, a breathtaking live performances from New York City in 1987, and most striking of all, contemporary interpretations of ÆOLUS’ music by K. Leimer, Pharaohs, Dreems, and Lieven Martens Moana. Thus Talisman both compliments A Retrospective and shows the ways in which Myers’ art has reverberated out through time, providing seeds for everything from fractal foam kosmische to jazz folk balearica to mutating deep house to fourth-world sonic collage.

Robert ÆOLUS Myers - Talisman (Origin Peoples, 2019) “Oracle,” coming from 1993’s High Priestess, sees universal bass currents pulsating with ominous intent while being swirled around by cosmic breaths. Kalimbas and bell-chimes decay across spacious expanses before blooming into mermaid choirs and a fourth world rhythm ritual fades into being, built around rimshot cascades, tom tom ceremonials, white noise shakers, and ethnological hand drums transformed into exo-planetary fluids. Overheard, alien pan-pipes slide in ways that defy logic and feedback vapors arc across the sky...all while synthesized orchestrations glow with ethereal shadow energy. “High Priestess” follows with wisps of spectral feedback swimming through the void as string synthesizers fade in, with Schulze-ian viol reveries flowing above swelling cellos and contrabass drones. As threads of cosmic melancholia wrap around the body, a simple and obscured drum rhythm emerges, generated by tribal tom tom pulsations and danced over by synthesized idiophones and exotic music box lullabies. Atmospheres of psychotropic minimalism and exotica are repurposes for space age exploration, with flashes of cold blue light moving within the miasma of galactic sound. At some point the mood changes drastically and the air grows humid and tropical as propulsive hand drums pan across the mix. Afro idiophonics are joined by pinging Berlin school arpeggiations and knocking percussive tones while electro-claps crack through reverb caverns and all throughout the mix, bending woodwinds weave rainforest incantations and majestic string hazes obscure the dances of mysterious jungle fauna. 

As far as I can tell, Talisman is the first place “Dreamscape from the Night Kitchen” has appeared and the piece starts with crystalline strands of new age liquid floating within a haze of angel synthesis. Arpeggiations dance through exotic lullaby patterns and hand drums are heard through soft liquid layers while ominous currents of bass energy swell in and out of the mix. Hypnagogic hallucinations and moonlight forest rituals are evoked by ÆOLU’S flute performance as longform breaths of melodic mysticism evolve into sprightly elven dances. Colorful prism formations refract unseen light sources throughout the background, generating chiming decays that flutter through reverb oceans. And there’s a distinct sense of sitting within some spiritual sci-fi cavern where liquids made of glass drop into glowing pools of ether. As the track progresses, it sometimes floats in a relaxing state of hypnosis, while at other times, things move with a mysterious sense of purpose as subsonic pulsations hint at a dark ambient ceremony. Then in “Sunset,” taken from 1989’s The Magician, wisps of white light swim through cricket chirps while a zheng weaves dreamy rainbow incantations encompassing bending plucks and harp-like waterfalls. Spectral vapors move across the stereo field and sometimes blend seamlessly into the continuous insect orchestrations while up above, flutey synths lock into a sequential fantasy bounce. The vibe is transportive, otherworldly, and aligns with the recent work of Meitei in the sense that futuristic atmospheres are transformed into ancient sonic environments. 

Another track exclusive to Talisman is “Embrace,” presented as live version from 1987 in New York City that perfectly exemplifies what a powerful performer ÆOLUS was. Aqueous synth waves splash across the spectrum while a universal hum of drone modulation flows through the stereo field. Bleary piano chords decay over the watery ambiance and their freeform fantasias, atonal note clusters, and gentle jazz adventures drift eternally throughout the track. Heavenly atmosphere flow in, though distorted and threatening to spill over into white light feedback and bass textures grow increasingly present and unsettled…their fast motion vibrato wobbles disturbing the hallucinatory float. Feedback melodies scream across the sky as everything momentarily swells together while elsewhere, mermaid pan-pipes dance through future ocean kingdoms and childlike sea-spirits join the new age sound bath with wordless choral ecstasies that float upwards on unseen sea currents. Eventually, intimately blown flutes journey across the mix with overlapping dream enchantments and fragile melodies that hover in place before dispersing like a mirage. And for the rest of the track’s length, ÆOLUS executes a breathtaking trade off between mystical woodwind magic and shrieking blasts of feedback euphoria…all proceeding through an underwater paradise of pianos, choral arias, and subsuming synth fogs. 

The first reinterpretation of ÆOLUS’ work comes from K. Leimer, who presents his “Temporary & Indefinite” edit of “Environment.” Sequential synth bubbles float through space foam fuzz and Cluster-leaning lullabies are smothered in a fourth world heatwave haze. Controlled clicks, static pops, and unidentifiable scrapes float through that air while industrial hums, factory drones, and machine breaths set the stage for blissed out tapestries of smeared brass and vocals…these wisps of symphonic magic emerging from nothingness and growing into shimmering baths of sonic transcendence, with melodic movements paying tribute to the sunrise. Everything is blurry and indistinct…as if seen through a polychrome fog...while bell tones decay and trace behind them harmonious trails of light. Scraping strings are beamed in from a faraway galaxy and layered cellos sweep the heart to lands of fantasy romance before pulling away into silence, leaving the body afloat in a void of burning ambiance and vibrating metal. Spare shaker rattles hit and percussive detritus floats while orchestral swells grow increasingly distorted, eventually giving over completely to bowed string tonalities. Deep in the ether, tamburas are manipulated into droning insect psychedelia and FM crystals melt into liquid lightforms before everything morphs into a methodical fade out of Indian drone mysticism…like Pandit Pran Nath playing from within a black hole.

It’s mostly been silence from the Pharaohs camp since the release of 2017’s In Oeland, but they make a welcome return here with their “Sadhana Environment (Mana Mix)”. Crashing cymbals introduce sun-soaked folk guitar energetics while tropical bass synths wiggle through water waves and acidic bubbles blow in a warm breeze. Electric guitars loop hypnotically high in the sky before giving way to solar synthesis and layers of hand percussion dance through sea-spray…all while sampled waves crash to shore. Synthetic tones of plucked crystal weave equatorial dream melodies, jazzy acoustic guitar solos move in counterpoint to the jaunty riffs, and heatwave swells cycle all around as feedback tracers drop globs of rainbow glass. At some point, otherworldly vocalisms enter…that characteristic and wholly unique way that Pharaohs uses the human voice…mystical, tribal, joyous…with wordless scats and LSD babbles floating within a cloud of balearic exotica. Electric guitar mantras slide towards the sky over prog fusion basslines and kick drums and crashing static cymbals enter at some point, giving the groove a more defined shape. It’s a swaying jam through aquamarine tide pools, wherein smoldering six-string blues solos are repurposed into island paradise magic while vibrant cymbal splashes and pulsating drum fills join together for a narcotizing ocean jazz groove out.

Dreems’ “Natürliche Liebe” remix of “Sadhana Environment” sees a four-four beat underlying glowing glass windchimes and robotic house basslines, all thick tubular tones jacking upwards. Strange sonic vapors and bodies of incandescent gas flow alongside jungle frog squelches, hand drums bounce off of neon palm fronds, marbles made of electricity oscillate out of control, and glowing hypo-sequences join together with skittering noise textures to generate a double-time pulse while a feverish theme plays out on drunken pad modulations. New age mermaid choirs are transmuted into deep house hypnosis as martial snare rolls portend some dark club explosion, but Dreems subverts this expectation by cutting away all rhythms, instead leaving the body to float amongst silvery chime strands, aqueous bass euphorias, galactic lasers, and deep space spirit communications. Eventually, we flash into a minimal expanse of drug dance magic, wherein kick drums and flubby basslines are accented by rolling hand percussion, pinging echo fx, and fractal smears. Claps and snares give the militant stomp a swinging sense of groove while post-modernist dub panoramas rattle around the mix…a sort of Chain Reaction-style weirdness abstracted even further into extra-terrestrial sorcery. Heatwave pads introduce another rhythmic drop, wherein cave liquids, disjointed snaps, universal bass pulsations, and industrial chants waver through dream mutations. And as a crazed starlight sequence fades in from nothingness, the kicks resume their march beneath post-house cymbal fire and mutant acid stabs.

The final version of “Sadhana Environment” comes in the form of Lieven Martens Moana’s “Oahu Suite,” which proceeds like a hallucinatory collage tied together by birdsong and insect chatter. Contrabass drones fade in from the center of existence and generate waves of La Monte Young-style minimalism, which fade into arcs of bowed metal and space sirens evoking the piercing communications of 2001’s monolith. Scraping textures and feedback noises swim through bodies of water while radiophonic explorations devolve into burning waves of laser light. Sickly waverings and mosquito buzzes flow through tremolo transformations as bulbous bass clouds waver into the void. Shadow visions of hand percussion develop into rainforest drum rituals and Shepard-Risset glissando fx scream across the sky, with everything fading out as soon as it begin. Back in the world of primitive electro-experimentation, caterwauling static blends into dark liquids lapping against an alien shore and vibratory metal abstractions are smothered in ringing reverb as they swell into a towering noise assault, which then gives way to a dreamwaltz through deep sea forests. Machine spirits laugh and sing, pianos are mimicked by ring modulators, and “High Priestess” is evoked through a cloud of smoke while elsewhere, timpani drums, horror string cascades, and marimba exotics are destroyed by blasts of searing noise. Towards the end, we return to the bowed string fantasias…the deep and methodical double bass energies now joined by melodious cellos weaving glorious dawn incantations. And as it all comes to a close, waves crash to shore and birds sing in the sky. 

(images from my personal copy)