FFF

A compilation of rhythm, autoregression, routine, tendency, recurrence: find yourself an island on which to find nothing but a panoramic sea. You touch the water here: you listen to the song. Somehow, you are uploading continuous your mind onto the thing before you and you fasten onto a compilation by which each wave comes: ritual, ritual ritual ritual ritual.

The waves are multi-media directives. You understand nothing. All you do is bury your head in the waves, and wait for the air to at some point run out. It never does. And now your feet are patterns in the ground, your thoughts are textures of the moisture in the air.



You listen to a song and all you can remind yourself of is your old friend at some point sandwiched in between pointless chronologies there, with you, playing on the piano, the song that’s always played, the ritual that’s shared with you. The first track does it, but brings in some alienated tempo of melancholy, and also flourishes; the first song is dream translated into a language. That language is spoken explicitly come the second track, and the third. The a f o r e m e n t i o n e d first fathoms in memory like a platform. My train makes the trees like white noise, I remember, I jitter, I remember again once more, my hand onto the table, then window. Autumn spoke to me and now I am this alienated tempo, perhaps. Perhaps I am person after all.

Smiling away the latter pauses of a much beloved rhythm

signed off  optimistically.

… And a return ticket to say this label geht ab. I have been quietly moved by their creations, as with a few other websites that emanate the most attention-deserving developments / relations / I’m impressed, excited.

I look back, I am newly acquainted in the following second by a music that breeds reflection and more reflections and more reflections. The crumpled up day, month, year: they unravel like the units of time they are. I look a little closer and see rhythm like I feel words: the truth is constantly evolving and I feel humbled by the music on this EP to admit that. The extreme, the tempo, the time-tampering artist is a shaman of repetition, the concepts sound almost like a ghost-story, almost like a love-story, certainly like a spiritual distraction: I’m engrossed.

Red Square Duration Real

Hello, things are feeling more and more back – somewhere with a weighing-down head on a neck, some denim shirt, some leggings, some high-heels from Maldova. yello, things are feeling more and more black – somewhere

weighing down and now settling down, feeling like the writings are engulfing something refreshing in my music critique. Ok so we were once 1X years old, now we’re maybe 2X years old: is it okay to latch onto music taste you don’t know to have anymore, to trust it like hell even when the world’s apparently at its ends over and over – I listen to this band that sound between Tokyo Police Club and The Killers, with a kind of Orson outlining. You know that’s just narrative, you know those albums are just me, the albums I managed somehow to hold onto for a little while – where you buy albums and then listen to them like you’d read books.

So maybe it’s nostalgia, complacent nostalgia, but maybe it’s not. And maybe we as music listeners must follow biographical lines in the same way that memories follow timelines – absurd & bizarre – this music syncs with some kind of in-love epistemology that is impossible to throw off, through taste and taste again, through thick and thin, through the opaque air of addiction, gradually getting more into it

The band are from Ireland, that’s awesome somehow how they’re real and playing SXSW in 2016.

NEW ALBUM | MOUNTAIN RANGE

I disembark the daily, I press play, I put the tracks in brackets as they occur like I do with people and thoughts

 

(1. Plans…)
A combination of the electronic pioneering songwriters who made 2010 progressive, taken into the post-scene void of 20thirteen/fourteen, now -exit the void-, orientate, Mountain Range has crafted an album over the period of two years, he released it on Friday.

I have an imperfect (…2. That Home…) anecdote to introduce the whole chronologically bracketed numbered duration of this blog post of these 9 songs of music, transmitted via Left Haunted Records. An anecdote unlike a film, like Goodbye Lenin where the woman falls into a coma before the reunification of Germany and wakes up after. Not like a love-story, like sea and shore where the waves lose their identities in the middle and recollect different ones at the beginning and the (…3. The Quiet…) end. Not like another song, where the mind gets reminded and then distracted and then compares itself to minds it was never going to but was always trying to grasp.

No, yes, this album comes across more through a kind of comforting intimidation, an intimate therapy where parallels lose their categories, categories lose their parallels – Mountain Range is the name upon the durations ajar, the contents are effective to the infinite infinitesimal degree: each bar contains an awry craftsmanship of sound, sounds, sounding together in songs that do nothing less than juxtapose with as much emotional metaphor as my breathing-process can possibly explore without specifically trying, 9 songs of a continually passionate and (…4. Together…) soft rubbing feeling in the inscapes wherever this music is going in, I’m not sure if it’s leaving me any time soon.

Maybe this is what it feels like to exit the void, the finally found parameters by which this decade will find its sense – in the electronic management and releases of musicians like Mountain Range (are there currently musicians like Mountain Range?) who’s output cumulatively transcends the same-old idea of what same-old ideas sound like – I’m talking transcendence through sustained experience of real rhythm and combination, purpose and ultimately the quasi-spiritual moment of confusion which coins the point at which things like these people and sounds are consumed and listened to like anything else, insane 

It’s no coincidence that this review has chronologically come up to this point (5. Circles) and track 5 has begun to play, Circles; you may have already heard it through XLR8R. The thing about MR that makes this song (and the others) so completely real is his knack of arranging songs that sound like entire adventures, I know no other artist who is able to pack so much motion and textural forms into a refrain, a sequence, and also then to arrange these refrains so intricately, beautifully even, the duration of what is often a track, and also in this case an album, pans out like a holy sequence of chronicles of differently dimensioned environments and combinations of senses – if I could imagine the unimaginable sound of someone translating goose bumps into sound then I would point to Mountain Range, press play, and get goose bumps, and it wouldn’t feel contrived. Get goose bumps and it won’t feel contrived.

get out of the void

(6. A Thousand Times Troubles)

It’s difficult to even know what the void was after that paragraph of realisation upon a song upon an album. I want to wrap up my words for literary I want to – let the next realisation take place…

(7. Laniakea)  The -hidden surprise song- where her voice falls through like water – here I am feeling for the Scandinavian context in which I heard Mountain Range, the kind of melancholy landscape electronica from Ole Torjus, Søren Andreasen, and yet it takes me back somewhere almost futural, somewhere almost uncomfortably intimately with this anonymous human vocal sample and piano, they’re definitely falling slowly through like water, it’s difficult to identify whether her vocals are the sample or whether the listener’s thoughts are the samples, and samples of what even? This, it is all real.

(8. This Home)

(9. Be. More.)

A music critic at peace, quietly without writing, songs occupying a silence I didn’t know really existed until it was left upon post-listening like a present
You! Celebrate the 16th October 2015 and engage with one of the most special albums of the last 5 years,
A Thousand Times Troubles, by Mountain Range

Thank-you,

George

Peredur’s thoughts with Wovoka Gentle

It was snowing in Leipzig yesterday, quite heavily.

“And in the evening he entered a valley, and at the head of the valley he came to a hermit’s cell, and the hermit welcomed him gladly, and there he spent the night. And in the morning he arose, and when he went forth, behold a shower of snow had fallen in the night before, and a hawk had killed a wild fowl in front of the cell. And the noise of the horse scared the hawk away, and a raven alighted upon the bird. And Peredur stood, and compared the blackness of the raven and the whiteness of the snow, and the redness of the blood, to the hair of the lady that best he loved, which was blacker than jet, and to her skin which was whiter than snow, and to the two red spots upon her cheeks, which were redder than the blood upon the snow appeared to be.”

‘Peredur the son of Evrawc’, The Mabinogion, translated by C.E. Guest, 1841

So lively, so human, so gently heavy, so extremely thoughtful, brittle, with all many pin-point sorts of rhythms of newly-discovered colours compared in the unmoving mind of another chapter. This band take after the “personal narrative” who meets daily with universal native, tampering electricity on things. A warmth working of a welcoming hermit’s behest, organised and continual like a tale I tell myself sometimes.

I speak from a distance and note the emphasis within the band’s public relations on the promise of  ”performance art instillations and visual projections”, promise of a winter spent in organised emotional transit – the live performance that hermits may only bustle instead, welcome strangers. They headline a show at Electrowerkz in November.

It will all add up if it doesn’t even now.

 

It’s already half past one

I was wanting to write about the above and then saw that its tag was ‘Wilco’ so I asked google if it was a cover and it came up with the below video
The below video is addictive i.e. fulfilling to the max
The above song is sweet too.
But listen the below – is it just me or does the 24 second intro bring a smile to your face
- really working a kind of minimal rock thing going on
The above song is really sweet, a big thing to return to and it addresses something delicate
I like the way the song builds with that most soothing crease/refraining lyric –  ’chemical reaction’
I like soothing and real at the same time
Seriously, though, the below video
Both songs mention cigarettes so now I’m thinking of cigarettes, everything is connected.

I spent the evening writing about economics and this morning I had my second job interview to be an English teacher.
Everything is connected – the video is just generally very well shot – the characters within it are believable somehow even though the plot extends extravagantly / entertainingly

It’s Already Half Past One

Is another pick-out lyric from Gregory Uhlman‘s , the music is inventive, the song is human, the harmonies are relatable. Encompassing that warm brush of the kind of song sound

I was wanting to write about the above
Maybe all I needed was something to juxtapose it with
Next time don’t read too much into a Soundcloud tag, I guess, that’s my lesson
Or do, depends on what the objective really is.

Peace

“the small soft-spoken woman with the big sorrowful voice”

Big-folk band-sound that sounds tight? Female-fronted Unnveig Aas from Oslo… Going from this song called Run, we are softly excited by astute lyricism upon the appropriate rolling drum rolling 3/4 rhythm with the swooning guitar notes and the sympatisch light-heavy emotive communicative way in which she sings many things like “park” and “knew” and “her” and “hands” and  ”too” and “you”. Not to mention a proper bass guitar doing the most reassuring guitar thing from one note to the next – tight.

If it gets me here and now then it would get me there and then as it has apparently already successfully done at festivals across the land, from Norway to Bremen.

That’s about it for now (or then) – the song starts with an appreciated bang and then proceeds to tick this big box-shaped thing somewhere in the imminent present where everything is where it is and this Norwegian Folk hug is ruffling in and around the foreground, big togetherness to boot, easier tried than done, note the subsidiary pause where all the volume calms down and where it’s just her singing before –bang- and away we go-, the chorus! I will be continually loyal to this culture/structure/mould of sound. where the background is imaginably just sips, movements, social, dance-moves!, thoughts, doing their thing, doing their impression, the floor, the nature, the ecstatic energy of backing singers in unison… that’s about it for now… all good.

But it’s not! For these songs would not be as fun as they are if musicians wouldn’t always reveal their art through music videos and the music video for Run is breathlessly beyond cool, taking the story in and around this park that looks as real as it sounds, those perspectives and changing bits of unmemorable shade and that symbolically orange jogger who is imaginably contented with his position within the rom-com.

Being honest, thanks Unnveig Aas 

And their E.P that comes out 9. Oktober.