Poppy Ackroyd – Resolve

poppyackroyd

Everything happened at once. I couldn’t make sense of it all so I split it up into a series of events that seemed connected, which I tried to experience in succession in the hope that this would render it sensible, but the information was still too intense, so I fractured myself into myriad perceptual units so as to take in one little fragment at a time, but even these chunks were unmanageable so I had to imagine new and unheard of angles from which to perceive so as to widen the scope of the possibilities unto almost infinity as far as I could make out. Even then, I had to get the separate units to reproduce themselves at regular intervals, and still the information kept on coming. Indeed, it seemed it was expanding to fill every perceptual space I was creating. I needed to think of a new format.

Advertisements

Cremation Lily – Radiance and Instability

cremation lily
The word ‘myself’ implies that the self is a possession. Discuss.
.
Reality is very close to the ultimate illusion; very few people question it.
.
Don’t try to engage my enthusiasm on a Monday. My enthusiasm spends the day in its bed. It likes long weekends.
.
Words are a lot like statistics. You can use them to prove anything. You can also use them to disprove anything.
.
Is that really my mind? It looks so unfamiliar from the outside.

Cozmic Corridors- Cozmic Corridors

cozmic

Is the collective unconsciousness conscious of itself? Does that not make it the collective consciousness?

“Good day at the office, dear?”

“Yes, ta. I managed to connect Jung, de Chardin and Lovelock in one concept leading to a Brahmanistic realisation – I could have imagined it being said by Alan Watts.”

Perhaps he did say it, but probably without all the name dropping.

Lotto – VV

lotto

We approached the castle, our intentions clearer than our exit plan, under the cover of a cloudless sky. We sought to bring words to the wordless, but their defence of silence was much stronger than anticipated, so we tried again at a later day, under a Godless sky, bringing conversion weapons full of disposal. The fabric of our reality was thinner than our thoughts, however, and soon we were plunged into a shallow abyss, the edges as near as they were closed. We sat and reasoned, how can we escape? ‘Let’s go into the castle,’ I suggested, and the drawbridge lowered, empty of defence. In we went, no longer intentional. The king was waiting; the king and an eye. The eye spoke first, how far have you wandered? ‘We haven’t left at all,’ I said, ‘I’m still at home, what are you doing in my lounge?’

Tengger – Segye

segye

It was in the middle of nowhere I found you strapped to the last fence, tied to the past as the desert (inevitable) encroached (incorrigible). I bribed my way past the fates, whose eyes were everywhere, and I tried to attend to the knot, not demanding the impossible.

The way forward was blocked, an impediment that blind progress nonetheless sought to conquer. It sought allies, conscript; it entreated us all to visions to prosper. ‘I will never stoop to conquer,’ I yelled and returned to my task, only to find it gone. Gone! As far as the eye can see, and I can see, let me tell you. Call this a ramble? No, I never did. This is now a rescue mission, which I think I always knew it was. If only it wasn’t so dense, maybe the target would be clearer, but theway, like the sinus of the perciever, remained blocked.

The Natacha Atlas & Marc Eagleton Project ‎– Foretold In The Language Of Dreams

220px-foretold_atlasSo I mentioned that I’d been intending to cover a couple of albums from my historic listening, and here we are with one such.

It occurred to me lately that when you listen to something is just as much a factor in how good you perceive it to be as the quality of the music itself, although the latter is of vital importance. The point I’m trying to make is that something that is really good might seem average if you’re listening in the wrong mood, and mood is very often time dependent as well as context dependent. For example, something that really works on a Sunday morning is not guaranteed to make the same spot resonate in the same way if you put it on Friday evening before going out somewhere.

So, this is a good Sunday album, although it’s also a good late night album if you’re in a mellow mood.  I also think it would be good for listening to at work; those spreadhseets ain’t much fun with library office gossip as a background noise. It’s a cross of middle eastern sounds – which I do have a regular soft spot for – with ambient production and atmospheres. It’s nowhere near as uptempo as her usual style, but I do like that too.

I haven’t found a simple one stop shop to listen to the whole thing, and out of consideration for those of you who are suffering with software creep, I’ll not embed every single track from youtube, though here’s the details if you feel the urge to track more down. Here, then are a few tracks:

Zitherbell

my favourite, Yeranos

Etheric Messages

Power of Vibrations

The whole album is worth checking as it’s very chilled.

Horseback – Dead Ringers

hbdrJenks Miller brings us the first Horseback release since the really rather good ‘Piedmont Apocrypha.’ Dead Ringers sees a natural evlution in the Horseback sound, which is to say, he’s carrying on down the road that he was going down.

What this means in practical terms is that the rifftastic, droney, atmospheric, groovy, noisy mashup that is Horseback continues to be a rifftatstic, droney, atmospheric, groovy, noisy mashup. He’s kept his vocals exclusively clean this time out, which I think works for the better. There’s also quite the sonic crossover with one of his other projects, Jenks Miller & Rose Cross NC, lending proceedings an alt-country air.

Listening to it last night again I was reminded mainly of the wonderful Appliance, who probably fitted few of the descriptors I used previously – it may have been partly the crystal clean production (a feature of all Horseback recordings), partly the drum machines which feature on the early parts of the album. The night before I found myself thinking of Julian Cope, particularly on the tune most likely to have slotted onto his earliest releases, In Another Time, In and Out of Form. Before that it was the HP Lovecraft band from the late ’60s. It is entirely possible that this album will remind me of a different artist every time.

There is a minor imperfection in that the last tune is about 6 minutes too long for my money; he could have kept the post-dubstep experimentation down to a mere 10 minutes and it would have been fine! But this is an otherwise minor quibble, as this is otherwise my favourite Horseback album.