WHISPA – OLD HOUSE

I literally feel as though I'm melting round about now. Right about now. However you say it. This is a three month old (that's a quarter of a year) track from Whispa, a multi-instrumentalist and producer from London. It begins with a delicious tapestry of sounds in the form of some sort of crackling, or like a bag of marbles clacking against each other – a constant homely sound, like wood or outdated circuitry glowing on a fire.

And as you gently recline beside the warming flames, strums of almost-MIDI crystalline acoustic guitar fill the room, each one a hapless, heedless caress, soft skin of a hand stroking your forehead, running its fingers through your hair. The reclination is real: trip-hop flavoured beats make their oscillating way throughout the track, hi-hats ticking a 1.5x slower version of time as tambourine jangles shimmer in the half-light of the song.

Oh, of course – the track is called 'Old House'. I forgot. That, if you like to listen to music with titles in mind, would explain the comforting, heart-fuzzing peals of sound throughout – the sonic conjuration of a domestic snug.

This is not to mention the touching emotive ambience of the track, its thin washes of synth piecing together a hushed blanket of almost painful remembrance, with added decoration in the delayed bleeps, casting a mnemonic shadow in the form of a simple, childlike melody: memories of living somewhere that you can no longer call your own.

'Old House' is a beautiful tract of soul-soothing sounds, all textured with the crackly aesthetic of decades-old footage taken of somewhere long-forgotten, coupled with a foray into a transportive world of undeniable chill, sprinkled with the sparkle and promise of retro-futurism. Nice one Whispa.

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