This is a mind-cleanse, a slow sandstorm that wraps you up in it, a feeling of being lost with no way out and not knowing which way to turn, but it's not closed-in and claustrophobic like a labyrinth, more the feeling of being small in a huge expanse, a greyscale desert of sound that leaves you speck-like in its centre and the rippling dunes drift off distantly and the sky is hard and stony and the landscape looms towering all around: the giant them, the insignificant us. Ambient yet noisy, the hypnotising sounds of it all are instantly emotive.
LA-based Gabriel Brenner aka pastel crafts a leviathan of sound in 'silhouette', the touching tracts of synth swirling misty, melancholic watercolours that veil the heavy reverberations of the vocals, a haunted voice low and descending, lines ending with gentle vibrato, speaking from a lonely distance of Native American identity in its early refrain "the skin doesn't lay quite right, does it?" and later there are enigmatic descriptions of moments where the self in this regard is questioned—"gave me a card: painting of a woman with a feather in her hair." A gradual crescendo fades out, the booming of a drum, the gentle noise subsides like something forgotten and out of reach.
- 🔔 'silhouette' is taken from pastel's upcoming absent, just dust EP, due for self-release on 25th August; download this first track and pre-order the EP on Bandcamp. Half the proceeds taken from its sales will be given to FreshestCollective.org, "who have provided continued legal support to water protectors since the founding of the Sacred Stone Camp."
No comments:
Post a Comment