A Place of Owls
Relax.
Close your eyes.
Breathe.
Clear your mind.
Imagine.
It’s 5 am. You’re in a cave, looking out over a deserted coast, watching the sun come up. There’s a morning fog, but you know it’s going to lift soon. But, for now, it softens the edges of every sound.
All around, notes drop and drip and trickle into subterranean stillness. And echo. You hear a gull, and the merest hint of whale song far, far away. Sonic waves shuffle the shingle on the beach, and a bell-buoy chimes somewhere. Out there, in the fog.
Sometimes, a melody and a rhythmic fragment will coalesce, swirl together for a moment, and drift apart. There are no songs here. Almost nothing which could be called ‘music’, in the usual sense. There are a few moments of cavernous fuzz-bass and drums in ‘Ys’. The rest is electronic washes and softly hissing cymbals. Guitar and piano, seemingly random, and mile upon mile of empty space.
It’s awesome.
#A Place of Owls #Ambient #Post-metal #Post-rock #Band of the week #Bruce Cowie
