Boomkat: [Thy-010].

January 28, 2010

Following on from the wonderful ‘Your Eyes The Stars And Your Hands The Sea’ for the Type label, Seasons (Pre-Din) surfaces with another beautiful handmade edition, featuring half an hour of windswept environmental recordings, lost radio transmissions and phantom drones. There’s an intangible feel to the Seasons (pre-din) sound, and you get the feeling that this could only be music conceived out in the wilds. The opening piece could almost be a doomy cousin to Richard Skelton’s music, employing bowed drones that spill out clanging, metallic overtones while deathly radio static and weather-beaten field recordings bulk up the texture. Each track segues smoothly into the next, giving the sense that in structural terms this album functions as a single large-scale composition that’s been divided into indexed movements, rather than a sequence of individual pieces. The second and third tracks seem to embrace a more lo-fi, eroded sensibility that takes you further into the realms of hazy detachment – by the fourth track it sounds as if you’re stranded in a cave deep underground, with only the chattering noise of shortwave radio to keep you company. Spooky strings in the vein of The Caretaker emerge from the fifth section, and all the while that peculiar wind-like hiss persists. Ghostly pianos interrupt the flow, but we’re soon thrust back into the disorientating soundscape of static, bringing the album to a close with a lost broadcast feel…