Boomkat: [Thy-011].

June 24, 2010

This latest limited release from enigmatic Type artist Seasons (pre-din) comes courtesy of his own Thy imprint, arriving in a special limited edition, mastered by John ‘Xela’ Twells. As suggested by the dark skies of the hand-assembled sleeve art, this is music rooted in the landscape – but pastoral, it ain’t. The opening track launches into a kind of shimmering hysteria, dissolving what sounds like recordings of roosting birds into a bath of high frequency drone dissonance and shortwave radio. Following up, the second piece keenly draws out a clammy and oppressive environmental hum that sucks the ear in. You might be reminded of the natural world compositions Francisco Lopez has turned out over the years, but while the Spanish composer has often worked with tropical or rainforest surroundings, Seasons (pre-din) evokes an altogether bleaker habitat. Such is the entangled murkiness of these compositions, much of the mini-album’s success lies in the power of suggestion. As the different layers are added to the mix, there’s an encroachment on a sense of subdued frenzy; all this sounds as if nature’s gone mad – it’s a talking fox short of full-on Antichrist vibes. Chaos reigns, indeed. Probing further into the static, the third and fourth pieces plays out like a malarial hallucination, packed with hollowed-out phantasmic groans and fleeting voices plucked from the airwaves. After all this tension-building groundwork, the fifth and final piece represents a turn towards a more fearsome pay-off moment, accumulating a bleak and creeping distortion that floods the piece through its final minutes. A great slice of dark ambience from this mysterious artist, presented in his customarily opulent and personalised packaging.

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‘And she whispers in my ear…a lie is an untold fear.’

Special limited edition version mastered by John P. Twells limited to 200 copies available from Boomkat.

Original version available on request.

The new album from Seasons (pre-din) is very much an album of two halves, well actually to be fully honest it’s an album of two seedees. The first is a set of slow and low drones full of rustles, clicks, metallic craaaangs, disembodied voices, phantasmal melodies and abstracted effects. It’s very nice. I’ve played it lots over the last week. It’s got a lovely sense of trepidation that permeates the album and sinks into whatever other activity you’re doing while it’s on. It’s fabulous to read to adding a real edge to the storyline of my book.

The second album though is a set of piano melodies and is simply wonderful. I’m a real sucker for pianos at the best of time, I really love them. I’m especially a fan of the repetitive ostinato minimalism of Philip Glass’ piano work and that’s the area we’re inhabiting here. There’re some other instruments in there alongside some electronics and some field recordings but it’s the piano that carries the album. In mood it’s a very different beast to it’s big brother being light of touch, gracefully spacious and seductively calm.

As I said earlier, two halves but not two unconnected halves. These both feel as though they were produced through the same approach but using a different set of tools to produce two distinct but harmonious sets. This one is a must have people.