Ballet, by FourColor

12k presents the digital-only release of FourColor’s “Ballet” which was originally released in 2015 as a limited-edition cassette on the Duenn label in Japan. 

“Ballet” is a departure from previous FourColor releases in that songwriter Keiichi Sugimoto (also one half of Minamo) steps away from the comfort zone he finds in guitar and explores a more percussive, yet musical sound. 

The tracks are decidedly more moody, darker and synthetic.

This album was released April 1, 2016
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TONUS Tribute, Part II

Happy 2019 everyone!

I hope this finds you well & ready to to take on the new year – may it bring out the best you have so that you may prosper & thrive!

I’ve been informed via internal email from our engineering staff that we have an impressive mix lineup ready to roll out this year, beginning with part 2 of what began as a 2 part mix (but is about to grow into a third installment) — an ‘e l e m e n t s‘ side project (and a blast to mix!).

Highly experimental, slightly caustic (in spots) & cutting-freakin’ edge . . .

Most all the compositions were w-a-y too long to be included on any mix – so they’re excerpted (x) with l-o-n-g fades, overlays & old-world, precision craftsmanship; rolling in @ 67:59 total running time.

We’ve been previewing tracks from several about-to-be-released TONUS projects; so, as stated, there will be a part 3 (of sorts). It will take a slightly different turn, mix-wise, than its predecessors – look for it sometime within the month of March (complete with its varied & multiple Ides).

…………………………………..#DinGloriousDin

Download

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01 Brian Eno – Neroli (x)

02 Frieband – Emanate, Pt 2 (x)

03 TONUS – Texture II (x)

04 Dirk Serries – Celestial Perfume

05 TONUS – IV (x)

06 TONUS – Texture III (x)

07 Serries, Verhoeven & Webster – Cinepalace 2 (x)

08 Reto Bieri – Holliger, Contrechant – II

09 ::vtol::12_262 (drill-bit edit)

…..(a cool project itself, inspired by Soviet/Arctic deep-earth drilling)

10 Dirk Serries – Diffused Wire Appliance

11 Erik K. Skodvin – Corrin Den

12 Fantoom – Sluimer 1 (x)

13 Radian – Unje

TONUS Tribute 2

Ideal Principle, by John Dikeman, George Hadow, Dirk Serries, Martina Verhoeven & Luis Vicente

Released August 13, 2018

John Dikeman: tenor & alto saxophone

George Hadow: drums

Dirk Serries: electric guitar

Martina Verhoeven: double bass

Luis Vicente: trumpet

Performed, recorded and mixed at Sunny Side Inc. Studio, Anderlecht (Belgium) on February 20th 2016.

Mastered by Dirk Serries.

Artwork by Colin Webster

Raw Tonk Records 2018 #RT035

Forget Lodger, Iggy Pop’s ‘The Idiot’ Is the Last Piece of Bowie’s Berlin Trilogy

Jeremy Allen, 3.13.17

Was David Bowie’s trilogy actually a quadrilogy; heck, was it actually a pentalogy; or, asks Jeremy Allen, is Berlin simply a state of mind?

“Rock & roll has been really bringing me down lately. It’s in great danger of becoming an immobile, sterile fascist that constantly spews its propaganda on every arm of the media”
David Bowie, 1976

David Bowie supposedly changed musical styles as capriciously as he changed his hairstyles during the 1970s, and yet what’s rarely discussed is how difficult – and even painful – that process sometimes was. In the same way that conventional wisdom told us for too long that disco sucked, or that punk toppled prog leading to some kind of year zero, it has been assumed that Bowie suddenly rocked up in Berlin with Iggy Pop, knocked the drugs on the head, and then made three lauded albums of experimental electronica with Brian Eno at his side. That assumption is as misleading as it is fallacious.

There’s certainly no clear narrative regarding the Berlin triptych, which, depending on how you look at it, couldn’t have happened without one mentioning at least five or maybe six interconnected records, including two under the name of Iggy Pop. The location too, is often far from Berlin, starting on the West Coast of America and ending on the East Coast, taking in studios in rural France and in Switzerland too. Truly only “Heroes” can claim to be a record fully conceived and actualised in the German city among the three recognised Berlin albums.

Perhaps the greatest mystery regarding Bowie’s productivity during the mid-70s is how he managed to make a record as magnificent as Station To Station when he was so far down the road of cocaine addiction, subsisting on a well-documented diet of milk and red peppers. Rumours abounded that he would keep his urine in jars in the fridge for fear an evil magician might put a spell on him (the logic can no doubt be easily unpicked if you’re reading this sober). For immediately after Station To Station, his creativity appeared to be shot through, from the aborted soundtrack of The Man Who Fell To Earth which Nicholas Roeg is rumoured to have kiboshed on the grounds that it wasn’t very good, to early attempts to produce Iggy Pop, who was suffering from a drug-induced madness even greater than his own.

In a legendary Rolling Stone piece with Cameron Crowe, the author records Bowie ranting about Nietzschean übermensch, the fact he hates his own rock & roll albums and that he might have been “a bloody good Hitler… an excellent dictator”. Crowe also sits in on a recording session with Bowie and Iggy in Los Angeles. The former spends nine hours composing, producing and playing every instrument on Iggy’s demo, before allowing his friend to unleash a snarling improv that on paper doesn’t appear to be one of his best.

“Bowie touches a button and the room is filled with an ominous, dirgelike instrumental track,” wrote Crowe, before recounting some of Iggy’s freestyle screaming:

”When I walk through the do-wa.
I’m your new breed of who-wa.
We will nooowwwwwwwwww drink to meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee”.

“It’s the best thing I’ve ever done,” drooled Iggy, who then disappeared with a girl he’d been trying to get off with, never to return. When he called days later to apologise for his no show, Bowie told him to “go away”. Although the song did apparently make a brief appearance during Iggy’s solo tour of 77 (featuring one David Bowie on keyboard), ‘Drink To Me’ was never released.

Meanwhile one of the tracks that was intended for The Man Who Fell To Earth soundtrack would eventually turn up on Low in substantially different form, as closing track ‘Subterraneans’, an ambient, mostly instrumental track with the cryptic “share bride failing star / care-lines driving me Shirley” lyric. In fact Bowie apparently sent a copy of Low to Roeg on completion with a brief note that said something to the effect of: “This is what I was trying to do.”

‘Subterraneans’ was perhaps the first track conceived for the Berlin trilogy, and Low appeared in record shops first in January 77 (deliberately tucked away at the start of the year, away from the other big releases) ahead of The Idiot’s March release. Iggy Pop’s debut solo album was actually recorded before Low, and it’s fair to say much of the experimentation that was a feature of the latter started with the former, and not in Berlin, but at the Château d’Hérouville, north of Paris. It would also be fair to say that Bowie delayed release of The Idiot on their shared label RCA, in order that it wouldn’t be seen as the originator – in which case Iggy might be perceived as some kind of cynosure of a new movement. Although it might look Machiavellian in hindsight, Bowie was justified, as The Idiot is a David Bowie album in all but name (Allan Jones of Melody Maker cruelly suggested it was his “second favourite David Bowie album”). With Lust For Life, Iggy took back control, but on its predecessor Bowie directed and played many of the parts, with Iggy appearing at the conclusion of the process of each track as some proto-punk deus ex machina. Bowie was experimenting with a new kind of music, and Iggy Pop was his willing guinea pig. Quid pro quo, it was a deal that benefitted both of them, and suggestions that Bowie was purely manipulating Iggy for his own ends are wide of the mark. (Bowie stepped in in 86 to work with him again on Blah Blah Blah when Iggy was in yet another tight spot; just one example of a friend indeed assisting his frequent friend in need.)

Château d’Hérouville was probably suggested by Tony Visconti, who had recorded The Slider with T-Rex there. For whatever reason, the producer couldn’t quite make the commitment to oversee The Idiot in the end; he would however produce every subsequent Bowie album up to Let’s Dance. The 18th century chateau had been home to Chopin and George Sand, and was said to be haunted by the composer and his paramore. Years later, the country castle had fallen into disrepair, but it was revived in the 60s as a recording studio. Elton John, Pink Floyd, Fleetwood Mac and Gong (amongst many others) recorded albums there, the Bee Gees made ‘Stayin’ Alive’ and ‘How Deep Is Your Love’ at the famous address, while Jean-Michel Jarre once told me he worked there as an assistant when he was younger, where quotidian duties might include preparing treatments for Terry Riley.

Although it’s located not far from Paris in the Val d’Oise département, getting there is actually harder than it looks, and I know because I’ve tried. The recording studio is a going concern again, though the staff are not great at answering their emails (a request to have a look around was met with silence). Located in bucolic surrounds at least 9km from the nearest town – Auver-sur-Oise where Van Gogh and his brother Theo are buried – the only way to get there really is to drive. In other words, it was the perfect location for a couple of recovering misfits looking to avoid temptation and get on with the process of making music away from L.A., a place Bowie had come to loathe, describing it as a “wart on the backside of humanity”.

The record then, thrives from the focus of its creators, with a slightly suffocating, almost underwater quality that comes from the close proximity of those involved, and also the technical incompetencies from working without a recognised hotshot producer like Visconti. ‘Funtime’ is clearly about socialising back across the pond, and written in the first person plural, it demonstrates how joined at the hip the two protagonists were at the time.

“Hey baby we like your lips/
Hey baby we like your pants”.

Bowie’s vocal is high enough in the mix that it could be a duet, at least if the effect on both voices didn’t make them sound like an automaton; the almost mechanical delivery symbolises the ritual of going through the motions when you’re a social butterfly, even if it stops being fun (and then what do you do with yourself if you don’t go out?) ‘Dum Dum Boys’ is inspired by Iggy’s time in the Stooges, while opener ‘Sister Midnight’ – built around a Carlos Alomar riff – actually came into being before The Idiot, played by Bowie on the Isolar tour supporting Station To Station. Intriguingly, Bowie uses the same riff on ‘Red Money’, the final track on Lodger, a rounding off that surely canvases for The Idiot’s inclusion in the body of work. More on that in a bit.

Perhaps ‘Nightclubbing’ is the only track that could reasonably be assumed to have been inspired by Berlin, throbbing as it does with the sleazy ambience of a Kreuzberg club such as Club SO36. Indeed the muffled drum machine that thumps like a slowed down heartbeat almost sounds like it’s coming through the floorboards. “Bowie kept saying, ‘But we gotta call back the drummer, you’re not gonna have that freaky sound on the tape!’” recounted Iggy Pop, “and I replied, ‘Hey, no way, it kicks ass, it’s better than a drummer.’”

The drummer in question was Michel Santangeli, who’d been called over from Brittany, and dispensed with again before he’d barely got his sticks out of his drum bag (it had become a working practice of Bowie’s to get the drums down as quickly and spontaneously as possible and then build the track around it). Santangeli had been brought in by the chateau’s sound engineer Laurent Thibault, who also happened to be Magma’s bass player. Bowie surprised Thibault firstly when it became clear that he was intimate with the prog rock band’s own music, and again when he hired him as bassist for The Idiot. And session guitarist Phil Palmer was brought in and given an unusual brief. According to Paul Trynka’s Open Up And Bleed, he was told to imagine the sounds of different clubs as if walking down Wardour Street, and to replicate the sounds from each as he passed.

It should be noted that regular contributors, drummer Dennis Davis and guitarist Alomar, also appear on the record, and Visconti did some of the mixing back in Berlin as well as Munich, though who did exactly what was left off the sleeve. The cover art itself was inspired by Die Brücke expressionist Erich Heckel’s Roquairol, which hung in the Brücke Museum an hour or so away from Hauptstrasse 155, Bowie and Iggy’s Berlin residence. They’d secured and paid for the rights to use the painting for the cover of The Idiot, but instead went with a photo of Iggy imitating the image instead. Bowie would then do the same himself for the cover of “Heroes” in 1978.

A month’s studio time had been paid for and was now left over at the chateau, and so Bowie reconvened there for the Low sessions, with a crew whose personnel would more or less be present throughout the trilogy, including Visconti and Eno. He’d informed his collaborators that work may result in something or nothing, a Dadaist no programme where the point was to create art for its own sake. Having sought to curb his own nefarious ways, he was suffering from writer’s block lyrically, which is perhaps why he was throwing himself so enthusiastically behind Iggy, and definitely why Low is so short on actual words, and why it fades in and out so often as though it’s an assemblage of clips. The raison d’etre for The Idiot, and by default for Low, echoed the words of the Cabaret Voltaire’s Hans Richter, who wrote that there “was a brief moment in which absolute freedom was asserted for the first time. This freedom might lead either to a new art – or to nothing”.

The Idiot was the dry run for Low, and against the odds, it had turned out to be a great album. Ditto with Low, which in turn was the dry run for “Heroes”, which was also of the highest standard. If Low explores uncertainty and offers few answers, then “Heroes” forges ahead with confidence, but ultimately its victories are as a result of the toil achieved during Low, which will always be critically more appreciated for doing it all first.

While much of Low – which was going to be called New Music: Night and Day until the last minute – was laid down at Château d’Hérouville, the relationship with Thibault apparently broke down after conditions at the facility deteriorated. Starving after neglectful staff had apparently forgotten to stock the cupboards, Bowie and Iggy both went down with food poisoning from some dodgy fromage. Bowie, Visconti, Iggy and assistant Coco Schwab disembarked for Berlin where they’d finish the album at the “Hansa Studio By The Wall”. Lust For Life followed, which was then succeeded by “Heroes”, both recorded in West Berlin. A gap then ensued as Bowie went off to film Just A Gigolo with Marlene Dietrich (although the two filmed their shared scene from different cities). The final piece in the jigsaw puzzle – Lodger – was recorded much later over a six month period between September 1978 and March 1979, firstly at the plush Mountain Studios in Montreux, Switzerland (where Bowie officially lived for tax reasons) and then in New York (where he would settle from 1993 onwards).

Two recent books on Bowie’s time in Berlin – Heroes by Tobias Rüther and Bowie In Berlin: A New Career In A New Town by Thomas Jerome Seabrook – pay little lip service to Lodger. Seabrook dedicates whole sections to song breakdowns not just of Low and “Heroes”, but of The Idiot and Lust For Life too, while neglecting to do the same for Lodger; Rüther meanwhile seems to spend more time on the ill-fated Just A Gigolo than he does on the final album in the series. One can see why. Lodger is a fine album for sure, and an underrated one (or as much as a David Bowie album can be underrated), but its links with Berlin are tenuous to say the least, and not just because it wasn’t recorded there. The personnel might be the same, but Bowie had moved on from his own personal Weimar period, and that’s reflected in Lodger’s international flavour. ‘African Night Flight’ for instance, is based on trips Bowie took to Kenya, while the exploration of rhythm would act as a catalyst for Eno, who would explore such ideas further with David Byrne on 1981’s My Life In The Bush Of Ghosts. And speaking of moving on, it would appear Eno and Bowie had done just that, from each other, though they’d come together again on 1995’s 1. Outside.

For all of the above reasons, The Idiot has a greater claim to being one of the Berlin three in preference of Lodger in my opinion, though perhaps it would have been disrespectful to Iggy Pop to regard it as such, given that it’s his name on the record. Carlos Alomar said many people felt “they were due a trilogy”, according to David Buckley’s Strange Fascination, but perhaps they’d already been delivered one without realising it. If Lodger is a Berlin album then so is The Idiot, so should it perhaps be a Berlin tetralogy with some French flavour? And while Iggy seized back a little control on Lust For Life, it’s difficult to imagine some of the quickfire lyrical improvisations that Bowie laid down on “Heroes” had he not been inspired by Iggy working on Lust For Life in the first place. “Bowie’s a hell of a fast guy,” complained Iggy later. “I realised I had to be quicker than him, or whose album was it gonna be?” Also take your mind back to the intense crooning on, say, ‘Wild Is The Wind’, and compare it with the deep sprechgesang delivery on Low; that could only have really been inspired by Iggy’s vox on The Idiot. These albums are all intertwined, so should we look at them as a Berlin pentalogy? Whatever you might decide, Lodger is without doubt the most anomalous of them all.

Perhaps before we leave this discussion, I should point out that the Berlin triptych never was official, and you’re free to compartmentalise records as you see fit. Or perhaps, as Bowie’s old friend Lou Reed proved, Berlin is simply a state of mind. Having never been to the city himself when he wrote the titular chef d’oeuvre, it could be argued that Berlin, or Berlin, is simply a symbol of decadence and faded glamour rather than somewhere situated in reality. Bowie once described it as the “greatest cultural extravaganza that one could imagine”, while the (little known outside of France) former French minister for culture Jack Lang said it best when he said,
“Paris is always Paris, and Berlin is never Berlin.”

Transition, by Plaster

Transition” is the new studio album from experimental electronic producer Plaster. With less emphasis on complex sound design, Gianclaudio Hashem Moniri has taken a more minimal approach using only analogue gear and hardware in mostly live and improvised compositions. The result is a profoundly moving piece of industrial sonics, full of depth and emotion and a perfect soundtrack to the uncertain state we find ourselves in today.

“This album comes from a different perspective of Plaster’s past works in terms of emotions and sounds. My aim was to reduce the amount of complexity in order to maintain the tracks simple but effective. I wanted to be close to the people in daily life. Most of the tracks are pure improvisations using analog synths and hardware, there’s no additional editing or post-production adopting the way of thinking ‘Less Is More’.”

Casting off with the all encompassing throb of ‘Casual Encounter’ Plaster places the listener in the heart of a mechanized womb as he builds industrial soundscapes into a warm blanket of sound. The evolving intensity of ‘The Climbers’ drags us into his new dystopian vision, which is then fully realized by the discordant pulse of ‘Disconnected Heart’. As we submerge ourselves even further, suffocating in the depths of his industrial wasteland, shards of light begin to emerge, most notably in the closing beauty of ‘Children On The Cliff.’ At times intense, blissful, challenging and hypnotic, ‘Transition’ exists in an electronic hinterland, where amongst the post-apocalyptic debris, new life begins.

credits

Released March 2, 2018
Written, Performed and Engineered by Gianclaudio Hashem Moniri.
Painting and artwork concept by Dmytro Fedorenko
Design by Zavoloka
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elements_art

Jazz…a uniquely American art form…America’s classical music. I dig it in pretty much all of its forms: avant-garde, bebop, trad, swing, third stream, vocal, ska, post-bop, latin, fusion, blues, hard-bop, free, cool & dixieland…to name a few.

And so here I present a new elements with some “old”, marquee names, incorporating Jazz, Funk . . . & funky Jazz.

As this is our final mix posting for 2018, I wish everyone a

Merry Christmas! (& a prosperous + healthy 2019)

80:24

Download

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01 Stephan Micus – Words Of Truth

02 Bill Frisell – Sundust

03 Eberhard Weber – Street Scenes

04 Pat Metheny Group – Baracole

05 John Blake – Genesis

06 Wynton Marsalis – Black Codes from the Underground

07 Dexter Gordon/Johnny Griffin – Cake (live)

08 Andy Summers – The Last Dance of Mr. X

09 Dizzy Gillespie/Bradford Marsalis – Birk’s Works

10 Miles Davis/John Scofield – Speak

11 Medeski, Martin & Wood – Anonymous Skulls

12 Chick Corea – Dance of Chance

13 Jeff Beck – Head for Backstage Pass

14 Herbie Hancock – Hardrock (extended beats remix)

elements_art

iNDEX05 (DiN50) by Various Artists

DiN50 | iNDEX05 by Various Artists

Limited to 1,000 copies

iNDEX05 is the fifth DiN compilation album and includes two tracks each from the titles DiN41 – 49. The artists on show this time are Ian Boddy, Node, ARC, Dave Bessell (one of the members of Node) and collaborations between Parallel Worlds & Dave Bessell, Ian Boddy & Markus Reuter, Erik Wøllo & Bernhard Wöstheinrich and Parallel Worlds & Self Oscillate.

As with the previous four DiN samplers DiN label boss Ian Boddy has mixed and cross-faded the 18 tracks into a continuous ambient mix that not only showcases the albums featured on the release but presents an exciting and varied title in it’s own right. It also highlights the varied and intriguing music that the DiN label offers on it’s releases from deep analogue synth grooves through vibrantly melodic instrumentals to powerful, epic ambient atmospheres. An intoxicating mix of the old and new beautifully presented in a slimline cardboard wallet with an extra flap which just adds to the value and collectibility of this release.

Track listing:

01 Borderlands by Ian Boddy & Markus Reuter from Colour Division (DiN43)
02 Shinkansen East by Node from Node 2 (DiN44)
03 Subgiants by Erik Wøllo & Bernhard Wöstheinrich from Weltenuhr (DiN46)
04 Ground Warmth by Parallel Worlds & Self Oscillate from World Adapter (DiN48)
05 Tone 3 by Ian Boddy from Tone Science (DiN49)
06 Paradise Lost by Dave Bessell from Black Horses Of The Sun (DiN47)
07 Arcadia by ARC from Umbra (DiN45)
08 Denormal by Parallel Worlds & Dave Bessell from Morphogenic (DiN41)
09 Never Reaching by Ian Boddy from Liverdelphia (DiN42)
10 Thin Air by Node from Node 2 (DiN44)
11 From Here To There by Dave Bessell from Black Horses Of The Sun (DiN47)
12 Above The Snow by Parallel Worlds & Dave Bessell from Morphogenic (DiN41)
13 Tone 1 by Ian Boddy from Tone Science (DiN49)
14 My Window View by Parallel Worlds & Self Oscillate from World Adapter (DiN48)
15 Oculus by Erik Wøllo & Bernhard Wöstheinrich from Weltenuhr (DiN46)
16 Triptastique by Ian Boddy from Liverdelphia (DiN42)
17 Cherry Bomb by ARC from Umbra (DiN45)
18 Slowfall by Ian Boddy & Markus Reuter from Colour Division (DiN43)

Total Time: 77:48
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Released June 24, 2016
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The Things That Objects Can Tell Us About Ourselves, by David Vélez

1. The things that objects can tell us about ourselves 49:47 
“The being of objects is an issue distinct from the question of our knowledge of objects. Here, of course, it seems obvious that in order to discuss the being of objects we must first know objects” 

– Levi R. Bryant. The Democracy of Objects. 

“To destroy objects has always been important in my work as a way to transform matter through very emotional and redeeming actions. The beauty of a broken object is only comparable with the beauty of the sounds product of this destruction.” David Veléz . 

This album is centred on Velez’s teaching of foley, the art of sound design for film, and in particular the suggestion of fictions through the destruction of objects. 

It is an album made from Veléz performances with objects and aims to convey catastrophic ambiences with destructive aftermaths. 

Thanks to: Kate Carr and Monty Adkins 

Ektenia, by Andrew Sherwell

“They enter accompanied by angels,” was my grandfather’s claim.

And who was I to disagree? I could certainly believe that they did. In fact, I did believe it and I knew it to be true, much like everything Grandfather told me.

As the doors opened, I could feel the shock of the cold breeze as the angels flew in. I could see them swoop patterns through the rising clouds of frankincense, caught in the golden beams from the stained-glass windows.

For much of the rest of the service, I would look for glimpses of them, high in the dome, in the architecture. It’s not as though I could watch the service; I was too short, hemmed in by Sunday Best and hats. Grandfather saw everything. At six feet six inches, he towered over the rest of the congregation, yet he too spent most of the service gazing up. Every now and then he would squeeze my hand and gesture with his head. I tried to follow his gaze, but he could see them better than me.

I may not have seen much of the service, but I would certainly listen to it all. I loved it. The priest chanting, the murmured response of the congregation, the sung response from the choir. Oh, the choir! How they filled even that cavernous cathedral. That sound, that glorious sound; it would wash around the structure and reverberate back, repetition upon repetition. Repetition upon repetition. I understood not a word, the language was not mine, but that mattered not. I understood the message. “Just let yourself feel it,” was Grandfather’s advice.

It was a heady mix; the angels, the frankincense, the singing. Too much for a ten-year old me. I would regularly faint. Maybe the starched collar of my Sunday Best would cut off the circulation to my head as I gazed forever upwards. Maybe, I was just overcome with it all, as the old ladies who fussed me to my feet in broken English would suggest. Maybe, as Grandfather said, it was the gaze of an angel that did it.

Turns out he was right.

Turns out I have always been susceptible to angels. And occasionally to demons, for what are they but fallen angels? Angels who have lost their grace, angels removed from the Word. And if angels can fall that far, then surely too can man. And telling angel and demon apart has always been the problem.

Experience of the numinous is unsettling. Forget the demons for a minute, what about the angels? Not the embarrassingly twee, cloying sentimentality of New Age spirituality angels, but angels of the older religions. Manifestations of the Word, on one hand baby-killers, city-levelers, enactors of God’s wrath, and on the other, bringers of a calm joy inimitable in our ridiculously over-wrought, over-stimulated and alienated society. What could be more disturbing, confusing, traumatic? What could be more overwhelming? It’s enough to make you faint.

Now I am only rarely bothered by the angels. The demons appear to have completely given up: lightweights. Years of medication and first-class counselling have seen to that. For better or worse, I seem, by and large, to be left to myself, to get on with it.

But I miss them. They provided glimmer and shimmer in this dark and heavy world.

Perhaps this album is an attempt to recreate that feeling, the one the 10-year-old me felt. Woozy in the stifling repetition, spotting shapes in the smoke, alert to the whispers of both demons and angels.

Andrew Sherwell

Released October 2, 2018
Music & artwork by Andrew Sherwell
Mastered by Stephan Mathieu