The convergence of eroded melodies and washed-out downtempo percussion allows Janus to explore otherworldly sonic kaleidoscopes with resounding, and lasting integrity.
What do Crisopa, Syntaks, Secret Frequency Crew, and Boards of Canada have in common with the mysterious Dalham? Well, there’s probably not a direct line to Dalham, however, one should easily find a relationship in terms of magnetically clustered sounds and how they marry together with such cohesion. Perhaps it’s a skewed line of sorts, an intentional blurring, and one that nurtures similar feelings? Nonetheless, the convergence of eroded melodies and washed-out downtempo percussion allows Janus to explore otherworldly sonic kaleidoscopes with resounding, and lasting integrity. Released in December 2017, this one has been in constant rotation and continues to unveil a plethora of musical detail with each listen.
The breadth of undulating landscapes, rhythms, and far-reaching plateaus throughout each piece are so finely tuned and yet so beautifully disjointed, it’s difficult to pin just one track to discuss. Each movement is fluid in and of itself—uniquely conjuring a nostalgic sense. With an emphasis on drone-scapes as well as drum avalanches that beg repeated listening, this imbalance, and sort of nonlinear trajectory, is what launches Janus to higher ground. Crystalized mood shifting and acoustic electronic composure is where this album excels.
Where 2017’s Waves was described as “variant of woozy tape-saturated electronica that’s at once caustic and caressing,” Janus treads familiar terrain, but with a more direct punch. A welcomed audible watercolor, Dalham has found his mark and nails it here.
Janus is available on Public House. [Norman]
