Everyday Dust :: Petroglyph X and The Fractured Veil (Dustopian Frequencies)

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As with every trip into outer and inner places, there is much to ruminate on here after the return home. Further sessions haven’t proved to exhaust what is opened up here, but have only served to expose the many doors along the cobwebbed corridor where one can be drawn into further phantasmal realms.

Everyday Dust returned from the triumph that was Overtones, his sonic explorations of a single old handbell, with a real corker of ritual ambient music at a chance meeting with musique concrète. The album evokes haunted supernatural dreamscapes with experimental flourishes perfect for days spent hanging out among the ancient ruins of times in the dim past whose mystery still escapes modern rational explanation.

The music on Petroglyph X and the Fractured Veil evades similar rational explanations. It’s an album of hypnagogic dream sequences stitched together in such a way that the seams between sounds disappear. Here the listener becomes a stalker of inner beings, seeking to make contact in the borderlands just as a thick fog settles in. Bubbling electronics and a broad palette of unknown sound source percolate into shapes that dissolve as quick as they form, morph and melting just beyond the distance of perception.

Lurking beyond the threshold of these unidentified sound phenomena are channeled primal rhythms and subliminal textures that swim in an ectoplasmic fluid. This is the perfect thing for the psychonaut voyager who wishes to go somewhere beyond while floating in the comfort of a sensory deprivation tank, or perhaps just listening in a darkened room. In other words, this is some freaky shit.

Everyday Dust stirs a cauldron of ingredients that might be found on the shelf of a witches shack or in the glass cabinets of an alchemist. Ingredients whose names and origin it is difficult to even begin speculating on. In the laboratory of his studio, these ingredients are processed. No, not processed. Things that are processed end up sounding like bland yellow government issued cheese. An orange tasteless paste. Rather, these are mutated, transmogrified, elevated and raised to another level of resonant vibration that break down the veil of illlusions we see before our eyes.

Listening to these pieces is profoundly discombobulating and psychologically disorienting, but in the best way. People need to be disoriented so they can hear with fresh ears, see with new eyes, awaken the new senses dormant within. This is a systematic derangement. A meticulous rearrangement.

“Petrified Heartbeats” is probably my favorite in this flow, but all is of a piece, and no single track overshadows another, though the shadows are long and deep. “Temporal Collapse at Paradox Harbor” is great song title, and the lull of the time waves from that harbor certainly cause me to travel along sidereal lines into mystifying spaces. The clanging bells on “The Consonance of Shattered Chains” rattles the mind with its somnambulistic inner space iconography and secret mythology.

As with every trip into outer and inner places, there is much to ruminate on here after the return home. Further sessions haven’t proved to exhaust what is opened up here, but have only served to expose the many doors along the cobwebbed corridor where one can be drawn into further phantasmal realms.

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