The newest expression, Were we really there?, is a beatless paean to somnambulist mornings at campfire-ember edges, or where the lull of lapping lakes adjacent to preemptive summer sunsets captivate.
The genesis of nothingness playing in the sun by itself
When Kirk Markarian expresses as Neuro… No Neuro the result newly caresses the peripheries of tenderness and fragility reflected through all human experience — the resultant outpouring is a deliberate stillness of sound architecture — music seen as essential oxygen in an age of often suffocation.
The newest expression, Were we really there?, is a beatless paean to somnambulist mornings at campfire-ember edges, or where the lull of lapping lakes adjacent to preemptive summer sunsets captivate. Lilted tones tremble at loving shores of enviable safety. Peace has rarely been articulated so absolutely, so completely Breathing is captured on an aural canvas in an essence of five vitalitous exhalations.
Simplicity is thoroughly made lucid here. Spaciousness and minimalism fugue into falling figurines of unbreakable rising hi-heat. “We’ll just pencil you in,” our fourth piece, is the genesis of nothingness playing in the sun by itself — where the breeze that tenaciously moves the gaps between blades of grass is imagined in harmonical, childlike tones of whispered candy.
Descriptives of honey and wood (ref. “Honey-colored wood thing in the room”) stick so closely to seem to play together, reversing as parallels whilst dancing like bees on visible breezes. And as we close these five easy pieces — we are made aware we have been gifted a collection that may just be the precise archetype for compulsively pressing play again, simply to check whether what just happened was as real, rubicund and as rich as one could hope.
Were we really there? is available on Bandcamp.
