R.A.N (Roads At Night), has stitched together a patchwork of moods ranging from grey to pitch black into whole cloth by capturing the feel of “ill at ease”—cinematic ill at ease, like Hitchcock or Eraserhead—while not necessarily creating a dark electronica in the process. Though it is kind of scary.
First off, great title, spectacular title. It conjures up a plethora of Gothic genre associations, from Emily Brontë’s windswept Cathy, to the southern belle swooning at the beastliness of her swain, to classic period 4AD dreamscaping. And yet as an album, Her Trembling Ceased is genreless. Hüma Utku, born in Istanbul, living and performing in Berlin as R.A.N (Roads At Night), has stitched together a patchwork of moods ranging from grey to pitch black into whole cloth by capturing the feel of “ill at ease”—cinematic ill at ease, like Hitchcock or Eraserhead—while not necessarily creating a dark electronica in the process. Though it is kind of scary.
Without resembling it in the slightest, “Armor” is a string-soaked overture that has the symphonic memorableness of the theme from The Exorcist, though it is the following “BULB” that has that incremental, Oldfieldian Tubular Bells pace to it. The propulsive “Driven by the Demons” would serve well as an alternate soundtrack to the frightening, psychedelic boat ride helmed by Willy Wonka. “Ruins” set on the grounds of a country estate crumble at the edges of a strummed electric guitar as bells (bells chime recurring throughout Her Trembling Ceased) ring a weird carillon.
“I´m Fine, Go Away” is cold wind eddying around a heroine who has fled to the flatlands, carrying with it something sacral that also holds something creepy within, a jumbled message, which after a silence, reemerges to resolve itself into sideways looped recitation. An ancient piano pounds out a dissonant requiem on “Dig Two Graves.” “Ghost of a Child (is Here Tonight)” is a shrill, thrilling visitation forcing its way out of a television that hasn’t worked for decades, and no amount of playful child’s xylophone calms the shivers. “Subtraction” is a dire, dour piano being played on a dire, dour day for a dire, dour lover reclining on a duvet of static.
R.A.N closes with the unexpectedly upful title track, an anthemic, almost planetarium rock laser show. Bright lights are even brighter with the lights off.
Her Trembling Ceased is available on all major digital platforms.
https://vimeo.com/125875418