Stadiums & Shrines

The patterns aren’t as easy to trace at night; they’re heard, and at times felt, more so than seen. Distant static plays tricks on the psyche, tan turns to chrome, and the cruel mirages of paradise drift into cold echoes of infinite dune:

Unknown | #001

“#001” was slipped in the mail today and signed “Best, Unknown”. The artist may or may not be someone we’ve heard from before, but whatever; this is a welcome numbers game.

At some point, the ocean’s breath and his own had to arrive at an understanding. Syncing up was a necessity of survival for one, and perhaps just a simple yet merciful shift of pace for the other. The air knew this all along, and patiently waited, as if paused, while a crest rose and a rhythm answered. In, and out.

Respire is the latest work from Steve Swartz aka Swartz et, a Detroit-based musician and composer who in 2010 faithfully rendered the currents of Nighttide through radiant drone, and last year paid sensory tribute to his hometown in our own Slow Motion. Here, over five spacious arrangements, Steve conducts a sonic research of sorts, as he put it, “exploring the power and intimacy found in deep connections between people.” The project’s focal point is breathing; each track was built from the recordings of Steve and a few friends sitting silently in a room, “just being”. His guitar and piano seemed to follow suit, reaching a tranquil synthesis on “Yours Mine Ours”, before gradually, and willfully, becoming engulfed by the sea. It’s a distinctly meditative flow, and S&S is feeling quite centered in hosting it today:

The record is out May 14th via Cognito Percepti.

[the image above is derived from a Delaney Allen photograph]

Falling is a sensation of gravity—an object of greater mass pulling a lesser toward itself, implying eventual contact, an end. The idea of falling infinitely then must be closer to that of free fall—when inertia produces a sensation of weightlessness. The audio interpretation of such certainly confirms the theory:

Delhi Daydreams | Dreaming of Falling Infinitely

Tone-poet Chase Hudson composed this loop a few years back using an electric-grand piano and various synths. He decided to share it last week as part of an ongoing thread called Collections of Sound Over Time Vol. 1, Time in Motion, under the name Delhi Daydreams (a reference to the children’s book, My side of the Mountain). Chase is also one of Two People Playing Music (2PPM), who have quite the sprawling sets of their own at bandcamp.

This magic’s got the radio cut but the noise is far from faded. The wheel’s got itself steered and now four left turns into a 20 minute mind-fuck; might as well just lay down up top:

That’s both sides of a clear green cassette tapestry from Denver artist Nate Hendricks as provided by Patient Sounds, and each moves from thought to thought at a strange ease, marrying acid folk and pop flirtation with some real expansive, out-of-body interludes. 50 exist, and can be ordered here.