Like Mike Bruno's "Black Horses", these pieces are dark travellers in and of their own rite, littering the fairgrounds of mental carnivals across the world with their sweet lullabies and whispered whinnies.
These tracks play their roles on this album quite well; each tells its own separate story, but weaves itself so well into the next that you may as well be listening to a single piece. Even the moment when the arm lifts from the record and the inevitable trip to the turntable commences, one finds oneself with a sense of anticipation and eagerness, rather than annoyance. Wine glasses sound in a heavenly chorus, slipping in and out of the headspace left from the beat of the strings (or wings) of Bruno's guitar, simultaneously intricate and minimalistic, ultimately dark, and thoroughly uplifting. A voice of no small effort, at times harsh and others lulling, places complex melodies and harmonies alongside ambient washes of an otherwise quiet room's natural sound, making way for the defined, powerful oscillations of synthesisers and instruments of unknown origin.
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