Certain musical products only really work properly in the right times and places. Some sounds just find themselves fitting a mood in combination with a moment and an environmental space. Which is perfectly okay, despite what less nuanced opinion holders might decree. Enter then, two albums that best fit the listening niche for Sunday mornings bathed in a blaze of autumn sunshine… which is handy given their close seasonally-aligned arrival.
Slotting neatly into this nook is Common Primitives, the second Sonic Cathedral-curated album-sized conjoining between multi-instrumentalist Andy Bell (Ride, Glok, Oasis, solo journeyman) and the Essex-based duo of Masal (AKA harpist / vocalist Özlem Şimşek and synthesist / producer Alastair Johnson).
Following on from 2023’s acclaimed Tidal Love Numbers, which stretched itself over four expansive wordless segments infused with Evening Star ambience, New Agey meditations, neo-classical moves and astral-rock mining, this sequel set revisits and adds to the trio’s collaborative idioms, as a suite of largely shorter and more pellucidly presented pieces.
With more kosmische vibes blended into the mix, the seven-part selection has a sprightlier — and occasionally more groovesome — overall trajectory, without still maintaining the serious-minded aims of its predecessor.
Proceedings begin with the ethereal chimes, organic picking and otherworldly voicings of “After Kâtibim” serenely setting the scene. Thereafter we’re transported through rippling watery elegance (“I Swear We Are Infinite” and “Yuzuki Fighting Spirit”); softened electro glitchscapes (“Soap And Water”); Vini Reilly-does-space-funk shapeshifting (“Tower Of Babylon”); remouldings of Michael Rother’s most languid motorik manoeuvres (“The Morning Of The Trip”); and a multi-movement finale that dexterously pulls in all directions (“Rudi’s Dream – The Third Bardo”).
Going deep, but invitingly so, Common Primitives is a radiant refuge beacon to seek out in the gloomy zeitgeist.
Casting similar sonic spells, albeit with more homespun looseness, is Migrations from Heron and Crane via Hibernator Gigs Records.
Once again constructed by the remote file exchanges of Dave Gibson and Travis Kokas, this fourth long-player from the US-dwelling pair pulls away from the welcome vocals and songs-based passages found scattered within 2024’s Nestings. Whilst this seems like a setback on paper, in reality it’s freed-up the shared internal focus somewhat, to facilitate a collection that appears more crafted and considered in its constituent compositions, but without losing the duo’s doggedly domesticated fusions of the synthetic and the organic.
Suffused with ruminations on the natural world and its landscapes, gleaned in part from post-pandemic travelling, Migrations subtly expresses a more sophisticated synergy between Gibson and Kokas.
After opening things up soothingly with mostly unplugged twinkling (“Kudzu Moon”) we’re taken on a stay-at-home trip of understated elevations. Hence, further in, comes Another Green World-goes-Americana balminess (“Biscuit Basin”); loungey micro-jazz (“Modern Calling”); harp and synth laden wooziness (“Haven Of Exiles”); bedroom bossa nova electronica (“Soft Cycle”); and sun-melted twanginess (“Slightly Californian”), to all widen-out Heron and Crane’s stylistic spectrum.
Aired in the incorrect circumstances, Migrations may feel a little too lightweight to make a serious impression; yet spun in the most appropriate juncture, its selection box of aural tinctures satisfyingly sooth the synapses.
-Adrian-
