As with many artists, the genesis of Jessica Moss‘s fourth album occurred during lockdown and it acted as a means of working her way through the enforced isolation. Judging by her previous offerings, the sense of remove and the overwhelming melancholy is something to which her violin sound is suited; but on Phosphenes, it is as if the bar were raised and the immersive sensations of solitude reached a peak.
The violin has different voices, as if a discussion is taking place, attempting to work itself out of this situation and contemplating progression from this liminal state. This sense of unfolding as the piece progresses works as if the enforced isolation has caused an inward search and that gradual resolution generates a feeling of calm, the slow-motion violin doubling itself and overlapping like imagined waves.
There is a greater sense of drama on side two, with Thierry Amar‘s bass lending a depth and a feeling of swollen reflection. The violins attack like a swarm on “Let Down”, angry and alarmed, with a stand-off taking place on deserted beaches between violin and voice, exultant but unsure, isolated and waiting to see what happens. A build up in intensity and a search for answers spirals the sounds ever forward.
The album ends with the low key simplicity of “Memorizing And Forgetting”, a sense of equilibrium being reached, the voices tired with end of day contentedness. It appears as the album closes like the equivalent of a huge, musical sigh, a piano tracking the emotions, gently coaxing as even the violin whispers sweet words of encouragement. It is a gentle and even end to an album that is a swell of emotions and thoughts, but that compels the listener to welcome Jessica’s outpouring.
Lockdown may have caused some real strife; but for albums like this we have to be thankful.-Mr Olivetti-
