These Charms May Be Sung Over A Wound is the first album that Richard Skelton has released that is not through his own label, and is a continuation of his journey towards the perfection of a certain sort of elemental soundscape. Although the titles of the pieces contained here refer to Anglo-Saxon “leechdoms” or remedies, for me they are not just bound to the earth, but are part of the cosmos, drifting in kinetic waves like slow views of distant worlds with subtle transmissions and blinding sweeps of huge stars.
The phased pulse of gentle electronics that opens the album gives way to a slower, more deliberate scope which is reaching further, dragging something distant towards a yawning abyss. There is no reflection from there, just a chasm of infinite dimension. There is an immensity here and a solitude that is well rendered on the single sustained notes of “For Either Deadened Or Undeadened”, and the gradual increase in insistence is like watching a solar storm approach but from a safe distance, knowing that you are secure.
There is a kind of semi-industrial heartbeat to “For The Application Of Fire”, but with a listless melancholy in its thinning atmosphere. In front of you is an open door, magnetically drawing you through layers of tone and a sense of profundity that is beyond reach. Everything feels like a step back on “For An Inward Wound”, the deep throbs are like some elemental unfurling, a slow awakening with the shiny portent of crystalline tones high above. The drama is put across, but with such simple and spare ingredients that it really is testament to Richard’s abilities in the studio. The sense of reawakening is never far from the imagery here. “For A Swarthened Body”‘s ancient sense of industrial motion feels hidden deep within unfathomable recesses that are so expansive and mysterious they could emanate from anywhere. These sounds really draw you in, seemingly magnifying the experience as it is drawn from the speaker. The spine-tingling, haunted reverb notes on “Against Bite And Rend Of Snake” reminded me of the Pipedream album from many years ago; the way its slightly discordant shriek felt like it was on the edge of showing something that you don’t really wish to see, but can’t stop yourself from looking.Up close, the feedback scree would be unbearable, but here it is almost lilting, and the different textures that are used make each soundscape different, with just the slow heartbeat always there. By the time the final track has passed, it feels as though you are one with it. It tries to answer some questions by letting in a little light; but after all this time, the light is a little too bright and the warning is too late as the album unwraps you and leaves.
-Mr Olivetti-
