Listen To The Voice Of Fire
Dylan Eil Ton’s canvas is a beautifully charged one, texturally resplendent in the lowercase clamber of nature, the hissy brush of branch and canopy, the leafy scrunch of wandering feet. A satisfying minimalism conspiring with the knothole whirr of some aqualung and whispered disturbances on strung out heralds. Subtle magic pollinating in a sudden scattering of threadbare words to funnelling breath, or trembles of fluted exhale / intake suckling on a pebbling tide. A cognitive jostle of overlaps and mutating betweens that words struggle to adequately describe.
Following on with another dose of sculpturally sensitive sounds, the second side from (
ob od æourth‘s “Red Rowan Berries Dye Druid Robes Black”) is more dronal / electronic in nature. Its oscillating scoops trapped in watery mechanics, lilting in modulated warble and
glassy centrifuge, peppered in the soft warmth of rain-watered moss.
As with
Tristan Rhys Williams‘s first side, these pieces inspired by
The Mabinogion and the wildness of Anglesey vividly
pursue the arcane in moments that
pierce, catch you unawares in backward zip-ties and icy lances of stones dropped into a deep wells and what sounds like a brook’s hiss ascending wizened wood. An intricate brew of subtle strangeness flowing on the gentle glinting sustain slowly evaporating on a gong’s rippling reverberation suddenly wing-clipped in tapering reverse, all dying out on a kinderling of stray chord and voila-valved bow.
Environmentally bound goodness your haggled urban brain will thank you for.
-Michael Rodham-Heaps-
Dylan Eil Ton’s canvas is a beautifully charged one, texturally resplendent in the lowercase clamber of nature, the hissy brush of branch and canopy, the leafy scrunch of wandering feet. A satisfying minimalism conspiring with the knothole whirr of some aqualung and whispered disturbances on strung out heralds. Subtle magic pollinating in a sudden scattering of threadbare words to funnelling breath, or trembles of fluted exhale / intake suckling on a pebbling tide. A cognitive jostle of overlaps and mutating betweens that words struggle to adequately describe.
