It sucks. And it drains. We slip into the system through cracks we cannot see, crevices we cannot reach, go down along gluttony into absolute nothingness. There are hundreds of us, at bastion's end. Such urgency. So ready. Void of all meaning. Utterly chaotic. Roped in and lasso'd, it consumes all the riffs, just once, for good measure. And lost they become, into expanses of redundant memory. How are we remembered? What do the hundreds go by? Can it be rhythm or articulation or timbre or an attribute unscathed by human perception? For there exists all and all is already said and sung. You think you matter. Then you wake.
vivid memory of this album is that I listened to it during my (I think) final exams at school before I graduated. something about it was perfect and I did pretty well so thanks cloudkicker very cool katsumashi
Ten gorgeous compositions from Iceland’s Gísli Gunnarsson that ride the line between ambient & modern classical. Breathtaking. Bandcamp New & Notable Nov 25, 2023
I love how he plays around with this central idea but it's interesting and new every time. This is the album I point people to whenever I have the privilege of introducing them to Sithu Aye. tacos500