Donato Wharton's blend of layered acoustic guitar, slivers of broken piano, barely audible microscopic electronic malfunctioning and radiant red textured warmth sounds as if it was recorded as a soundtrack for the most precious kind of daydream. The tracks here seem to effortlessly combine the crackles of a digital campfire with soulful, processed guitars, somehow fusing into a timeless, heart stopping ghost of melody and introspection. This year has been a good one for this kind of intimate, other-wordly blend of ideas bled into traditional acoustic songwriting, electronic experimentation and an almost neo-classical approach to composition. The same names keep on cropping up, but think here of a more fragile To Rococo Rot, a deconstructed Remote Viewer, a midnight fuelled Animal Collective or maybe an angelic counterpart to Sylvain Chaveau and Max Richter - music that doesn't really fit into any pigeon-hole or preset, all that you know is that within its broken frame it sounds unstoppably beautiful. Highly recommended.
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Donato Wharton's blend of layered acoustic guitar, slivers of broken piano, barely audible microscopic electronic malfunctioning and radiant red textured warmth sounds as if it was recorded as a soundtrack for the most precious kind of daydream. The tracks here seem to effortlessly combine the crackles of a digital campfire with soulful, processed guitars, somehow fusing into a timeless, heart stopping ghost of melody and introspection. This year has been a good one for this kind of intimate, other-wordly blend of ideas bled into traditional acoustic songwriting, electronic experimentation and an almost neo-classical approach to composition. The same names keep on cropping up, but think here of a more fragile To Rococo Rot, a deconstructed Remote Viewer, a midnight fuelled Animal Collective or maybe an angelic counterpart to Sylvain Chaveau and Max Richter - music that doesn't really fit into any pigeon-hole or preset, all that you know is that within its broken frame it sounds unstoppably beautiful. Highly recommended.
Donato Wharton's blend of layered acoustic guitar, slivers of broken piano, barely audible microscopic electronic malfunctioning and radiant red textured warmth sounds as if it was recorded as a soundtrack for the most precious kind of daydream. The tracks here seem to effortlessly combine the crackles of a digital campfire with soulful, processed guitars, somehow fusing into a timeless, heart stopping ghost of melody and introspection. This year has been a good one for this kind of intimate, other-wordly blend of ideas bled into traditional acoustic songwriting, electronic experimentation and an almost neo-classical approach to composition. The same names keep on cropping up, but think here of a more fragile To Rococo Rot, a deconstructed Remote Viewer, a midnight fuelled Animal Collective or maybe an angelic counterpart to Sylvain Chaveau and Max Richter - music that doesn't really fit into any pigeon-hole or preset, all that you know is that within its broken frame it sounds unstoppably beautiful. Highly recommended.