Crepuscular shades of drone pop from Turkish emissary Ekin Fil, returning on a bed of pads and keys in a filmic suite for California’s evergood Helen Scarsdale Agency.
By her barely-there and tingling presence, Ekin Fil emotes in gaseous contrails of piano, guitar and vocal in a very noirish, almost Lynchian way with ‘Coda’, conjuring imagery of nightfall in a cinematic otherworld that’s uncannily familiar and similar to society’s current purgatorial state of existence. Like her best work, Ekin Fil keeps her arrangements uncluttered, allowing simple soothing melodies to bloom in her harmonic haze of FX and cushion your head in the time-honoured wake of Elisabeth Fraser and Grouper.
In opener ‘Dew-Drops’ we recall the hypnagogic drift allure of Ensemble Economique too, while ‘Coda’ touches a more sallow sort of piano fugue state, but it really all comes together with the offkey, burned out dissonance of ‘Grand Illusion’, and a turn toward washed out noir cinemasound-ography with ‘On Sand’, into the opiated murk of ‘Unforgotten’ and where ‘Blowing’ leaves the strings to breeze with her Aeolian vocals. If you can handle some exquisite melancholy right now, this album could be an ideal soundtrack to your anguish, striking the note between sombre and dreamlike.
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Crepuscular shades of drone pop from Turkish emissary Ekin Fil, returning on a bed of pads and keys in a filmic suite for California’s evergood Helen Scarsdale Agency.
By her barely-there and tingling presence, Ekin Fil emotes in gaseous contrails of piano, guitar and vocal in a very noirish, almost Lynchian way with ‘Coda’, conjuring imagery of nightfall in a cinematic otherworld that’s uncannily familiar and similar to society’s current purgatorial state of existence. Like her best work, Ekin Fil keeps her arrangements uncluttered, allowing simple soothing melodies to bloom in her harmonic haze of FX and cushion your head in the time-honoured wake of Elisabeth Fraser and Grouper.
In opener ‘Dew-Drops’ we recall the hypnagogic drift allure of Ensemble Economique too, while ‘Coda’ touches a more sallow sort of piano fugue state, but it really all comes together with the offkey, burned out dissonance of ‘Grand Illusion’, and a turn toward washed out noir cinemasound-ography with ‘On Sand’, into the opiated murk of ‘Unforgotten’ and where ‘Blowing’ leaves the strings to breeze with her Aeolian vocals. If you can handle some exquisite melancholy right now, this album could be an ideal soundtrack to your anguish, striking the note between sombre and dreamlike.
24 bit audio
Crepuscular shades of drone pop from Turkish emissary Ekin Fil, returning on a bed of pads and keys in a filmic suite for California’s evergood Helen Scarsdale Agency.
By her barely-there and tingling presence, Ekin Fil emotes in gaseous contrails of piano, guitar and vocal in a very noirish, almost Lynchian way with ‘Coda’, conjuring imagery of nightfall in a cinematic otherworld that’s uncannily familiar and similar to society’s current purgatorial state of existence. Like her best work, Ekin Fil keeps her arrangements uncluttered, allowing simple soothing melodies to bloom in her harmonic haze of FX and cushion your head in the time-honoured wake of Elisabeth Fraser and Grouper.
In opener ‘Dew-Drops’ we recall the hypnagogic drift allure of Ensemble Economique too, while ‘Coda’ touches a more sallow sort of piano fugue state, but it really all comes together with the offkey, burned out dissonance of ‘Grand Illusion’, and a turn toward washed out noir cinemasound-ography with ‘On Sand’, into the opiated murk of ‘Unforgotten’ and where ‘Blowing’ leaves the strings to breeze with her Aeolian vocals. If you can handle some exquisite melancholy right now, this album could be an ideal soundtrack to your anguish, striking the note between sombre and dreamlike.
24 bit audio
Crepuscular shades of drone pop from Turkish emissary Ekin Fil, returning on a bed of pads and keys in a filmic suite for California’s evergood Helen Scarsdale Agency.
By her barely-there and tingling presence, Ekin Fil emotes in gaseous contrails of piano, guitar and vocal in a very noirish, almost Lynchian way with ‘Coda’, conjuring imagery of nightfall in a cinematic otherworld that’s uncannily familiar and similar to society’s current purgatorial state of existence. Like her best work, Ekin Fil keeps her arrangements uncluttered, allowing simple soothing melodies to bloom in her harmonic haze of FX and cushion your head in the time-honoured wake of Elisabeth Fraser and Grouper.
In opener ‘Dew-Drops’ we recall the hypnagogic drift allure of Ensemble Economique too, while ‘Coda’ touches a more sallow sort of piano fugue state, but it really all comes together with the offkey, burned out dissonance of ‘Grand Illusion’, and a turn toward washed out noir cinemasound-ography with ‘On Sand’, into the opiated murk of ‘Unforgotten’ and where ‘Blowing’ leaves the strings to breeze with her Aeolian vocals. If you can handle some exquisite melancholy right now, this album could be an ideal soundtrack to your anguish, striking the note between sombre and dreamlike.
Mastered by James Plotkin.
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Crepuscular shades of drone pop from Turkish emissary Ekin Fil, returning on a bed of pads and keys in a filmic suite for California’s evergood Helen Scarsdale Agency.
By her barely-there and tingling presence, Ekin Fil emotes in gaseous contrails of piano, guitar and vocal in a very noirish, almost Lynchian way with ‘Coda’, conjuring imagery of nightfall in a cinematic otherworld that’s uncannily familiar and similar to society’s current purgatorial state of existence. Like her best work, Ekin Fil keeps her arrangements uncluttered, allowing simple soothing melodies to bloom in her harmonic haze of FX and cushion your head in the time-honoured wake of Elisabeth Fraser and Grouper.
In opener ‘Dew-Drops’ we recall the hypnagogic drift allure of Ensemble Economique too, while ‘Coda’ touches a more sallow sort of piano fugue state, but it really all comes together with the offkey, burned out dissonance of ‘Grand Illusion’, and a turn toward washed out noir cinemasound-ography with ‘On Sand’, into the opiated murk of ‘Unforgotten’ and where ‘Blowing’ leaves the strings to breeze with her Aeolian vocals. If you can handle some exquisite melancholy right now, this album could be an ideal soundtrack to your anguish, striking the note between sombre and dreamlike.