The prolific mari maurice merges her soft-focus ambient Americana with sci-fi-tinged chamber minimalism and gurgling free noise on 'lacuna and parlor', her most focused and time-dilating full-length yet.
Although the humid opener 'waltz (in memoriam old ways of living)' harks back to last year's 'Strawberry Season' with its pliable lap steel phrases and weightless orchestral flourishes, maurice immediately hits us with 'blanking intervals', a 20-minute epic that outlines the album's aesthetic progression. Bizarre and strangely affecting, this one's built around dilapidated staccato instrumentation that accents maurice's tender, windswept twangs. It's almost like Bang on a Can does Gram Parsons, until maurice interjects with her precarious Auto-tuned vocals, yanking us in a different direction entirely. The duration allows maurice to work on minute details that only reveal themselves on the umpteenth listen, bespoke patches of weightless ambience, delicate chord changes and microscopic rhythmic fluxes.
The mood is set, and maurice uses the rest of the album to poke further into her process, figuring out how to tease apart her sound without losing its essence. On 'leap year compersion', stuttering organ-like tones and glassy, synthesised shards wash against Louisville folk star Sarah Beth Tomberlin's wordless moans, melting into the instrumentation until it's not clear what's artificial and what's not. 'materials for memory' is even more mysterious: on the surface, it's a slowed-down fiddle experiment, but maurice plays sets the pitch into a disorientating waver, blurring the timeline next to her evocative, creaky environmental recordings. She turns familiar baroque phrasing into a chilly, cinematic recital on 'an(other) cadence', and plays us out with the album's haziest track 'adagio for pedal steel ensemble and overdubbed room', blanketing her fictile pedal steel tones in faint pads, fragile rhythms and ASMR clatters.
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The prolific mari maurice merges her soft-focus ambient Americana with sci-fi-tinged chamber minimalism and gurgling free noise on 'lacuna and parlor', her most focused and time-dilating full-length yet.
Although the humid opener 'waltz (in memoriam old ways of living)' harks back to last year's 'Strawberry Season' with its pliable lap steel phrases and weightless orchestral flourishes, maurice immediately hits us with 'blanking intervals', a 20-minute epic that outlines the album's aesthetic progression. Bizarre and strangely affecting, this one's built around dilapidated staccato instrumentation that accents maurice's tender, windswept twangs. It's almost like Bang on a Can does Gram Parsons, until maurice interjects with her precarious Auto-tuned vocals, yanking us in a different direction entirely. The duration allows maurice to work on minute details that only reveal themselves on the umpteenth listen, bespoke patches of weightless ambience, delicate chord changes and microscopic rhythmic fluxes.
The mood is set, and maurice uses the rest of the album to poke further into her process, figuring out how to tease apart her sound without losing its essence. On 'leap year compersion', stuttering organ-like tones and glassy, synthesised shards wash against Louisville folk star Sarah Beth Tomberlin's wordless moans, melting into the instrumentation until it's not clear what's artificial and what's not. 'materials for memory' is even more mysterious: on the surface, it's a slowed-down fiddle experiment, but maurice plays sets the pitch into a disorientating waver, blurring the timeline next to her evocative, creaky environmental recordings. She turns familiar baroque phrasing into a chilly, cinematic recital on 'an(other) cadence', and plays us out with the album's haziest track 'adagio for pedal steel ensemble and overdubbed room', blanketing her fictile pedal steel tones in faint pads, fragile rhythms and ASMR clatters.
The prolific mari maurice merges her soft-focus ambient Americana with sci-fi-tinged chamber minimalism and gurgling free noise on 'lacuna and parlor', her most focused and time-dilating full-length yet.
Although the humid opener 'waltz (in memoriam old ways of living)' harks back to last year's 'Strawberry Season' with its pliable lap steel phrases and weightless orchestral flourishes, maurice immediately hits us with 'blanking intervals', a 20-minute epic that outlines the album's aesthetic progression. Bizarre and strangely affecting, this one's built around dilapidated staccato instrumentation that accents maurice's tender, windswept twangs. It's almost like Bang on a Can does Gram Parsons, until maurice interjects with her precarious Auto-tuned vocals, yanking us in a different direction entirely. The duration allows maurice to work on minute details that only reveal themselves on the umpteenth listen, bespoke patches of weightless ambience, delicate chord changes and microscopic rhythmic fluxes.
The mood is set, and maurice uses the rest of the album to poke further into her process, figuring out how to tease apart her sound without losing its essence. On 'leap year compersion', stuttering organ-like tones and glassy, synthesised shards wash against Louisville folk star Sarah Beth Tomberlin's wordless moans, melting into the instrumentation until it's not clear what's artificial and what's not. 'materials for memory' is even more mysterious: on the surface, it's a slowed-down fiddle experiment, but maurice plays sets the pitch into a disorientating waver, blurring the timeline next to her evocative, creaky environmental recordings. She turns familiar baroque phrasing into a chilly, cinematic recital on 'an(other) cadence', and plays us out with the album's haziest track 'adagio for pedal steel ensemble and overdubbed room', blanketing her fictile pedal steel tones in faint pads, fragile rhythms and ASMR clatters.
The prolific mari maurice merges her soft-focus ambient Americana with sci-fi-tinged chamber minimalism and gurgling free noise on 'lacuna and parlor', her most focused and time-dilating full-length yet.
Although the humid opener 'waltz (in memoriam old ways of living)' harks back to last year's 'Strawberry Season' with its pliable lap steel phrases and weightless orchestral flourishes, maurice immediately hits us with 'blanking intervals', a 20-minute epic that outlines the album's aesthetic progression. Bizarre and strangely affecting, this one's built around dilapidated staccato instrumentation that accents maurice's tender, windswept twangs. It's almost like Bang on a Can does Gram Parsons, until maurice interjects with her precarious Auto-tuned vocals, yanking us in a different direction entirely. The duration allows maurice to work on minute details that only reveal themselves on the umpteenth listen, bespoke patches of weightless ambience, delicate chord changes and microscopic rhythmic fluxes.
The mood is set, and maurice uses the rest of the album to poke further into her process, figuring out how to tease apart her sound without losing its essence. On 'leap year compersion', stuttering organ-like tones and glassy, synthesised shards wash against Louisville folk star Sarah Beth Tomberlin's wordless moans, melting into the instrumentation until it's not clear what's artificial and what's not. 'materials for memory' is even more mysterious: on the surface, it's a slowed-down fiddle experiment, but maurice plays sets the pitch into a disorientating waver, blurring the timeline next to her evocative, creaky environmental recordings. She turns familiar baroque phrasing into a chilly, cinematic recital on 'an(other) cadence', and plays us out with the album's haziest track 'adagio for pedal steel ensemble and overdubbed room', blanketing her fictile pedal steel tones in faint pads, fragile rhythms and ASMR clatters.
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The prolific mari maurice merges her soft-focus ambient Americana with sci-fi-tinged chamber minimalism and gurgling free noise on 'lacuna and parlor', her most focused and time-dilating full-length yet.
Although the humid opener 'waltz (in memoriam old ways of living)' harks back to last year's 'Strawberry Season' with its pliable lap steel phrases and weightless orchestral flourishes, maurice immediately hits us with 'blanking intervals', a 20-minute epic that outlines the album's aesthetic progression. Bizarre and strangely affecting, this one's built around dilapidated staccato instrumentation that accents maurice's tender, windswept twangs. It's almost like Bang on a Can does Gram Parsons, until maurice interjects with her precarious Auto-tuned vocals, yanking us in a different direction entirely. The duration allows maurice to work on minute details that only reveal themselves on the umpteenth listen, bespoke patches of weightless ambience, delicate chord changes and microscopic rhythmic fluxes.
The mood is set, and maurice uses the rest of the album to poke further into her process, figuring out how to tease apart her sound without losing its essence. On 'leap year compersion', stuttering organ-like tones and glassy, synthesised shards wash against Louisville folk star Sarah Beth Tomberlin's wordless moans, melting into the instrumentation until it's not clear what's artificial and what's not. 'materials for memory' is even more mysterious: on the surface, it's a slowed-down fiddle experiment, but maurice plays sets the pitch into a disorientating waver, blurring the timeline next to her evocative, creaky environmental recordings. She turns familiar baroque phrasing into a chilly, cinematic recital on 'an(other) cadence', and plays us out with the album's haziest track 'adagio for pedal steel ensemble and overdubbed room', blanketing her fictile pedal steel tones in faint pads, fragile rhythms and ASMR clatters.
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The prolific mari maurice merges her soft-focus ambient Americana with sci-fi-tinged chamber minimalism and gurgling free noise on 'lacuna and parlor', her most focused and time-dilating full-length yet.
Although the humid opener 'waltz (in memoriam old ways of living)' harks back to last year's 'Strawberry Season' with its pliable lap steel phrases and weightless orchestral flourishes, maurice immediately hits us with 'blanking intervals', a 20-minute epic that outlines the album's aesthetic progression. Bizarre and strangely affecting, this one's built around dilapidated staccato instrumentation that accents maurice's tender, windswept twangs. It's almost like Bang on a Can does Gram Parsons, until maurice interjects with her precarious Auto-tuned vocals, yanking us in a different direction entirely. The duration allows maurice to work on minute details that only reveal themselves on the umpteenth listen, bespoke patches of weightless ambience, delicate chord changes and microscopic rhythmic fluxes.
The mood is set, and maurice uses the rest of the album to poke further into her process, figuring out how to tease apart her sound without losing its essence. On 'leap year compersion', stuttering organ-like tones and glassy, synthesised shards wash against Louisville folk star Sarah Beth Tomberlin's wordless moans, melting into the instrumentation until it's not clear what's artificial and what's not. 'materials for memory' is even more mysterious: on the surface, it's a slowed-down fiddle experiment, but maurice plays sets the pitch into a disorientating waver, blurring the timeline next to her evocative, creaky environmental recordings. She turns familiar baroque phrasing into a chilly, cinematic recital on 'an(other) cadence', and plays us out with the album's haziest track 'adagio for pedal steel ensemble and overdubbed room', blanketing her fictile pedal steel tones in faint pads, fragile rhythms and ASMR clatters.