Boomkat Product Review:
Rugged scorched-earth devotional drone-out from the always excellent Klara Lewis. Rhythmic noizze, power ambient intensity, tranquil minimalism, psychedelic vocal mayhem, and evocative soundtrack-ready textural bliss = well good.
Klara Lewis has asserted herself as one of the most interesting experimental ambient practitioners in a densely crowded field. Even so, live performances can be a tricky proposition for studio-focused musicians - but Lewis' sets are notoriously gestural and expressive, highlighting the powerful emotionality and sheer crushing weight of her sound.
This long-form recording of a set from 2018 in Montréal is a powerful document that shifts assuredly through her sonic spectrum, veering from crumbling noise into almost Maja Ratkje-esque vocal acrobatics. Lewis starts as she means to go on, twisting choral loops around loping rhythms and slowly filtering in Lynchian white noise - it sounds like a broken oil heating system in the basement of an abandoned church.
Lewis builds her atmosphere expertly, allowing the time required to enhance the sense of creeping dread; high pitched tones, bird sounds and a dense rumbling simmers almost to a boil, before vocal treatments bring us back down to earth. Her music works because it's so rooted in culture and history - introducing jazz, R&B, soul and folk vapors into her dense cloud of drone smoke.
Fans of Lawrence English, William Basinski, Pharmakon or Félicia Atkinson - ths one's for you.