paris paris, texas texas
mari maurice joins forces with OOH-Sounds boss Michele Pauli (aka Pardo) and French duo Glass on this lush, widescreen epic. A romantic blend of drawn-out guitar tones, hushed vocals and field recordings, it's one for fans of Daniel Lanois or even Ry Cooder.
The album started life as a set of improvisations between Pauli and Glass, who'd aimed to work on an experimental guitar album together, but once they shuttled the recordings over to maurice, the tone shifted considerably. Coupled with maurice's warm, nuanced vocals and environmental sounds, the echoing, distorted rolls of guitar take on a new form, and while the specter of the album's namesake - Wim Wenders' 1984 masterpiece - and its iconic soundtrack hangs in the rafters, 'paris, paris, texas, texas' tells its own story.
'still part of the ceiling' is a gentle, mysterious lullaby led by maurice's robotic croon. She sings over Pauli and Glass's snipped pedal steel warbles, adding the faintest electronic blips to offer a gritty, modernist counterpoint to the deserted wails. It's an unexpected blend, but one that works well, wrenching the music out of the timeline - a technique that continues on 'weather underground', when maurice interrupts melancholy slides with resampled clonks and harp-like trills.
The crew of players build up their momentum as slowly as Wenders, letting the emotions speak for themselves as they materialize into the whisper-quiet 'I dabbled at the keys of a Hammersmith organ (and I liked it)' and close on the gorgeous, bass-heavy 'orris butter'.
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mari maurice joins forces with OOH-Sounds boss Michele Pauli (aka Pardo) and French duo Glass on this lush, widescreen epic. A romantic blend of drawn-out guitar tones, hushed vocals and field recordings, it's one for fans of Daniel Lanois or even Ry Cooder.
The album started life as a set of improvisations between Pauli and Glass, who'd aimed to work on an experimental guitar album together, but once they shuttled the recordings over to maurice, the tone shifted considerably. Coupled with maurice's warm, nuanced vocals and environmental sounds, the echoing, distorted rolls of guitar take on a new form, and while the specter of the album's namesake - Wim Wenders' 1984 masterpiece - and its iconic soundtrack hangs in the rafters, 'paris, paris, texas, texas' tells its own story.
'still part of the ceiling' is a gentle, mysterious lullaby led by maurice's robotic croon. She sings over Pauli and Glass's snipped pedal steel warbles, adding the faintest electronic blips to offer a gritty, modernist counterpoint to the deserted wails. It's an unexpected blend, but one that works well, wrenching the music out of the timeline - a technique that continues on 'weather underground', when maurice interrupts melancholy slides with resampled clonks and harp-like trills.
The crew of players build up their momentum as slowly as Wenders, letting the emotions speak for themselves as they materialize into the whisper-quiet 'I dabbled at the keys of a Hammersmith organ (and I liked it)' and close on the gorgeous, bass-heavy 'orris butter'.
mari maurice joins forces with OOH-Sounds boss Michele Pauli (aka Pardo) and French duo Glass on this lush, widescreen epic. A romantic blend of drawn-out guitar tones, hushed vocals and field recordings, it's one for fans of Daniel Lanois or even Ry Cooder.
The album started life as a set of improvisations between Pauli and Glass, who'd aimed to work on an experimental guitar album together, but once they shuttled the recordings over to maurice, the tone shifted considerably. Coupled with maurice's warm, nuanced vocals and environmental sounds, the echoing, distorted rolls of guitar take on a new form, and while the specter of the album's namesake - Wim Wenders' 1984 masterpiece - and its iconic soundtrack hangs in the rafters, 'paris, paris, texas, texas' tells its own story.
'still part of the ceiling' is a gentle, mysterious lullaby led by maurice's robotic croon. She sings over Pauli and Glass's snipped pedal steel warbles, adding the faintest electronic blips to offer a gritty, modernist counterpoint to the deserted wails. It's an unexpected blend, but one that works well, wrenching the music out of the timeline - a technique that continues on 'weather underground', when maurice interrupts melancholy slides with resampled clonks and harp-like trills.
The crew of players build up their momentum as slowly as Wenders, letting the emotions speak for themselves as they materialize into the whisper-quiet 'I dabbled at the keys of a Hammersmith organ (and I liked it)' and close on the gorgeous, bass-heavy 'orris butter'.
mari maurice joins forces with OOH-Sounds boss Michele Pauli (aka Pardo) and French duo Glass on this lush, widescreen epic. A romantic blend of drawn-out guitar tones, hushed vocals and field recordings, it's one for fans of Daniel Lanois or even Ry Cooder.
The album started life as a set of improvisations between Pauli and Glass, who'd aimed to work on an experimental guitar album together, but once they shuttled the recordings over to maurice, the tone shifted considerably. Coupled with maurice's warm, nuanced vocals and environmental sounds, the echoing, distorted rolls of guitar take on a new form, and while the specter of the album's namesake - Wim Wenders' 1984 masterpiece - and its iconic soundtrack hangs in the rafters, 'paris, paris, texas, texas' tells its own story.
'still part of the ceiling' is a gentle, mysterious lullaby led by maurice's robotic croon. She sings over Pauli and Glass's snipped pedal steel warbles, adding the faintest electronic blips to offer a gritty, modernist counterpoint to the deserted wails. It's an unexpected blend, but one that works well, wrenching the music out of the timeline - a technique that continues on 'weather underground', when maurice interrupts melancholy slides with resampled clonks and harp-like trills.
The crew of players build up their momentum as slowly as Wenders, letting the emotions speak for themselves as they materialize into the whisper-quiet 'I dabbled at the keys of a Hammersmith organ (and I liked it)' and close on the gorgeous, bass-heavy 'orris butter'.
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mari maurice joins forces with OOH-Sounds boss Michele Pauli (aka Pardo) and French duo Glass on this lush, widescreen epic. A romantic blend of drawn-out guitar tones, hushed vocals and field recordings, it's one for fans of Daniel Lanois or even Ry Cooder.
The album started life as a set of improvisations between Pauli and Glass, who'd aimed to work on an experimental guitar album together, but once they shuttled the recordings over to maurice, the tone shifted considerably. Coupled with maurice's warm, nuanced vocals and environmental sounds, the echoing, distorted rolls of guitar take on a new form, and while the specter of the album's namesake - Wim Wenders' 1984 masterpiece - and its iconic soundtrack hangs in the rafters, 'paris, paris, texas, texas' tells its own story.
'still part of the ceiling' is a gentle, mysterious lullaby led by maurice's robotic croon. She sings over Pauli and Glass's snipped pedal steel warbles, adding the faintest electronic blips to offer a gritty, modernist counterpoint to the deserted wails. It's an unexpected blend, but one that works well, wrenching the music out of the timeline - a technique that continues on 'weather underground', when maurice interrupts melancholy slides with resampled clonks and harp-like trills.
The crew of players build up their momentum as slowly as Wenders, letting the emotions speak for themselves as they materialize into the whisper-quiet 'I dabbled at the keys of a Hammersmith organ (and I liked it)' and close on the gorgeous, bass-heavy 'orris butter'.