Prolific Aussie don Lawrence English pairs up with Japanese composer and pianist Akira Kosemura on 'Selene', suspending languid motifs in Harold Budd-strength reverb over blissful synth drones and shortwave static.
Billed as "a speculative hymn to the visions of the celestial zones that spill ever outward", English and Kosemura peer into the heavens on this one, blissfully bobbing back and forth between nebulous abstraction and cinematic sentimentality. Kosemura - who has penned a number of major film scores at this point - plays piano, while English is left to deal with treatments, electronics and his trusty shortwave radio.
It's a split that works well: Kosemura's widescreen Satie-like phrases pull the focus and English is able to lay out the landscape, filling in the gaps with swirling ambience, moody low-end throbs and restrained harmonies. The album hits its stride when English is more adventurous with his processes, mutating Kosemura's piano into fractal tremolo moans on 'Twilight Wave' and ghostly choruses on 'Tint of Ionosphere'. These more psychedelic moments make the album's dreamy, sentimental finale 'Mirroring Feldspar' hit that much harder.
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Prolific Aussie don Lawrence English pairs up with Japanese composer and pianist Akira Kosemura on 'Selene', suspending languid motifs in Harold Budd-strength reverb over blissful synth drones and shortwave static.
Billed as "a speculative hymn to the visions of the celestial zones that spill ever outward", English and Kosemura peer into the heavens on this one, blissfully bobbing back and forth between nebulous abstraction and cinematic sentimentality. Kosemura - who has penned a number of major film scores at this point - plays piano, while English is left to deal with treatments, electronics and his trusty shortwave radio.
It's a split that works well: Kosemura's widescreen Satie-like phrases pull the focus and English is able to lay out the landscape, filling in the gaps with swirling ambience, moody low-end throbs and restrained harmonies. The album hits its stride when English is more adventurous with his processes, mutating Kosemura's piano into fractal tremolo moans on 'Twilight Wave' and ghostly choruses on 'Tint of Ionosphere'. These more psychedelic moments make the album's dreamy, sentimental finale 'Mirroring Feldspar' hit that much harder.
Prolific Aussie don Lawrence English pairs up with Japanese composer and pianist Akira Kosemura on 'Selene', suspending languid motifs in Harold Budd-strength reverb over blissful synth drones and shortwave static.
Billed as "a speculative hymn to the visions of the celestial zones that spill ever outward", English and Kosemura peer into the heavens on this one, blissfully bobbing back and forth between nebulous abstraction and cinematic sentimentality. Kosemura - who has penned a number of major film scores at this point - plays piano, while English is left to deal with treatments, electronics and his trusty shortwave radio.
It's a split that works well: Kosemura's widescreen Satie-like phrases pull the focus and English is able to lay out the landscape, filling in the gaps with swirling ambience, moody low-end throbs and restrained harmonies. The album hits its stride when English is more adventurous with his processes, mutating Kosemura's piano into fractal tremolo moans on 'Twilight Wave' and ghostly choruses on 'Tint of Ionosphere'. These more psychedelic moments make the album's dreamy, sentimental finale 'Mirroring Feldspar' hit that much harder.
Prolific Aussie don Lawrence English pairs up with Japanese composer and pianist Akira Kosemura on 'Selene', suspending languid motifs in Harold Budd-strength reverb over blissful synth drones and shortwave static.
Billed as "a speculative hymn to the visions of the celestial zones that spill ever outward", English and Kosemura peer into the heavens on this one, blissfully bobbing back and forth between nebulous abstraction and cinematic sentimentality. Kosemura - who has penned a number of major film scores at this point - plays piano, while English is left to deal with treatments, electronics and his trusty shortwave radio.
It's a split that works well: Kosemura's widescreen Satie-like phrases pull the focus and English is able to lay out the landscape, filling in the gaps with swirling ambience, moody low-end throbs and restrained harmonies. The album hits its stride when English is more adventurous with his processes, mutating Kosemura's piano into fractal tremolo moans on 'Twilight Wave' and ghostly choruses on 'Tint of Ionosphere'. These more psychedelic moments make the album's dreamy, sentimental finale 'Mirroring Feldspar' hit that much harder.
Limited edition cloudy white coloured vinyl.
Available To Order (Estimated Shipping between 7-14 Working Days)
This item is to the best of our knowledge available to us from the supplier and should ship to you within the time-frame indicated. If there are any unforeseen issues with availability we will notify you immediately
Prolific Aussie don Lawrence English pairs up with Japanese composer and pianist Akira Kosemura on 'Selene', suspending languid motifs in Harold Budd-strength reverb over blissful synth drones and shortwave static.
Billed as "a speculative hymn to the visions of the celestial zones that spill ever outward", English and Kosemura peer into the heavens on this one, blissfully bobbing back and forth between nebulous abstraction and cinematic sentimentality. Kosemura - who has penned a number of major film scores at this point - plays piano, while English is left to deal with treatments, electronics and his trusty shortwave radio.
It's a split that works well: Kosemura's widescreen Satie-like phrases pull the focus and English is able to lay out the landscape, filling in the gaps with swirling ambience, moody low-end throbs and restrained harmonies. The album hits its stride when English is more adventurous with his processes, mutating Kosemura's piano into fractal tremolo moans on 'Twilight Wave' and ghostly choruses on 'Tint of Ionosphere'. These more psychedelic moments make the album's dreamy, sentimental finale 'Mirroring Feldspar' hit that much harder.
Black vinyl.
Available To Order (Estimated Shipping between 7-14 Working Days)
This item is to the best of our knowledge available to us from the supplier and should ship to you within the time-frame indicated. If there are any unforeseen issues with availability we will notify you immediately
Prolific Aussie don Lawrence English pairs up with Japanese composer and pianist Akira Kosemura on 'Selene', suspending languid motifs in Harold Budd-strength reverb over blissful synth drones and shortwave static.
Billed as "a speculative hymn to the visions of the celestial zones that spill ever outward", English and Kosemura peer into the heavens on this one, blissfully bobbing back and forth between nebulous abstraction and cinematic sentimentality. Kosemura - who has penned a number of major film scores at this point - plays piano, while English is left to deal with treatments, electronics and his trusty shortwave radio.
It's a split that works well: Kosemura's widescreen Satie-like phrases pull the focus and English is able to lay out the landscape, filling in the gaps with swirling ambience, moody low-end throbs and restrained harmonies. The album hits its stride when English is more adventurous with his processes, mutating Kosemura's piano into fractal tremolo moans on 'Twilight Wave' and ghostly choruses on 'Tint of Ionosphere'. These more psychedelic moments make the album's dreamy, sentimental finale 'Mirroring Feldspar' hit that much harder.
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Prolific Aussie don Lawrence English pairs up with Japanese composer and pianist Akira Kosemura on 'Selene', suspending languid motifs in Harold Budd-strength reverb over blissful synth drones and shortwave static.
Billed as "a speculative hymn to the visions of the celestial zones that spill ever outward", English and Kosemura peer into the heavens on this one, blissfully bobbing back and forth between nebulous abstraction and cinematic sentimentality. Kosemura - who has penned a number of major film scores at this point - plays piano, while English is left to deal with treatments, electronics and his trusty shortwave radio.
It's a split that works well: Kosemura's widescreen Satie-like phrases pull the focus and English is able to lay out the landscape, filling in the gaps with swirling ambience, moody low-end throbs and restrained harmonies. The album hits its stride when English is more adventurous with his processes, mutating Kosemura's piano into fractal tremolo moans on 'Twilight Wave' and ghostly choruses on 'Tint of Ionosphere'. These more psychedelic moments make the album's dreamy, sentimental finale 'Mirroring Feldspar' hit that much harder.