Singing Dust
Billed as one of Australia's most mysterious jazz albums "Singing Dust" was originally released in 1986 and bolts together global new age sounds, FM disco, fourth world ambience, Cambridge folk and the spirited solo piano of Keith Jarrett - uh, yep. Properly out there.
Masterminded by Queensland-based jazz pianist Robert Welsh, "Singing Dust" is one of those rediscovered cult classics that's actually worthy of a reissue. And while it's 35 years old, the album shows as much disregard for genre trappings as you'd expect to hear now; sure, Welsh retains the loose skeleton of jazz, but stitches a sonic tapestry that's so expansive and vibrant that it's impossible to categorize.
Influenced by Arab writing, Welsh used Ghazal devotional poems translated by Aussie poet Francis Brabazon for lyrics, and fleshed those out into bizarre electro-acoustic songs. At times the album sounds (understandably) proggy, but Welsh's treatment is so unusual that there's no obvious comparison. 'Involution' is wobbly global disco, 'Let Me Take Your Name' fourth world solo piano, 'Song of the Reed' is a new age flute jam, while 'Love Flower' is electronically enhanced folk pop.
Incredibly weird, sincere music.
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Billed as one of Australia's most mysterious jazz albums "Singing Dust" was originally released in 1986 and bolts together global new age sounds, FM disco, fourth world ambience, Cambridge folk and the spirited solo piano of Keith Jarrett - uh, yep. Properly out there.
Masterminded by Queensland-based jazz pianist Robert Welsh, "Singing Dust" is one of those rediscovered cult classics that's actually worthy of a reissue. And while it's 35 years old, the album shows as much disregard for genre trappings as you'd expect to hear now; sure, Welsh retains the loose skeleton of jazz, but stitches a sonic tapestry that's so expansive and vibrant that it's impossible to categorize.
Influenced by Arab writing, Welsh used Ghazal devotional poems translated by Aussie poet Francis Brabazon for lyrics, and fleshed those out into bizarre electro-acoustic songs. At times the album sounds (understandably) proggy, but Welsh's treatment is so unusual that there's no obvious comparison. 'Involution' is wobbly global disco, 'Let Me Take Your Name' fourth world solo piano, 'Song of the Reed' is a new age flute jam, while 'Love Flower' is electronically enhanced folk pop.
Incredibly weird, sincere music.
Billed as one of Australia's most mysterious jazz albums "Singing Dust" was originally released in 1986 and bolts together global new age sounds, FM disco, fourth world ambience, Cambridge folk and the spirited solo piano of Keith Jarrett - uh, yep. Properly out there.
Masterminded by Queensland-based jazz pianist Robert Welsh, "Singing Dust" is one of those rediscovered cult classics that's actually worthy of a reissue. And while it's 35 years old, the album shows as much disregard for genre trappings as you'd expect to hear now; sure, Welsh retains the loose skeleton of jazz, but stitches a sonic tapestry that's so expansive and vibrant that it's impossible to categorize.
Influenced by Arab writing, Welsh used Ghazal devotional poems translated by Aussie poet Francis Brabazon for lyrics, and fleshed those out into bizarre electro-acoustic songs. At times the album sounds (understandably) proggy, but Welsh's treatment is so unusual that there's no obvious comparison. 'Involution' is wobbly global disco, 'Let Me Take Your Name' fourth world solo piano, 'Song of the Reed' is a new age flute jam, while 'Love Flower' is electronically enhanced folk pop.
Incredibly weird, sincere music.
Billed as one of Australia's most mysterious jazz albums "Singing Dust" was originally released in 1986 and bolts together global new age sounds, FM disco, fourth world ambience, Cambridge folk and the spirited solo piano of Keith Jarrett - uh, yep. Properly out there.
Masterminded by Queensland-based jazz pianist Robert Welsh, "Singing Dust" is one of those rediscovered cult classics that's actually worthy of a reissue. And while it's 35 years old, the album shows as much disregard for genre trappings as you'd expect to hear now; sure, Welsh retains the loose skeleton of jazz, but stitches a sonic tapestry that's so expansive and vibrant that it's impossible to categorize.
Influenced by Arab writing, Welsh used Ghazal devotional poems translated by Aussie poet Francis Brabazon for lyrics, and fleshed those out into bizarre electro-acoustic songs. At times the album sounds (understandably) proggy, but Welsh's treatment is so unusual that there's no obvious comparison. 'Involution' is wobbly global disco, 'Let Me Take Your Name' fourth world solo piano, 'Song of the Reed' is a new age flute jam, while 'Love Flower' is electronically enhanced folk pop.
Incredibly weird, sincere music.
2024 re-issue, transferred and remastered from original tapes by Dan Elleson and Mikey Young, superseding the imperfect 1986 pressing and fully realising Welsh’s expansive vision.
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Billed as one of Australia's most mysterious jazz albums "Singing Dust" was originally released in 1986 and bolts together global new age sounds, FM disco, fourth world ambience, Cambridge folk and the spirited solo piano of Keith Jarrett - uh, yep. Properly out there.
Masterminded by Queensland-based jazz pianist Robert Welsh, "Singing Dust" is one of those rediscovered cult classics that's actually worthy of a reissue. And while it's 35 years old, the album shows as much disregard for genre trappings as you'd expect to hear now; sure, Welsh retains the loose skeleton of jazz, but stitches a sonic tapestry that's so expansive and vibrant that it's impossible to categorize.
Influenced by Arab writing, Welsh used Ghazal devotional poems translated by Aussie poet Francis Brabazon for lyrics, and fleshed those out into bizarre electro-acoustic songs. At times the album sounds (understandably) proggy, but Welsh's treatment is so unusual that there's no obvious comparison. 'Involution' is wobbly global disco, 'Let Me Take Your Name' fourth world solo piano, 'Song of the Reed' is a new age flute jam, while 'Love Flower' is electronically enhanced folk pop.
Incredibly weird, sincere music.