Things Are Sweeter When They're Lost
Craig Tattersall unspools a gorgeous new tape of disintegrated piano meditations and dusty lower case ephemera for Belgium’s Dauw label. It’s been over 4 years since we last heard from him and over 20 since we were first introduced to Tattersall’s uniquely brittle productions, first as part of Hood and The Remote Viewer, and subsequently as one half of The Boats and at the helm of the hugely loved Cotton Goods series. Despite being a constant presence around us throughout these last two decades, this just might be the most delicate, beautiful music we’ve heard from Tattersall to date.
‘things are sweeter when they’re lost’ is a fittingly melancholy notion for the music inside. On the A-side it’s a dreamily searching, silty flux of piano notes peeling in slow motion. Strings drift over, connoting cold breezes and infrasonic, spectral presences, but the effect is far from menacing, it’s more a tranquil shade of sublime, like those hours after midnight when the meridian sounds of road traffic and human life have ebbed off into the distance and you’re left with the sighing creaks of a room.
The sound is remarkably different on the B-side. Here the air gradually thickens with murkier sub-harmonic distortion, bordering on a seething sense of aggression relative to most of Tattersall’s other output, pushing the grim murk to a logical entropy that precipitates elegiac pauses for reflection and warbling closure.
There are so, so many operators out there who’ve clearly tried to divine the same atmosphere and mindset, but Tattersall has somehow always struck a different, more authentic note for us. He evokes the memory of some distant, formative music suspended in time and outlined in vague, half-remembered shapes, filled with love.
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Exclusive Boomkat edition, UV-printed tape housed in handmade artwork bound with obi strip. Includes an instant download dropped to your account, 100 copies only.
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Craig Tattersall unspools a gorgeous new tape of disintegrated piano meditations and dusty lower case ephemera for Belgium’s Dauw label. It’s been over 4 years since we last heard from him and over 20 since we were first introduced to Tattersall’s uniquely brittle productions, first as part of Hood and The Remote Viewer, and subsequently as one half of The Boats and at the helm of the hugely loved Cotton Goods series. Despite being a constant presence around us throughout these last two decades, this just might be the most delicate, beautiful music we’ve heard from Tattersall to date.
‘things are sweeter when they’re lost’ is a fittingly melancholy notion for the music inside. On the A-side it’s a dreamily searching, silty flux of piano notes peeling in slow motion. Strings drift over, connoting cold breezes and infrasonic, spectral presences, but the effect is far from menacing, it’s more a tranquil shade of sublime, like those hours after midnight when the meridian sounds of road traffic and human life have ebbed off into the distance and you’re left with the sighing creaks of a room.
The sound is remarkably different on the B-side. Here the air gradually thickens with murkier sub-harmonic distortion, bordering on a seething sense of aggression relative to most of Tattersall’s other output, pushing the grim murk to a logical entropy that precipitates elegiac pauses for reflection and warbling closure.
There are so, so many operators out there who’ve clearly tried to divine the same atmosphere and mindset, but Tattersall has somehow always struck a different, more authentic note for us. He evokes the memory of some distant, formative music suspended in time and outlined in vague, half-remembered shapes, filled with love.