Gently opening with a slow fade is ‘Black Tusk’, and from the outset, Loscil (Scott Morgan) lays his intentions out on the table for all to see. This edition is focused on the coastal mountains of the North American pacific north-west, a region of inspiration for countless artists, namely David Lynch and his Twin Peaks, more recently Rafael Anton Irisarri on his superb ‘The North Bend’. Most works inspired by the region have the same feel about them: a slow moving majestic unfolding of time, sometime gloomy, but always beautiful
Morgan is a composer of patience, allowing each piece to evolve on it’s own, all at almost glacial place. Aforementioned 10 minute opener ‘Black Tusk’ is clear evidence of this. Enormous synth pads roll slower than clouds, but in the same way, billowing, swelling, dropping. A muted flow of water, perhaps a melting glacier, runs through ‘Fromme’, as bass drops pervade quietly in the background, a 4/4 beat at 6bpm. Fan like synths blow across the surface. ‘Stave Peak’ is as majestic as the name implies. Reverential tones echo out into silence, evoking huge spaces, as other synths gradually build and fall underneath. This is like flying over a spectacular mountain vista, and easily creates this picture in your mind. ‘Neve’ is all ominous notes and atmospheres, calling to mind chasms and dark forgotten valleys. ‘Brohm Ridge’ is truly a journey, starting in the sun on the spine of a ridge, before slowly slipping off the side over a cliff to a dark valley, before perilously climbing out to the summit. Closer ‘Goat Mountain’ is a muted organ vista, standing at the foot of a fog enshrouded mountain and staring in awe for 10:31.
For music that moves at such a pace, it is somehow still very compelling, owing largely to your own imagination. Truly a work of stasis, and a masterwork of disciplined patience. To hell with grass: listening to this album is akin to watching mountains grow. Epic stuff.
Nick Giles
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