Graham Richardson’s second full-length exists as a memorial volume of the past, one which is haunted by the demons of actuality. Old rural England, now idealized in memory, becomes the object of a poetic longing. In an act of recollection, Richardson conjures its specter with a fragile balance of organ swathes emitting an ethereal greyness, invested with rustic acoustic guitar lines, stately piano, and dangerously orbiting sonic detritus.
Richardson stands by a conventional linear vocabulary when approaching ambient music. The silvery opening runs of “Reasons To Go” turn with dark effortlessness to intensity and slip gracefully back again. As on his debut, however, these pieces are occasionally followed by others whose patterns don’t exactly fit in with the sort of tapestry he is trying to weave. These moments are more seldom than before, though, with Richardson embracing and refining his strengths, namely stark and fairly basic ambient pieces with a rose-tinted darkness lurking underneath slowly blossoming harmonies. What is more plentiful are the highlights: “Points Bridge” features a tantalizing trickle of acoustic guitar, sounding not unlike a distant stream, against some tautly paced, brooding atmospherics while “Saved By A Helicopter” is a solo piano piece that has the untouchable beauty of the stars. In these places and others, Richardson steps outside of his romantic recollections of England and attains to something more universal. These Places Are Now Ruins is a fine step forward.
Max Schaefer
