It’s the second album for idiosyncratic bedroom musician Aaron Martin. Based in Kansas, Martin’ music is quite amazing, sparse, looped rickety emotion filled tunes, with cello, ukulele, organ, mandolin, recorder, glockenspiel, guitars, whistles and all manner of strange items used to create textures. It’s music that doesn’ fit into any preconceived genres. It sounds simultaneously naive yet highly nuanced. With classical influences, yet experimental folk arrangements. The music is sparse, often loose feeling yet the space and silence are just as important as the instruments he is playing. It’s slow solitary music, music for contemplation, with the erhu, Buddha chimes, Indian bell, snake charmer, xun all contributing to an introspective hypnotic quality that takes on almost spiritual proportions. It’s sombre work, still, quite austere at times with delicate cello and banjo motifs existing alongside more difficult sine tones, or scratchy textures, where the music transitions gradually into new interesting forms. There really isn’ anyone making music like this. River Water, primarily due to its sparse nature is more difficult than his debut, 2007′ Almond, definitely more challenging, with each tune taking longer to reveal itself, though the rewards now are greater. Martin is using field recordings, percussion, and voice now as well as mandolin, a casio, guitars and of course items like a candleholder, guitar knife, and cd envelope to create music. Yet the real key is the form. I don’ know what this is.
Bob Baker Fish
