One look at that cover should tell you all you need to know. Displaying a grainy image showing a private moment between family, the photo is at once patchy, momentary and endearingly ambiguous, and is indicative of the music as a whole. The latest album from Cologne-based sound artist Nils Quak – the first of a purported two to come out this year – is a gauzy and intimate record that so often hints at ideas but never reveals an overall picture of things.
Take album highlight ‘People don’t live here anymore’ with its light-as-air synths, gentle static and what sound like samples of manipulated bird squawks, which feels achingly short even at five minutes. Elsewhere ‘Sweet Entropy’ contains soft, chorused synths and a gentle beat made from vinyl hiss, and ‘November my dear’ uses its lonely piano strikes to stunning effect to punctuate its gentle ambience which gets cut off after only two minutes.
Indeed most of the tracks off of Long Forgotten Days … are all reasonably short; although it could be construed as frustratingly fragmented, it is never impenetrable and in most cases charmingly vague and begging for listeners to force their own images onto the sounds. This clearly is what Nils Quak wanted to achieve with this record: even eight minute closer ‘To Feel Nothing’ feels tense and unresolved – but in the best possible way.
Taking cues from ambient, noise and drone, this stunning and beautifully warm album was made for those who love to be alone.
Wyatt Lawton-Masi
