Glowworm

Music possesses transforming powers. By moving its sound waves in time, it’s able to guide us through the past and the future. For example, it’s been nearly eight years since I listened to the Daughter‘s 2016 release, Not To Disappear – an album that was tightly intertwined with a particular set of circumstances and some potent feelings in my life. An album which I purposely buried deep in my memory [and some cardboard boxes] so that, at last, I can breathe. The other day, I uncovered this snapshot of time and relistened to it in one sitting. And all of the walls I’ve built fell apart, and all has returned, once again, with those feelings. It’s good, and it’s bad, as music can heal, but it also can pick at the scabs with its incessant weeping. And so, instead, I pick out a brand new release, one which I use like a thick coat of paint to brush over the wounds and repair. In this particular case, the remedy comes courtesy of Glowworm, a duo of guitarist Kevin Scott Davis and pianist and vocalist Asia Dojnikowska. That healing begins from the very first track, as the soft, warming tones wash over the edges. From the deep-heated bass to the light-whispered voice, every guitar strum, and each piano key, the music of Harvest is an instant relief for the wandering mind. And even though I admit, I take some sort of unexplainable pleasure in melancholy, darkness and gloom, I also enjoy to be basked in the light of a particular type of wistful, positive, and powerful music. If you are a fan of Hammock, Slow Meadow and Sigur Rós, then you’ll know what I mean and will instantly appreciate the sound of Glowworm.