36 & zakè

Stasis Sounds For Long​-​Distance Space Travel III

As soon as I finished writing about Somewhere, I remembered that I completely forgot to cover the third installment from the fantastic collaboration between Zach Frizzell and Dennis Huddleston, who appear here as 36 & zakè. For a moment, I almost didn’t do it, for a slight worry that others would perceive me as favouring the label and the artist appearing twice in this column for one reason or another. But as one of my good friends and strongest persevering artists of all time recently said, “fuck that.” Let’s do this. We don’t care what other people think – especially when it comes to beautiful music. And one can’t deny this fact, listening to the Final Approach in this interstellar journey. Although ambient music has [mostly] matured and expanded beyond synth-based electronica, its roots for many [listeners and composers alike] are firmly implanted in space music. My early intergalactic voyages were soundtracked by the likes of Klaus Schulze, Brian Eno, Jean-Michel Jarre, Vangelis, and Tangerine Dream. The current space travels are dominated by music from Zach and Dennis. To be honest, it’s often hard to pick up my past journey just with this volume. I almost want to start from the beginning each time (read my reviews of Part I and Part II). And where in past interplanetary explorations we were drifting and roaming, zooming in and locating, on this third [and final] part, we are landing and settling. We’ve arrived. We are home. “The time has come to reawaken from extended stasis as we approach the orbit of a potentially habitable exoplanet—designated the Blue New World. Join us for the Final Approach, as the first telemetry and visual data begin transmission, offering early glimpses of this uncharted and promising celestial destination.” As of this writing, only three copies of the limited-edition 180g “Exoazurine Blue” 2xLP set remain, while the black vinyl and 6-panel digipak CD are already sold out. But don’t dismiss the digital copy. It’s just as vivid, three-dimensional, and full. You can’t go wrong with this one, folks. Pour this in your gas tank and deploy.

Hammock

Nevertheless

For a while now, I’ve been avoiding listening to and writing about the latest album by one of my favourite ambient, orchestral, and shoegaze bands. It’s not like their music is already not affecting. It seems it’s growing sadder every day. Perhaps it’s just a function of time. I wonder if, mayhaps, as we age, we naturally accumulate more sadness all around us. Sure, there are some fleeting moments of “happiness”, occasionally sparking with electricity, like an unexpected circuit in the night. But even then, I am reminded that Jóhann’s no longer here. Marcus can no longer feel his pain. Ryuichi can no longer watch the full moon. Hammock‘s music captures the mood, feelings, and the inevitable perfectly across eleven ethereal pieces, turning imperceivable emotion into a requiem for the lost. “Amidst sorrow and grief, melodic motifs and refrains echo from the past to reanimate dreams and faded memories. As Nevertheless asks questions of permanence and purpose, beauty takes shape in the intangible—the traceless connections that gave, and give, meaning.” Here, Marc Byrd and Andrew Thompson’s evocations are impeccable. They don’t sit down to compose. They come together to remember. They gather for a quiet chat. And in that conversation they acknowledge. As you can see, I shared nothing here about the sound. I don’t feel there’s much to say. So it’s only appropriate that I end this with one of my favourite poems by Charles Bukowski.

there is a place in the heart that
will never be filled
 
a space
 
and even during the
best moments
and
the greatest times
times
 
we will know it
 
we will know it
more than
ever
 
there is a place in the heart that
will never be filled
and
 
we will wait
and
wait
 
in that space.