008, New Release

Sealadder – Tiny Territories

In rented cars, experience as a dog-eared biography, looking out windows and barely finishing sentences, the moment wants to let that natural outside hum and glistening atmosphere climb right in.

It can be a lot to look at, seeing wonderful landscapes turn and twist around opening corners and the green wrapping all of itself all over everything.

Even the shadows turn green under northern sky brush. There’s pieces or abstract notions that never catch the eye’s view, gone with the breezes and the clouds as they move slow-crawl fast hovering above for eternity, then long gone in time’s open-concept of a window. It flies away, time. It can stop too, if your willing to let it.

While watching water circle in rapid-random movements in constant search of the edge, in search of the end, longing to touch what it isn’t, the sheer mastery of the illuminating transparency laughingly mirrors thought back. It longs for no shape. It spreads thinner and thinner. Movement is silent. Constant flashes meditating on its contourless beginning and end. Even under ice. You can stare down and challenge it. Test nature’s choices. Get a small worry-feeling in the bottom of your stomach for a second or two, the ice may give way to weight and foreign particle, but you end up looking into your own eyes anyhow. The firmness doesn’t blink. Form with strength.

A daredevil bathed in a camera’s glowing blue and white, a moving body in the distance, the wind picks up and yet nothing cracks. Sliding movement sliding in close up.

Sitting now, at the table, looking out windows larger than walls, conducting musical research through open-gazed light-refraction and moisture-condensing sensory unload. Watching it melt.

And circling the woods and bay on foot, timing it, tiptoeing on ice thicker than the trunk. An expansive deep-drop below covered in white roughness, strange yet comforting your body to be someplace else, wandering, desolate and filled-up, half-way across, staring back in through the crisp glass at the seated apparition in deep lock-down. Brain toggling between the realities and whispers. There or here.

Sun is out.

To be two places at once. Eyes close as if dreaming. Dreaming closes. Reality lapping against the sides of the lodgings. Temperature crackling subtle hand-drawn lines in never-parallel geometry. Visible but mostly hidden.

The fallen snow piling up and holding strong, the reminder of time’s slow steps. There’s always more to come. The house settles in a similar key. Earth’s natural dissonance cancel. It echoes.

Disclosure’s partnership clause:

I’m more than a little excited to be releasing these solo meditations.

These explorations make me feel like I’m participating, like my ears are breathing, songs pumped by the human harmonium through a timeless expanse of floating heart-signal.

Lay back on the sweeping warmth, the rivers and sky visuals softly focus around the eyelids, under centered dial.

Tiny territories, like miniature little creative-thought-and-sound-worlds we can inhabit, we can take up sleep under a shared star-shelter. We fill in blank space with our own personal histories and leave the remaining blankness open to interpretation and revelry.

Borderless meaning is found and let go. A solitary rock in a fog of sea.

The lion’s share of recording was done at Lake St. Peter, up at day’s first offering, hitting the record button, staring into the zone and out the window. Then hiking. Then quiet nights.

Two ghost selves, one outside in cold-weather covering, covered warm and exploratory. The second in still portrait realism, working, creating, finding expression. Fingertip-time dissolving back into the universe, back into the first form, without the uncanny, more real than ghost.

All music written/improvised/performed/recorded in layered real time by Cheryl Fraser as Sealadder, with her Nord Lead 2X.

Finished off here in Toronto, Cheryl put the sequence/totality together, I worked on the rough mix and added some reverbs and Jim axed the pieces into master, the master ready for the hiss frame.

Limited to 30 tapes, coming very soon.

Hope you enjoy…

Thanks for listening + reading!
Kev

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