During the album’s development, she turned her studio into a screening room for classic works of New German cinema. The questing for new and different influences is integral to Dalt’s creative process, and her assimilation of her sources and all of the intrinsic and extrinsic connotations and associations results in music which belongs neither to the artist nor her inspirations.
Swampy analogue rhythms squelch in ghostly trails of mist and pulse in the thick undergrowth on the four alien soundscapes Dalt conjures on this latest offering. Sparse and spare, the compositions exist as much in the space between the sounds as within the sounds themselves. Hums and whirring drones are barely present, instead casting a gauze-like veil over the creeping chill and general eeriness which emanates from the pieces.
In many respects, despite the importance of context and the process of creation to this richly atmospheric and somewhat unsettling work – unsettling because it doesn’t conform readily to any obvious established musical forms and ultimately doesn’t sound like it was created by human hands – to analyse in too much depth is to reduce its impact. It sounds in places like a soundtrack, but isn’t, and similarly, it sounds like it belongs to nothing at all, anywhere, ever. It works precisely because it doesn’t sit comfortably, but at the same time, it’s immersive, absorbing: the listener explores the strangeness, wandering lost amidst the semi-abstract images it evokes, as figures loom briefly from the gloam before disappearing again as if in a dream. And yes, perhaps it is all a dream...
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Lucrecia Dalt Online
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