Tumgik
#Ambient Americana
haveyouheardthisband · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
118 notes · View notes
Tumblr media
Tracklist:
The Dead Flag Blues • East Hastings • Providence
Spotify ♪ Bandcamp ♪ YouTube
64 notes · View notes
mywifeleftme · 7 months
Text
196: Earth // The Bees Made Honey in the Lion's Skull
Tumblr media
The Bees Made Honey in the Lion's Skull Earth 2008, Southern Lord (Bandcamp)
The most money I’ve ever spent on a vinyl record is on the stupid fucking quadruple LP Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness boxed set, but that was only because I allegedly scuffed the first track on the first side of LP1 of my friend’s copy while putting it away at a party, so I had to buy him a replacement and got his old dinged one—but I’ll write about that another time. The most money I’ve ever spent on a vinyl record I wanted was on Earth’s The Bees Made Honey in the Lion’s Skull, and specifically on one of the editions bound in faux Bible leather that Southern Lord reissues from time to time. From the first time I heard the record back in 2008, from the first time I read the title really, Bees has held a strange fascination for me. Despite being a broke college kid, I ordered a Bees Made Honey hoodie using my first credit card and hemmed and hawed over whether to snag the leather record, though I didn’t even know how to use a turntable. I didn’t end up actually scoring a copy till more than a decade later, by which time I’d already pretty well carved the thing’s grooves so deep in my brain I didn’t need to listen anymore to hear its contents.
Tumblr media
The inner sleeve.
Still, there’s the pleasure of handling it, opening up the gatefold and reading the hoary language in elaborately-filigreed gold text:
“from strength sweetness from darkness light the bees made honey in the lion’s skull”
A1. Omens and Portents 1: The Driver A2: Rise to Glory B3: Miami Morning Coming Down II (Shine) B4. Engine of Ruin C5: Omens and Portents II: Carrion Crow C6: Hung from the Moon D7: The Bees Made Honey in the Lion’s Skull D8: Junkyard Priest
youtube
I grew up just religious enough to really fear God and love His language, especially as filtered through all the fantastical art that’s borrowed the diction of the King James Version to command a sense of gravitas. It’s a tone of voice that still compels me, and it’s the perfect dressing for this era of Earth’s looming, desertified music. Starting with 2005’s comeback Hex; or Printing in the Infernal Method, Earth has been working on a form of Western-inspired instrumental post-rock that looks to the Bible and fire-and-brimstone writers like Cormac McCarthy for words to match the weathered lurch of Dylan Carlson’s lithic guitar. Bees continues this direction, and it’s broadly considered the best of the band’s later efforts: something elemental captured in the songs; extra pristine production; sterling contributions from Steve Moore on a variety of pianos and organs, plus famed jazz guitarist Bill Frisell; and above all the languid pulse of drummer Adrienne Davies, the sheer weight of her pauses (best exemplified on the title track).
When Davies joined the band in 2002, she became the long-term musical partner Carlson had never really had, and her playing has become as distinctive a signature of Earth’s sound as his. In the exhaustive 2023 documentary Even Hell Has Its Heroes, her interview is the most enlightening from a musical perspective. An amateur when she began casually jamming with Carlson, she soon found that all of the drumming instructors and guides she consulted emphasized focusing on how to refine the angles of her playing, minimizing the time and effort required to play a beat. But for Davies, playing in a band whose rhythm swells and resides like the breathing of a massive steer, this advice ran counter: her arms wave in slow, swooping arcs, drawing out the tempo in the air before falling into the drums, letting gravity provide the consequential force.
Despite the band’s mugshot stares and stupendous volume, that signal phrase holds: “from strength sweetness / from darkness light.” There’s no violence in this songs, only some obdurate quality of endurance; no aggression, only flickers of the transcendent among the amps. That’s the notion embedded in its title, a nourishing work transpiring within sinister ruins.
youtube
196/365
8 notes · View notes
luuurien · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media
Lake Mary - Slow Grass
(Ambient Americana, Chamber Jazz, Contemporary Folk)
Spacious and aching, Chaz Prymek's latest release as Lake Mary is a heavenly combination of pastoral field recordings and thoughtful instrumentation, weaving lonely chamber jazz and melancholy folk around generous helpings of birdsong and natural ambiance. Slow Grass' defiance of sorrow allows it to hold close painful memories in the most beautiful ways.
☆☆☆☆☆
Slow Grass is about presence above anything. From the 20-minute runtime of its two pieces to how Chaz Prymek uses that time, the album embraces its ambient influences not just in sound but in its essence, refusing to make every moment a directly engaging one and ensuring there's ample space for the music to just breathe. It's not all too surprising, given Prymek's background in groups like Fuubutsushi and their gentle chamber jazz and The Spinnaker Ensemble's soothing new age/folk combinations, but his work as Lake Mary stands out with its sensitivity and raw emotion, the negative space between every guitar line or string drone given just as strong a meaning as the instrumental elements that shape each piece, Slow Grass not only a masterful piece of ambient folk but one of Prymek's most personal, founded on the relationship with his late dog Favorite the past fourteen years of her life and how their time spent together during her declining health brought him new perspective and unimaginable heartbreak. It's an album not only about loss but how important it is to give love and tenderness a place to grow within that empty space. The first of its two sides and the title track, Slow Grass sounds more like the last droplets from a rainy cloud than any genres the album finds itself around. Pushed forward by recordings of water and birdsong alongside Prymek's lightfooted fingerpicked guitar and Patrick Shiroishi's gentle clarinet melody (Shiroishi also brings saxophone, vocals and percussion), the title track's earliest moments are about patience and grace, Shiroishi's serene singing falling into place among the vibrant natural ambiance surrounding him and Prymek. There's a heightened sense of surprise and wonder to the moments Prymek does let his guitar ring out as long as it needs to, occasionally hammering hard on the strings to pull a harsh metallic punch out of them or playing with vibrato and how it subtly shapes a note as it continues to fade, Slow Grass so acutely aware of everything happening around it that you can start to feel like the music is an ecosystem of its own, capable of change and surviving on its own spirit regardless of if you're around to witness it or not. Considering all this, Slow Grass' final seven minutes becomes both a cathartic release and a testament to Prymek's gorgeous musicianship, noise slowly washing in as he whams down on his guitar like a dulcimer until enough commotion has been made for Paul Dehaven's synths to explode like midnight fireworks and Shiroishi's signature saxophone improvisations to sweep across the piece like a shooting star in slow motion, so much energy and passion and thrill coming out of absolutely nowhere and all the more precious for it. Both sides of Slow Grass are essential to the album's success, but it's this first opening piece that lays the framework for the second half's tenderness and defiance. So Long Favorite, the album's second half and a heartbreaking memorialization of his late dog Favorite, refuses to let sorrow be its leader. It's so soft and lush in ways music about loss rarely is, Prymek's eternal paradise for Favorite built with the help of Shiroishi's aforementioned instrumentation and Chris Jusell's heavenly string arrangements with such pure love and generosity poured into every second. That's not to say any sadness or heartache isn't present throughout So Long Favorite's 19-minute runtime, but it's not the kind of sadness that presses you down into the dirt and keeps you from moving forward, Prymek's sturdy and secure guitar work the sunlight that Jusell's flowery strings and Shiroishi's pastoral woodwinds need to cultivate the space Prymek needs for his late best friend. I would be lying if I didn't say that the loss of my own dogs in the past wasn't a massive reason why So Long Favorite took me places few other pieces of music can even get close to, but even for those who've never had pets there's an inherent vulnerability and ache to it you can't pull away from. It's so simply beautiful and to the point with how much Favorite means to Prymek and how strongly the music embodies her spirit and Prymek's love for her, and nothing more is needed for So Long Favorite to hold me at an emotional breaking point nothing else this year has. Slow Grass is not only heartfelt and tender, but defiantly so, Prymek sheltering the memories and emotions he holds dear and not letting grief overtake him, making music so sentimental and full of warmth to materialize his grief without letting it drown him. His treatment of painful memories and heartbreak with positivity and hope is nothing short of stunning, and Slow Grass only proves itself more beautiful for it, able to handle such difficult feelings with the grace and understanding of the natural world Prymek pulls so much inspiration from. Prymek's music always serves as a conduit for his emotions with nothing to get in the way of it, and Slow Grass does a perfect job containing all the love and tears and mementos Prymek and his dog will forever have with one another. Loss is always a terrible thing, but Slow Grass makes a case for endless joy and remembrance in the face of it.
2 notes · View notes
yopefriend · 11 months
Text
0 notes
joanofarc · 1 year
Audio
memoria, mariposa (2013).
i try to remember i’m far away but i’m still here
1 note · View note
theparanoid · 1 year
Text
youtube
Tumblr media
The Fun Years - Sea The Shroud / Janice Was Into Recovery
From The Album: One Quarter Descent (2014)
[Ambient, Drone, Electroacoustic, Turntable Music, Ambient Americana]
0 notes
br7ndons · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I SHOT AN ANGEL WITH MY FATHER'S RIFLE
313 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Level up your dark academia style ✨
Shop this look from Amazon
^direct link
64 notes · View notes
daisydecay1 · 5 days
Text
My EP The Book Of Daisy Decay Is Out now
It is so scary to put out something that's so vulnerable and personal but also exciting at the same time because I get to share more of my story through my art
I hope you all enjoy it as much as as I enjoyed making it and I guess it's not just my story anymore it's yours too
Thank you so much Mart!n and @crystalliseemusic for adding your amazing artistry and talent to The Angel Who Fell From Heaven, Saviour and Eternal Damnation
And thank you again @crystalliseemusic for mixing Saviour and I Love You This Much
Link In Bio To My Soundcloud Page
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
11 notes · View notes
alffeson · 12 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
(poem is written by me)
9 notes · View notes
americanhell · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
41 notes · View notes
Tumblr media
Tracklist:
A Long Way from Home • Fallow Property I • In the Heat of this Rot • Thea I • Eilin I • Vivianna I • Mary-Ann's Furnace • Heileigh Mountain • A Violent Becoming • Fallow Residence • Thea II • Rapid Eye Movement • Machine Enthusiasts • As Human as Loneliness • The Distant Sound of Raised Voices • Cage Room • Letter Never Sent • Fallow Property II (Unused) • Vivianna II • Young Death • An Excuse • The Tower of the Furnace I • The Tower of the Furnace II • Anya • Haunted • Moths I • Probably Dead I • Probably Dead II • Road System I • Road System II • Moths II • Eilin II (Unused) • Nostopath (Unused) • A Dying Body (Trailer) • Attempted Triangulation • Shame
Bandcamp ♪ YouTube
17 notes · View notes
kaaansasblues · 4 months
Text
I'm not gonna gatekeep, this guy makes great music
8 notes · View notes
luuurien · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
Old Saw - Sewn the Name
(Ambient Americana, Drone, Avant-Folk)
Moving from the pastures to the farmhouse, Old Saw’s latest album is a darker, dustier collection of ambient folk music where Americana and Appalachian folk are given jagged edges and cold textures. As the quintet tear apart the earthy loam of their sound, Sewn the Name leaves you stranded in some of their most immersive, evocative pieces to date.
☆☆☆☆☆
If you’ve ever spent an extended amount of time out in the country, you’ll know the distinct difference between how it feels at sunrise and after sunset. Early in the morning, when the sun is drifting just enough above the horizon to reveal the dew left atop the pastures and make the wheat sparkle in the wind, there’s an unspoken sense of safety and comfort in it all; when you can hear and see all the life moving around you, it’s hard to feel anything but warmth. It’s when the darkness consumes those very same fields, when the rustling past the edge of the fence becomes too nondescript to tell whether it’s wind or a wildcat, when every creak of the porch steps seeming to have doubled in volume, that the magic of open land reveals its true duality. For the New England based quintet Old Saw, both of these feelings are essential to their music, their masterful 2021 debut Country Tropics somewhere between the memory, the dream and the reality of American folk music, reeling fiddle drones and soaring pedal steel creating gorgeous backdrops for spindly banjos and dark orchestral bells and blurry organs to duck in and out of, a vast expanse of ambient country built on the idea of calling out to the open country without forcing a particular vision of it. Their latest release does much of the same, but chooses the darkness rather than the sunrise for more intimate country laments with an extra layer of mystique, Sewn the Name’s six pieces leaving more space for silence and colder textures. It’s nowhere near as welcoming as their debut, but Sewn the Name pushes you into these quieter, lonelier environments to make you hunt for the beauty inside all the mess.
With this greater emphasis on decay comes an embrace of new recording techniques, tape machine manipulation done by pedal steel player Henry Birdsey giving these songs weight and an acute awareness of how they move through time. There’s heavy tape hiss and crackling in midsection highlight Ira Dorset Suffering From Moonblindness, the titular fiddle player’s whining drones wrapped around reversed 12-string guitar and bell recordings to keep you from getting a full understanding of the piece’s mechanics, and the absolutely spellbinding Spinner’s Weave lends different fidelity to each instrumental part, layers of fiddle covered in a fuzzy haze while Al Lakey’s intricate 12-string improvisations sit crystal clear on top like flashes of sunlight reflecting atop lake water. If Country Tropics let you drift through its pedal steel and soaring string lines, Sewn the Name forces you to confront its physical limitations as music - not one of these songs gets close to the ten minute mark outside of centerpiece Highgate Ledger, and it’s not just so they can fit more songs into the runtime, the heavy banjos and creaking fiddle lines dominating closing piece Bobcat Sarabande never heading to a big crescendo or crash into silence. Here, the edges are rougher, the textures more unvarnished, Old Saw burrowing into the roots of American folk music and reveling in how rugged yet timeless sound of these instruments puts their gentle ambient music in such a precarious position.
It’s beautiful all the same, which is largely why Sewn the Name still achieves such heights despite being a more reserved experience. While many other ambient albums have succeeded in holding their music in a single space or feeling (Irrlicht, Music for Airports), Sewn the Name traces different paths that all stem from the same country road: Brooksville Trestle Remains is distinctly eerie with its wandering guitar work and long pedal steel whines, while the previous Weathervaning uses rich fiddle layers and trickling banjo improvisation to reach for the homey warmth of old folk songs, tethered to the roots of their sound while seeking to pull unique moods out of every individual song. It can almost feel intimidating the first few listens, like the quintet are trying to pull you out of the Country Tropics’ sun-drenched warmth and trap you in the dusty wine cellar, but after settling into the album there’s a permeable sense of grief and devotion within these pieces not near as present in their debut. Music with this deep a connection to American folk history will always be in some part worshiping Appalachian country music, but Old Saw’s ambient pieces make listening to them feel especially tender, Bob Driftwood’s intricate banjo contributions in Highgate Ledger and Weathervaning easy to imagine being part of a live folk group and Dorset’s magical fiddle work in every piece beautiful enough to be in any country band, but in these grooveless expanses their dedication to the technique and feel of these instruments becomes meditative, becomes careful and focused on evoking the places this folk music comes from rather than just performing songs in a traditional country style. It’s a tricky task to pull off, but Old Saw’s willingness to play with the usual ambient elements - sound manipulation, tape machines, minimalist arrangement styles - places their songs right in the perfect sweet spot between ambient and country, utilizing the former’s generous stretches or space and the latter’s emotional sensitivity for some of the most powerful instrumental music this year. Sewn the Name may lie on the moonlit end of ambient country, but by trading the genre’s established norms for gloomy Americana dirges Old Saw unlock whole new dimensions to their sound. For them, ambient country can be as cold as it is familiar, soaring as it is trapped in the past; through their refraction of American folk music through the lens of modern experimental music, Old Saw’s music feels especially out of time, Sewn the Name leaving all the rough edges so you can fall in love with the memories the band is sharing. It can be a tough album to crack, but once you do there’s few other albums this year with such a robust vision and vivid storytelling. The floors might creak and the fields intimidate past sunset, but Sewn the Name makes exploring the darkness beautiful all the same.
0 notes
cruel-nature-records · 6 months
Text
PRE-ORDER: Nonconnah ‘Shadows From The Walls Of Death’
https://cruelnaturerecordings.bandcamp.com/album/shadows-from-the-walls-of-death
NONCONNAH are Zachary and Denny Wilkerson Corsa, an experimental music duo who explore themes of memory and the past, through hallucinatory layers of guitar and the spectral decay inherent in ‘obsolete’ recording mediums. Drawing on sonic traditions as varied as ambient and drone music, shoegaze, noise music, psych-rock, post-rock, and the occasional touches of old time/Appalachian folk music.
The inspiration behind "Shadows From The Walls Of Death" is the Victorian eye-catching vivid wallpaper, laced with arsenic, that slowly poisoned occupants of houses and workers in the factories who produced it. It was also linked to the widespread cases of mental illness. Decorative and beautiful but potentially dangerous, both physically and psychologically.
The album takes its title from a book published in 1874, warning of the dangers and containing samples of said wallpaper. The cassette outer and inner cover art features examples of the wallpaper.
15 notes · View notes