Child Of Microtone releases are, for me, like letters from long lost friends on the other side of the world complete with photographs and drawings in the margin. Little bundles of sonic art to transport you into the orbit of the source. Home made with care and grown for potency.
It strikes me that I don't really have any interest in writing exacting reviews about music. I'm more interested in how music intersects with my consciousness. What it triggers in me and what laterals it sends me along.
The first time I listened to Hick Smoke I was on a plane to Italy.
Hardly ideal listening conditions and I'd had to get up very early so my eyes were sore and my skin was prickly and felt like it didn't fit properly. My headphones though enclosed couldn't nullify the engine noise so I cranked the volume.
As Nodes began I felt a wave of disorientation caused by the tremolo and panning effects. My head felt like it was buzzing I thought about switching it off but then decided to ride the sucker out. By the time I'd hit Interstellar Allah I'd pretty well dissolved my surroundings into my daydreams. Eyes shut images flowing purple retina burns from the sun above the clouds. This pretty much continued for the rest of the album. By the end of the last track with its old 78 surface noise I was feeling almost vapourous in my seat not quite solid enough to reconnect. You know what they say 'your either on the plane or off the plane'. About this time the drinks cabinet arrived for a little in flight refuelling.
Doctor's Note
Two nights ago had a dream in which MV was playing an electric oud shaped instrument with paired strings. 57 Chevy surf green body with white pick guard.
Later he was in a TV studio walking away from me. A robotic voice over was saying 'come back I can make you a famous pop star'. MV ignored this and walked into a cave shaped opening in a polystyrene wall. After he had passed through stage hands appeared and sealed up the cave entrance with polystyrene blocks.
