Review Summary: The safest of safe places.
“This is an album for all who yearn for rest”, says Ruhe: as good a clue as any to the album’s role as the safest of safe places. Forget twitter disputes and industry hype, because Patriarchs released with a whisper, as a whisper. No stress here friends, just comfort.
Not that Ruhe doesn’t do anything interesting – he coats his composition with a veil of warbles and stutters, as if they only have just enough energy to make themselves heard – but
Patriarchs is, undeniably, a very easy listen. Melodies are very simple, despite the abundance of subtle clicks and whirs that creak around like fond, forgotten memories of dead relatives, and the permeating tape hiss keeps the album safe in a detached haze. Any sonic edges are ground down to a fuzz too safe for reality and airy drones give field recordings an otherworldly significance.
Still, Ruhe has something more here than a stock remedy to the pains of (modern) life. There’s a warmth beyond whale-song, and he draws up a distinct intimacy with vocal hums, wonderful piano timing at the end of “Towering” and acoustic guitar fiddles which take me back to so many mellow nights alone. These personal touches turn
Patriarchs from an escapist bubble to a place of reflection: enough humanity to turn our gaze to life but enough aural padding to make it pleasant. It conjures up emotions in that peculiar spot both happy and sad. Next to nostalgia, but not quite.
