Review Summary: the one with all that hollow space, where the breeze travels through and the listener resigns for the day
Note for future listens: pay a little more attention. Only when such focus is streamlined into this delicate slice of ambient will the details be uncloaked, unravelled. The weightless drone will reveal itself as the somewhat diaphanous, translucent quilt draped carefully over the textures shaking at the record’s core; take the coy song of some distant bird (because cliches can be affecting too), or the modular synth flourishes in
Light Leak reaching out like they’re trying to borrow a piece of the sun before it slips routinely into hibernation.
“inspired by nature and emotion”, it is, though it returns what it has borrowed generously.
Another note for the future, a tentative postulation: stick with this record, because it has the capacity to adopt quite the transitional bent. See,
Full Blossom takes shape only as it progresses; r beny presses play on his samples then shifts the pieces, the album wandering in from background listening to the very concrete end goal of
Blue Kings like the wistfulness of the past is imposing itself upon the urgency of the present. It is music to accompany your change at the same time as it undertakes its own. It’s warm and enveloping, though mostly it’s underscored by a dash of uncertainty, a mist of neither-here-not-there that resolves only in the stillness of retrospect. There resides the instance of clarity: retracing steps over the honeyed bass that murmurs in
Overgrowth, or the ever-present natural echo of
Ridge.
Really, it’s quite a lovely little paradox -- a snapshot of transience that leaves the ghost of a footprint on the environments it passes through. A similar spectre of the future awaits, arms outstretched in welcome embrace, just around the corner from where
Full Blossom lays its head.
