Review Summary: When you've found that special thing, you're flying without...wigs?
There've been some albums that have really benefitted from landing in my lap at the right time, in the perfect place and with my emotional state totally receptive. The right album at the right time is a holy grail of sorts but also it can become a nagging disappointment when you know an album would 'hit different' at some other time, place or circumstance; how many of these 'would be classics' are out there?
My emotional state as we sit here half way through 2023, three years into fatherhood and with a pandemic about two years in the rearview mirror, is necessarily stable with a near-constant heightened state of readiness. Some of the strongest individuals I know in my life aren't faring as well right now and this is a hard adaptation for me; this increased need for stability and strength to assist them has caused me to seek out sanctuary in music, and in particular ambient has become a godsend. Enter stage left the enigmatic Davendra Banhart, this time ably assisted by the always dependable Cate Le Bon.
All that preamble is to make the point that this album has put the sharpest focus on just how differently I react to a new album dependant on my current mood or 'need'. The general response to this album has been muted, many listeners still questioning where the indie folk stylings in his writing have disappeared to, others preferring another of his recent artistic experiments to this one; I can understand that reaction as I feel nine times out of ten it could well have been mine. Instead, after immersing myself in the works of Eno, of Cale, Arthur Russell, as well as a whole heap of ambient music this year, this 'ambient pop' record now feels instantly familiar and comforting. Le Bon must take an awful lot of credit here as this work has her fingerprints all over it, and more than that her vocal contributions really help flesh out these soundscapes too.
My fantasy 'ideal scenario' to listen to this album, the one that would potentially lift it to an all time favourite, would be something like waking up in a small retreat (there could be monks involved) located in the coastal suburbs of an unknown city somewhere vaguely tropical and humid. You would be presented with earphones to take a walk at nightfall, exploring the deserted streets and coastal paths with 'Flying Wig' accompanying you. I'm certain a week or so of that routine and those 'magic' hooks would sink in, but as these events are not going to manifest I'll just have to make do with rating this as one of the most pleasant, understated, and faintly evocative musical surprises of the year. It caught me at a good enough time anyway.
