Review Summary: Sometimes we all need a trip down memory lane.
Ambient is a broad genre that takes on many characteristics. You have stuff that is extra dark and haunting, you have the super monotonous, droning stuff, the experimental side, the poppy bedroom avenue and then you have certain artists that go for a more meditative and lighter sound. Ecovillage is a two-man group from Sweden and
Sacred World is an ambient/new age album that is full of serene soundscapes and a nostalgia-based dreaminess that will have you reminiscing on your childhood.
This album gives me a lot of Virginia Astley vibes the way that all of the melodies are layered to perfection. Think of your dream vacation in a place like Hawaii as the waterfall sound effects entrenched your thoughts and the various nature recordings soak into your pores. There's a certain warm and subtle folkiness that peaks into the acoustics that makes you feel as if you're sunbathing on a beach surrounded by crystal clear water.
What really impresses me about this album is all of the different instruments mixed into the ambience. Harmonicas, flutes, windchimes and even a ukulele appear at various points throughout
Sacred World. It may sound like a lot is going on, but in reality, all of these instruments are used precisely and never sound out of place or hastily tossed in just for the sake of doing it. The longest track, ‘Garden of Bliss’, is one of the greatest ambient tracks I've ever heard, mixing together all of the elements that I've mentioned into a 21-minute swansong of dreamlike proportions.
This was my first experience with Ecovillage, but I can assure you, it will not be my last. The way that these guys encapsulate the listener into their cloud of new age excellence is really something to behold.
Sacred World invokes feelings of a childlike innocence that brings the listener back to their youth. It's almost like Christmas morning as an 8 year old child all over again and the ecstatic feeling of just being young again. We all need that every now and again.
