Cerca:shower curtain

Strawberries ripen in the spring. Or so they used to, in a more reliable world, one that seems to be rapidly receding in our collective rearview mirror. Presently, “spring” is a troubled concept — fraught with anxiety. Our seasons, if they are seasons at all, are paradoxical. Crops fail, or they ripen prematurely, all at once, and into a burst of rot. Impossibly, somehow, the supermarket shelves stay stocked (mostly, for now at least), and there are buckets of strawberries on every corner. But, of course, their nature is suspect. And they don’t taste like they used to. Or maybe that’s just ruinous nostalgia. But somewhere along the way we certainly lost something. Everybody knows.

Strawberry Season (Leaving Records, November 9 2022) responds tenderly to this sorry state of affairs, not with false comfort — nor escapism. Rather, the album conveys, often wordlessly, that there remains an abundance of sweetness amidst our increasing unease. While much of twentieth century American popular and folk music may have dwelt on the beauty and plenitude of the prairie, More Eaze applies a similar Romantic focus to the small bursts of fecundity that now hide in plain sight. Blending found sound, generative music, a knack for elegant, classically-informed melodic arrangement, and a sort of Liz-Fraser-by-way-of-hyperpop approach to vocals, Strawberry Season offers unique solace — providing an occasion for the kind of deep listening that our overstimulated and undernourished spirits require if there is to be any hope at all (and of course there must be hope).

More Eaze (serving as composer, songwriter, multi-instrumentalist, producer, and sound artist) guides us incrementally to this locus of attentiveness. Strawberry Season begins with the softly sweeping gentle pets. Early intimations of Velvet Underground give way, indeed, to a string arrangement that John Cale might have saved for Paris 1919. The second track, Suped, features a kaleidoscopic swirl of grocery checkout scanners that eventually coalesce and release with the subtle strumming of a harp. On known, in the midst of a nearly elegiac outflow of feeling, a shower starts to run. Someone steps inside, pulling the curtain back, sending the plastic rings clattering. Moments later, the unmistakable sound of the showerer blowing their nose — an inclusion that is at once light-hearted and jarringly, movingly intimate.

Strawberry Season’s second to last song, low resolution at santikos, serves as a sustained meditation on all that has come before it. Building slowly throughout its nine minutes, teetering, at times, on the edge of danceability, it dissipates suddenly, and Strawberry Season concludes with the rustling of clothes, snippets of distant conversation, creaking floorboards, an exhale and a sniff. There is a feeling of having arrived, of temporary reprieve in the face of uncertainty. A hint of a season yet to come, or one that is perhaps only now accessible in dreams.

Volker.live ’s debut and final release
“My Love Will Set You Free” Final release? We see the question mark popping up over your head. Well yes, these four tracks are a time capsule, a historic cache which takes you back to one hot summer of 2019. When this care-free boy band formed and made it their goal to climb up the world’s stages to play an all-hardware live set & have f.u.n. while doing so. This endeavor went swimmingly. Festival gigs were pocketed and crowds intrigued. The stand-out track of their gigs was always “My Love Will Set You Free”, an acid-house stomper with uplifting, yet melancholic vocals from their friend ÆN.
Friends and neighbors were quick to re-interpret the song and the idea of a record took shape.
Lehult’s Lucky Charmz propels the listener into the void by upping the acidity. Closing in on a playtime of 10 minutes, we’re readily giving up our sense for time and space. Whirring drum hits meet feedbacking tape delay while riding the rock solid bass line.
Erobique liked the song so much, he quickly drew up two versions of his own. His “Disko Mix” oozes that saccharine, danceable magic mélange of days past. Warm keys, hand claps, and Aen’s intimate voice are stirred into an exquisite cocktail. You know that Carsten Meyer would never forget the umbrella on top. He’ll keep the cherry though.
The “Black Velvet Mix” closes the curtains for a slow dance. This is personal, it’s just between you and the song. Sub rosa.
In the meantime, Volker.live decided to follow separate paths of their adventure, but everyone agreed to release these songs into the world. May they serve as a reminder of what can be created out of care-free energy that’s driven by a deep connection to music. Please check out their other musical undertakings as Echoel and Goodmemory.live .