With every new cassette released by Inner Islands, the world gets a little more peace. It feels absolutely right (though a bit surreal) that peaceful music recorded on tape and released in a small edition can make some impact on the surroundings. Even if no one listens to it, simply the fact of its existence. Maybe it's something in my mind, spoiled with esoteric teachings and drone music, yet it feels true. This album is a seed waiting for the right time. It contains everything needed to become a tree, a huge interconnectedness of colors, juices, movements, powers, stillness, shade, fruits... Between water, earth, and sky, nurtured and strengthened by wind - even until it's death in someone's fireplace, turning into smoke and ash. It will pass along this path once again when you hit play button next time. It's so miraculous if you think about it, music existing in a timeless dimension, though its nature is the time itself. Feels like everytime tape spins unfolding these vibrations to the air, it creates itself from the simple but elegant formula. Starting to sound familiar after a while, yet not exactly same. Maybe I'm going esoteric again but with music like "scenes of scapes", a strong feeling of renewal appears. Like autumn rain washes away summer's dust, the music here releases unnoticeable incense that cleanses the air and body with every single breath. Volatile music with a deep harmony hidden inside.
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After the long sleep comes awakening. The same state of mind, but a different reality – or vice versa? Deepest impressions are like self-containing virtual realities inside our mind – dreams or memories, both can be vivid and alive once you put a bit of energy into them. Every time we remember something it is a new experience and each time our mind adds new details to the picture and, at some point, it's not recognizable – what's was real and what's not... We all know it perfectly, but barely notice such things, used to the way it is. Same goes for music – our memory often holds not the actual sounds we heard and not those sensations in detail, but something quite subtle – we can call an overall mood, yet it's something more elusive than we think. Repetitive sounds and drones are meant to play with this phenomenon, changing the ground behind the given listening habit, putting us into a state of constant levitation. It's melody but it's not, you hear repeating loops, but they're different every time. This tape isn't that psychedelic as it may appear from the thoughts above, but its caries one very prominent quality of minimalist music – the ability to bring much more music than sounds from which it's made of. As well, as memories or dreams. Combined, they produce miracles.
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Muzan Editions is another place of admiration for any cassette enthusiast and with H. Takahashi it becomes even more comfortable. Loops and blips, gentle progressions of sound which envelop your head into a high-sensitive web of vibrations. Despite the track names like "Despair" or "Loser", it sounds incredibly chill and cozy, as if you are riding a driverless car which takes you to the pastoral countryside. Let it exist only inside a tiny snowball standing on the mantel. Little connotations of tiny sounds hidden behind the simply pulsating rhythm are like snowflakes on the rearview mirror. You look back and you see no road - it vanishes behind the wheels, turning into a white canvas. This music leaves no traces but same elusive sensations as the sun through the leaves of the trees. Maybe it's something highly subjective, but this elusiveness haunts every time – no need to catch it, no meaning intended. It simply exists for a moment and then it's gone. It's like trying to remember a dream when it slips away. Let it go, you'll have another one again.
