philippe petit and murcof

The description immense is in well trodden usage these days – I’ll hold up my hands and admit its frequently scattered around these here missives with mystifying regularity. However how else could you be expected to shoehorn succinctly what is happening between the grooves of ’first chapter’. due for release shortly via the much admired aagoo imprint in cahoots this occasion with rev laboratories, ’first chapter’ sees Philippe Petit team up with Fernando Corona – here assuming his Murcof guise – to craft something truly spellbinding. For those still reeling and much in awe of Petit’s recent ’extraordinary tales of a lemon girl’ trilogy wherein his application of classicist arrangements steeled to a beautified sonic choreography crystallised succinctly into a breathtaking aural spectacle prepare thyself for this mammoth three part suite finds both Murcof and Petit engaged in the same sublime and exquisitely detailed sound-scaping only this time with the emphasis overtly gripped in shadows, dread and mythology. Three extended suites feature here, Circe, Pegasus and the Kraken the protagonists centred in this immensely moving and oft deeply affecting score that’s both considered and considerable, Petit and Corona are found operating at the heights of their individual craft to summon up a pact that twists and spews forth a terraforming musical vision whose menu mutates from chilling bowed arrangements, arcane choral chants and disquieting chamber doom to afford its subject matter reverential gravitas. ‘the call of circe’ opens proceedings, a mammoth 20 minute descent in the abyss, chilled with an ice formed ceremonial aura steeled in an ever darkening countenance, the atmospherics petrified and cast in an impenetrable brooding fractures ever so divinely into washes of harmonic chants beneath them the macabre grip of disturbed keys chatter and tingle with menaced delight only to be arrested by the momentary passage of a drone drifting elegiac calm. Illustrated and bathed in lost sonic dialects the snoozing lullaby that greets the entrance of ’pegusus’ is etched and flavoured in mystery and solace, stricken atmospherics smother with a starkly eerie caution to the crying groan of an opining viola metering out its archaic spell charm though it’s the parting suite that had us scampering for the safety afforded by the rear of the settee for ’the summoning of the Kraken’ is measured in equal degrees graceful and grim, framed in the fracturing mania of echoing bowed instrumentations, cavernous disquiet and shimmering oceanic tremors, distressed at being called from slumber there’s an impending sub text awakening in the depths and what first appeared melodically soft as though a ritualistic prayer like incantation to sooth the ancient beast soon assumes a more threatening persona which at its final gasp is steeled in something ominously tragic as the melancholic wave trails snake out towards its momentous first act curtain close.

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