exclusive play – Everest Magma

‘minus plus escapism’ the third album from Everest Magma, is a gloriously warm tapestry weaved with rustic idylls (the very Dungen like ‘B2’) spun from lost tongues and psych folk mirages all fused with a deep sense of its surroundings. The effect sometimes opaque at others, a world away from any pop pretence or studio manufacturing, the sounds naturally evolve, blossom and emerge free spirited without any pre-mapped thought as to their design or destination. This loose and carefree creative process, utilising only vocals, acoustic guitars and tapes, crafts a most disarming and strangely beguiling palette that flows and flitters to the very pulse of the elements. Comprised of ten suites, its simplicity is marked out by the absence of titles which themselves might, in any other process, unknowingly lay claim to an influence of a given cuts direction or dynamic. Instead, call it lazy, but from a personal perspective it lends itself perfectly to the amorphous spirit of the project, the tracks are simply separated by their side / track order A1, A2, A3 etc….. ‘minus pilot escapism’ has a feeling of being a earth prayer at times, a fact that concentrates itself within‘B5’ who in turn draws heavily from the heart of Africa, the rippling arpeggios and homely undulates of pining pastorals and looping chorals, endow it with a jubilantly mesmeric ethnicity that’s very much grounded in traditional harmonics and technique. Its something similarly expressed on ‘B4’ whereupon, pitched with a woody resonance, as were a ghost like Native rocky mountain spiritual, wooze and wander amid the grooves exacting a dream like dissolving, its something that draws loose kinship with the throat singing recitals of Soriah albeit here redeemed in lighter tonalities and not pinned with a resolve to have you fearfully scuttling beneath the bed in unquestionable terror. Continuing the ghost like seasoning, ‘B3’ provides for a dizzying kaleidoscopic campfire gathering shimmered with a Beach Boys loving Summer Hymns aspect as it sighs, snores and snoozes seductively with airless majesty. The deeply alluring rustic spray ramble happened within ‘A2’ with its delicately armed softly soaked kaleidoscopic cues is strangely absorbed of an XTC toning that ripples and roves with a lazy eyed lulling to tune its frequencies to a Soft Hearted Scientists setting, its woody woozy and backwards loops scoping a wonderfully Gaellic mystery which at its core reveal a connection with Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci, here found speaking strange arcane folk tongues with a youthful Tunng. We mentioned ‘A04’ at greater length here https://marklosingtoday.wordpress.com/2019/02/24/the-hollow-dolly-2/ – still, to these ears at least, is possessed of that rare mercurial that engaged the grooves of those first two iconic full lengths from Animal Collective and indeed, towards its end manifests magically to imagine a clearly wasted Brian Wilson sharing a bong with the critically cool Prana Crafter. The references to Animal Collective aren’t far from the grooves of ‘A3’ wherein after a brief interlude peppered in meditational bells, nature calls and the calming sound of a water wheel, a delightfully dinked hymnal rises to the fore doped in disorientating dialects. If I’m truthful, I’ve not the faintest as what’s happening on ‘A5’- are they pigs I can hear and crickets too, anyway once it rears into full focus, there’s something of the ‘Wicker Man’ attaching here to which both human and nature melt harmonically to waft a sleepy cocktail. Dare we neglect to mention ‘B1’, possibly the poppiest thing here and perhaps most striking for the way all the interlocking parts, each airless and without footing, manage to dance and swirl around each other creating a beguiling balance whose frail fragility whereupon each intrinsically relies on the other for optimum harmony.

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