the black meadow archive

One release that you might have missed during the recent Castles in Spsce release blitz is the rather superb ‘Volume 1’ collection by the Soulless Party with assistance from author Chris Lambert or perhaps that might rightly be the other way around. No pre prepped notes with this in order to confirm otherwise, but it seems this release runs in tangent with Mr Lambert’s current publication of the same name, the special edition version of which, accompanied by a double CD has annoyingly sold out too much teeth gnashing and crestfallen tearfulness here. Pressed on swirly, transparent vinyl, pressing number unknown though you can bet it’ll be of a limited nature, ‘Volume 1’ presses upon its grooves ten deeply entrancing sonic sign posts of the fabled black meadow landscape, its surroundings and of course, its residents. Eerily beautiful, while rich in hauntologist tropes, it stops at the dystopic /cold war gate, instead preferring to admit and embrace the sunlight rather than hide in the shadows, it’s something borne from the listeners first contact as the bruised and forlorn opener ‘walking in the black meadow’ awakes, stirs and permeates the listening space with its crushing ache and dinked hymnal caress within which a relived melancholic past troubles the graceful fluency. Like an old children’s lightshow, ‘legend of the white horse’ twinkles and flickers revealing a calming serene behind whose curtain a mournful neglect cries. As the title might well hint, the spell weaving ‘blackberry ghost’ is seductively chilled with a pastoral peppering that easily nods to the deceptive tones of soundtracks adorning the cult Brit Folk Horror cinematic classics of the 70’s not too menyion, skirts ever so carefully into the shadowy terrains more normally occupied by the Hare and the Moon. ‘a voice in the heather’ takes on the persona of a radiant spectral all pressed with a majestic swelling and a gravitas that sways between glooming and gloaming with an intoxicating supernatural eerie. The ethereal ‘he took her hand’ rounds out side one, sounding as though it’s the soundtrack to some passing through the veil, it emerges delicately drenched in all manner of choral cascades, a celestial visitation kissed with a most engaging heavenly jubilance. The life affirming spray of bird song greets the arrival of ‘song of the meadow bird’ which to a beautified floral arrangement sweetly charms with a most enchanting folk schooled idyllic stillness. Shadows lengthen with the onset of ‘the tickling policeman’, a clockworking mysterio part magical part macabre that’s sourced and ghost lit by a deathly haunting chamber waltz. Those of you finding yourselves lying awake at night wondering what sounds might emerge had the heartwood institute and concretism colluded. might do well to make ‘the audire’ your first point of listening while elsewhere the tenderly regal touch applied to ‘the village under the lake’ is sighed and seduced in hosts of disarmingly dreamy harp flotillas that whisper of a young Nyman. Which all said leaves ‘ghost planes’ to complete this most retiring and rewarding gathering with just a touch of sobering sombre chill, a deathly dronal as were, a farewell of fear to draw you back into the shadows. How fitting.

https://castlesinspace.bandcamp.com/