
1 ...But Now Things Were Different, With Birds Unable To Speak (3:04)
2 Feelings For Something Lost In Two Parts (Pt. 1) (1:46)
3 Leaves Abstract In A Village Plunged Into Mourning... (3:33)
4 Abandoned Houses Hiding In Flickering Shadows (3:04)
5 Lines Running Low Through 7th (...The Shame Of It All...) (1:26)
6 It Was A Cold Day In February And We Walked Across The Lake.... (1:34)
7 Departures (Burning Saints For Your Own Sins) (4:11)
8 Shut Your Eyes And You'll Find The Trees Turning Into Flames (2:52)
9 When We No Longer Are Around To Write Our Love On Each Others Eyelids (1:08)
10 Fading Lights And Distant Memories (2:00)
11 Feelings For Something Lost In Two Parts (Pt. 2) (1:45)
12 It Ends With A Version Of Keeping, Reminding About What Once Where... (2:22)
Un peu plus d’un an après leur très bon premier album (Alone In The Bright Lights Of A Shattered Life), les Suédois de Library Tapes reviennent déjà avec un nouveau long-format (qui ne dure toutefois qu’une petite demi-heure), toujours sur Resonant : Feelings For Something Lost.
On y retrouve assez logiquement ce qui faisait la structure du disque précédent : des accords ou notes de piano délicatement posés sur une texture électronique légèrement granuleuse, à base de vibrations, petits vrombissements et crépitements. Alors que la tendance néo-classique “piano solo” était à son apogée à l’époque du premier album, celle-ci est quelque peu retombée depuis ce qui permet à Library Tapes de ne plus apparaître comme une formation surfant sur une vague où la pose était parfois de rigueur (même si le noir et blanc stylisé de la pochette apparaît encore comme une queue de comète de cette mouvance). Par conséquent, comme il pouvait déjà le faire sur Alone In The Bright Lights Of A Shattered Life, le duo se fait surtout probant quand il sort du strict cadre de ce genre musical avec la densification de la texture décrite précédemment, la participation lointaine de la guitare saturée d’Erik Skodvin de Deaf Center (Departures (Burning Saints For Your Own Sins)) ou l’insertion d’une six-cordes pincée jouée par Colleen (Leaves Abstract In A Village Plunged Into Mourning).
EtherReal
Last year's gorgeous 'Alone In The Bright Lights Of A Shattered Life' album from Swedish duo Library Tapes landed here amongst a deluge of piano flecked gems. 2005 proved to be the year when the piano became trendy once more and artists flocked around the delicate ivories of their grandmother's old upright. The two Scandinavians avoided comparison to the glitchy homespun loveliness of the Boats, to Goldmund's stark and simple minimalism or to Max Richter's Nyman-esque epics thanks to their very personal take on the genre. Using 78rpm vinyl crackle and distorted shortwave radio static as primary instruments, the record took the process and the medium with as much importance as the compositions themselves creating an unmatched murky atmosphere reminiscent of your favourite flickering black-and-white films. 'Feelings for Something Lost' is the next logical step from this, playing like a lost soundtrack, only barely recoverable from its decomposing master tapes. The tracks are for the most part as short as film cues (the album actually only weighs in at a scant 28 minutes!) but for some reason it feels like this is the only way it could have been. If you remember the utterly magnificent 'Memories of Green' track from Vangelis's seminal Blade Runner soundtrack then you'll have a good idea of what David Wenngren and Per Jardsall are shooting at here. Faded photographs, distant memories, foggy northern European landscapes, rain on mud-caked windows... you know what I'm talking about. Interestingly the duo have roped in some rather important collaborators to help them conjure up an even more focused image - on 'Leaves Abstract in a Village Plunged into Mourning...' they take Colleen's delicate fingerpicking and manage to make it sound like an old Gramophone record and on 'Departures' they look to neighbouring Norway and use Deaf Center's Erik Skodvin's ample talents to help them piece together the album's darkest and most dread-filled vignette. I must say that since hearing Akira Rabelais' stunning 'Eisoptrophobia' I have been digging around for something which treats the humble piano in the same crumbling manner - finally I've found it. Wenngren and Jardsell have created a faded postcard from the monochrome landscapes of Sweden, left it in a dusty junk shop and then offered it to us with love. Highly recommended.
Boomkatsold out visit Resonanttry
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