Nina Kinert released RELIGIOUS last year; an album telling personal stories about growing up within the Pentecostal Church Community in Sweden. Her new LP CHORALS is a continuation of RELIGIOUS and is billed as “an experiment revolving around voice and death” recorded in close collaboration with Anton Sundell and Daniel Fagge Fagerström. It’s beautiful, and if you’re interested in hearing more about Nina’s experiences and the recording progress, be sure to check my interview with her from last year.
Maria W Horn’s new album Panoptikon is a suite of choral and electronic music originally produced for an installation in the disbanded Vita Duvan panopticon prison in Luleå, Sweden. According to the press materials, the circular prison structure of Vita Duvan, which enabled central monitoring, was meant to create a sense of omniscient surveillance. The panopticon made the inmates aware that they could be monitored at any time without having any way of checking if this was actually the case.
Panopitkon was originally presented as a multichannel sound and light installation where the imagined individual voices of the inmates were represented by loudspeakers placed in the various cells of the prison. Opening track Omnia citra mortem (everything until death) is a legal term that means prisoners who did not confess their crime could not be sentenced to death, but only to torture until a confession was forthcoming.
If this all sounds overwhelmingly bleak, then yes, there is undoubtedly a darkness and meaning tone to much of the music here. But it is also in parts quite overwhelmingly beautiful, and has already had a profound effect on me. Without doubt one of the most striking and accomplished albums of the year so far.
Taken from the Canadian ambient musician’s new album Hush Hush, COP26 is one of four pieces that comprise the LP, all of which were created by combining several 16th century choral arrangements that were then altered and spliced together using reel-to-reel machines, before being played live via an array of eight guitar amps. For fans of William Basinski, Stars of the Lid and generally being awestruck while thinking Big Thoughts.
Year Of Love is the second single to be released from Jenny Hval’s forthcoming album Classic Objects – her first studio album for 4AD. The song explores a “very troubling” experience she had of witnessing a marriage proposal at one of her performances. Plenty of artists, I’m sure, would have experienced this as a purely romantic act, and thought very little about it afterwards, but for Hval it elicited questions about how her art impacts others, and her own marriage; themes she explores and attempts to resolve over the course of the song.
Of course, you could just ignore all that and enjoy what is – lyrics aside – one of the most upbeat songs in her catalogue to date.
After an exhaustive (10 minute) search online there’s nothing I can tell you about Damiana I’m afraid, other than their latest release Vines was released on a clear vinyl limited to 100 copies which has now sold out. Too late suckers! This came out back in May but – 100 clear vinyl fanatics aside – seems to have flown largely under the radar, which is a shame as it’s really beautiful. Think Enya minus the hooks, with a little shake of Engima(!), combined with a dollop of mid 90s ambient trance – Chicane, or someone similar. Sounds fucking hideous right!? Well it’s not, I promise.
To my shame, I only recently found out that Stars of the Lid founder Adam Wiltzie made up one half of A Winged Victory For The Sullen – the other half being L.A. composer Dustin O’Halloran – which considering how much I love SOTL, I really should have been more aware of. Desires Are Already Memories is taken from their forthcoming album Invisible Cities, which is a paired-down version of the score to Leo Warner’s acclaimed theatre production. Like much of their work it sits somewhere between hope and despair, with choral voices and aching beautiful strings combining to tremendous effect.
Julianna Barwick's new album, Nepenthe, comes out August 20.
I’ve loved pretty much everything Julianna Barwick has done over the past decade, so waking up to a new album of hers today was a very welcome surprise. Healing Is A Miracle is everything I’d hoped it would be: immersive, soothing, emotional, fragile, beautiful. Oh, Memory is an early highlight, and further cements my yearning for live shows come back in some form really soon, as if I don’t have the opportunity to listen to this in a church or similarly reverential venue I’m going to be very disappointed.