1 The Wind Blows Summer from the Trees 49:00
A-Frame Media| A FRAME 017 (CD-R 49:00) *****
(Melodic ambient EM)
Listening to some Andy Codon is like to have an inner interview with our life. It's like embracing our most beautiful memories and healing our most profound wounds. More than two years after the troubling and magnificent I Remain, The Glimmer Room returns tortured the reminiscences mislaid in a life abandoned for those of others with an album inspired by Emily Dickinson's deeply moving poem; These are the Days when Birds Come Back. “The Wind Blows Summer from the Trees” is an intense elegiac work which consumes its 49 minutes throughout 9 windows where sensible field recordings and samplings as well as soft evanescent melodies bring out the old souvenirs of a sleepy memory. The rhythms are delicate and the melodies are poignant. A little as in I Remain they are transported in an emotional crescendo by caresses of synth which wave like tears on a wrinkled cheek, such as some invisible tears of a life mislaid in the meanders of its fate.
A spectral voice of an Elfic goddess narrates Emily Dickinson's poem through chilly autumn winds. Those who are familiar with the musical universe of the English poet synthesist recognize these hesitating arpeggios and their sensitive harmonies which go down from skies delicately moved by a synth as much sensitive as an old age teardrop. A synth of which the fine oscillations draw shivers in the soul with contemplative and plaintive melodies which cry in the shadows of ambient rhythms moved by impetus full of restraint. The rhythms of “The Wind Blows Summer from the Trees” are more presents that on I Remain. They go and come from their ephemeral rubbings, exception made by this foray of city and folkloric ambiences between part 7 and 8, feeding approaches and dramatic crescendo which ignore themselves. They accept to be lulled by strata as much wrapping as the arms of an absent but wished mother. They hone the palpitations and modulations in front of so much tenderness. Already, we topple over in the depths of our feelings when Part 1 embraces Part 2 and its fragile harmonies which are like some breaths of nostalgics dying. Everything is so delicate. Everything is so beautiful. Children's samplings playing with innocence open the 3rd part which pushes even farther the limits of melancholy with some breaths of oracles crying with an infinite abandonment. These synth layers of prismic veils and breaths of pains which increase their sadness like concerto for tortured souls feed the melancholic canvas of a work forged in knocks of sorrow in an infinite tenderness, such as the shout of redemption of a repentant lost soul. Through the samplings which depict the life in all the contrariety of its paradoxes, The Glimmer Room draws the immense sides of a work intensely intimist which sometimes caresses our solitude and sometimes feeds its nostalgic source. The synths spread an arsenal of layers and musical waves which move like shadows torturing our past with some somber breaths all so poignant from each other. The rhythms are abstracted and are modulated from layers of emotionalism which roll such as tears trying to go back up in their lachrymal nests. They appear like furtive shadows, set apart the knocks of metronomes in the 10th part, to merge in the harmonious multiplicity of layers to Elfic tones of a melancholic synth. Like a writer who describes brilliantly the slightest parts of an emotion, Andy Codon plays with nuances and ambiences pushing even farther the doors of perdition.
And so passes by the 49 minutes of “The Wind Blows Summer from the Trees”. Once again The Glimmer Room delivers an ambient opus without defect which follows a stunning ascent of emotional adrenalin. It's a real musical poem which comes with a magnificent notebook where the genesis of “The Wind Blows Summer from the Trees”, is write on a parchment, showing the romantic and medieval sides of Andy Codon. And if you look for another kind of ambient music, more a prose kind and more musical, it's high time that you discover the music of The Glimmer Room. I made it since his surprising Grey Mirrors in 2004 and I was never disappointed since.
Sylvain Lupari (January 20th, 2013)
Cet article est disponible en Français sur le site de Guts of Darkness, dont je suis chroniqueur sous le nom de Phaedream: http://www.gutsofdarkness.com/god/objet.php?objet=15820