Grey East (Hooker Vision, 2011) For: Nova Scotian Arms, Evan Caminiti, Black Swan Byline: My journey into the abyss of the Hooker Vision box...
Grey East(Hooker Vision, 2011)
For: Nova Scotian Arms, Evan Caminiti, Black Swan
Byline: My journey into the abyss of the Hooker Vision box continues...
Never did see that M. Night Shyamalan flick "The Village." I think it's about monsters or something. There's nothing here on Grey East quite so grotesque, but like a *good* (come on... there are least a couple) Shyamalan movie, Ross Gentry, man behind the music known as Villages, sets an appropriately spooky, ominous tone with his brand of contemplative drone, painting creepy dreams with dank tones, highlighted by a sense of otherworldliness through use of effected vocals. And also like a (*good*) Shyamalan movie, patience, patience, patience is the word with this one. And suspense. Whether guitar is busy outlining a piece's melodic skeleton on one track or it's static begetting static, begetting drone, begetting harmony, and on and on for another... these pieces all begin subtly in the distance and creep on you with an impending purpose that may or may not be sinister at heart. Alright, even if "cinematic" would be a good descriptor here... I seriously hate to compare something this great with something as hit-or-miss as a mediocre filmmaker. So maybe let's just forget about this intro and focus on what Gentry is doing here instead, hm? I'll just go rent "the Sixth Sense," watch it alone tonight at home, and we'll call it good and shall never speak of Shyamalan on this blog ever again.
Throughout Grey East, Gentry seamlessly traverses distinct movements that bleed into one another, homogenizing the sides of this tape into wonderfully realized statements. Ideas are writ large in ambiguous sweeps of expanding/contracting tones that layer and gently ebb in waves of volume across great lengths of time. These compositions have very clear ends to their hypnotic means which they glide towards at slow, graceful paces, each work a brooding character that unfolds with personalities you might not expect. One of the sides has a piece open with what feels like very chilly, harsh winds of noise only to bloom into a beautiful fanfare-esque moment of what feels like an oppositely warm and comfy chorus of horns in the vein of Philip Jeck or Kyle Bobby Dunn. Another track shows a different side to Villages altogether with a tragic, Evan Caminiti-esque guitar line that lags along in a scorched-Earth swelter. So the amount of distinct material here, the various styles and moods Villages puts forth on this tape is staggering. But more staggering still is how focused and compact the whole remains. Nothing is out of place or overdrawn, all the tracks (however different from one another) working to summon a common fog that hovers ominously (if also comfortingly) over Villages. Grey East is a haunting, ghostly set of material that soothes and relaxes—a fireplace of flickering warmth juxtaposed with an icy storm just outside the cabin's walls.
Without question, this is some of the finest work in the field out there in a year rife with seriously heavy-hitters—see Black Swan, KBD, et. al. I've been loving these Hooker Vision tapes more than life itself (and been anything but shy about saying so), and this one may be best of the batch. So if you're sick of reading about them... I'm not sure what to tell you. I gotta write about what hits me, and Villages hits pretty hard right now, especially now in the fall as the temperatures cool and the nights grow longer. It just fits.
Crawf
Hooker Vision
Villages on Soundcloud
VILLAGES- Mourninga (excerpt) by Hooker Vision
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