Strange new blends of early electronics and free improv are emerging these years, in a musical...
I can be extremely picky when it comes to ambient music. There needs to be a perfect balance between melody, noisiness and duration. And, most importantly, bedtime compatibility. The only other person I know that's even pickier than I am is my current boyfriend and I have to tell you, finding the one drone/ambient album that he likes has always been a challenge.
What is most appealing about this release is probably its uplifting quality in the use of synths without falling into the typical angelic sound usually associated with new age healing music. It is somewhat cold, but in a way the tip of your nose is cold on a sunny day after the first snow yet you feel all warm bundled up in your Wookie winter coat.
I am tempted to say the three tracks feel like rolling waves. Not the ocean kind of waves, but rather a pulsating energy field that washes over you. It's the kind of feeling you get when you're stargazing at the beach, getting lost in the summer sky and slowly sinking deeper into the sand. Sometimes you might think you see a falling star in the corner of your eye, just for a quick second. Or maybe it was just an airplane. Or it passed by before you could really notice it and claim your wish.
This is what ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)* really reminds me of - those magical nights in the Danube Delta when you feel like the sky is this compact block of stars that never really moves and somehow there are tiny micro events happening around you. A slight gush of wind, a spark from the nearby fire, the passing of a hungry hedgehog - little variations that would disrupt the perfect white noise of the sea. All set in a suspended parallel universe, floating in a white void. Because the modulations in the three tracks are quite minimal.
It's as if Terekke had stumbled upon this magical frequency and all he wanted to do is to display it from every single angle, adding subtle textures or moving things around a bit, but trying to preserve this delicate glowing soap bubble for as long as possible. It's not like an Eliane Radigue piece where things sound the same but kind of evolve with time and by the end of an hour-long piece you're having this unexpected feeling of relief after a very constant micro build-up. Lessons From A Spiritual Dimension is a very quick drug. The trance-like state kicks in within the first few seconds and keeps you suspended in this sort of ethereal bliss for the next 30-odd minutes. The descent is quite sudden. It's probably more of a vision than a trip.
While the title on the cover sounds incredibly appropriate (you would think he just went through a portal and made these tracks upon return), I prefer the Emoji. Along with generic file name titles, it has that sort of universal quality that strips away all the mystical connotations in order let the music do what it does best - make your entire body smile.