Much like it becomes hard to recall the exact differences between one slow weekend stretch and another syrenen lukker lysets øjne med hele sin vægt is a place of held-breath and idle hours. It’s difficult to differentiate the A and B sides of this cassette, as each passage of gentle ambiance becomes enmeshed in a pillow of quite melancholy. Looping, aimless guitar-strumming moves cyclically through a ten minute side, content to go no further than where it started. This is the kind of music that could preternaturally spring into being, generated only by a lazy summer afternoon spent staring into space. Time dilates and stretches until minutes become indistinguishable from hours, and it’s no longer clear how long the coffee has been undrinkably lukewarm or when the sun began to dip behind the trees. The woefully short cassette causes trance-states as the slow, lo-fi guitar wedges itself between the listener and their train of thought, derailing the whole process of comprehension. The world becomes sunlight, the hum of guitar stings and the slow rhythm of breathing as a day is well-spent on just existing.
More about: øjeRum
