If you didn’t catch “Ariel” over at Choco, that’s OK because the album it came from, Teal, contains a treasure trove of amb-dro splendor for you to wrap your fickle ears around. Touches of piano and traditional drone spray-mist abound, but there are several ways to the metaphoric waterfall (and at one point I think I also literally hear a waterfall), and Tom James Scott explores them all. From a day at the beach with sand licking at your toes to the sounds of a wooden widget being put together and taken apart again, if you can drift away to it, you’ll find it here. Hate to reference Idea Fire Company yet again but snatches of their Postcards show up in Scott’s mailbox, while delicate vellum votives of sound paint a rosy picture for the mind to melt to. No offense to the tape, as we love them here at Cerbs, but the vinyl version of Teal stands head and shoulders above, raining down on the listener with an immense cloak of light yet dense sound. Three-hundred copies, one of which gets you in the door; what you do from there is up to you.
More about: Tom James Scott
