Everyone’s been telling me that I need to learn how to lucid dream. Personally, I’ve always thought elevated consciousness is totally blasé, but let’s face it — buying a Moleskine and working pen is pretty easy, and that’s like half the battle. It’s the soporific, muddied corners of my mind that I’m uncomfortable spending too much around. Sleep is a chore. It evades me when I most need it, and haunts me when I linger under the harsh presence of white LED lights. But I need it. I need it bad. I’m looking for a sonic backwoods-style escape, where slumber is not a requirement but something that’s part and parcel of the occasion. I need a luxurious continuum to curl up into. Can you take you me there? I ask, gently. Ever so gently. “I’ll say when I can.” Alright. That works for me.
This new release on New York’s Arcane label is deceptive in its presence. Featuring Yu Su, Scott Johnson Gailey, and Aiden Ayers, it consumes me as I traipse ahead in an eight-minute excursion from darkness into light. Distant, hand-played percussion sits atop a pillowy bed of Rhodes keyboards and organs, never straying too far from their generous lilt. Anonymous, brassy voices rise and fall like incense smoke. I fall deeper and deeper into this organic, delightful cornucopia. I’m reminded of the sage wisdom and twinkling melancholia of Mulatu Astatke’s “Tezeta.” Both these cuts are more articulate than I’ll ever be, despite the fact that I speak more words than they do. I’m humbled in Yu Su’s presence. Can this awaken me? Can this induce some much-needed self-reflexivity? Can this be in my dreams forever? “I’ll say when I can.” Alright. I can be patient. That works for me.
More about: Yu Su
