I never thought it would happen in a million years. It’s like falling in love again after years of stagnant affairs, or having a really good sandwich after an eternity of cheap footlongs. It’s like discovering a life that was waiting for you all along. These extreme feelings bubble to the surface because I’m finally beginning to appreciate music with no clear entry point.
It’s been quite a journey. I’m not ready to worship at the feet of the pillars of ahhhhhmbient music just yet, but I am ready to evaluate the work of its disciples. Ethan Rose is certainly a key heir to Brian Eno’s throne, droning, dipping below the surface and letting space and mood dictate where his compositions roam. My only qualm is that I’m having trouble discerning where this sort of album will fit into my life.
Ceiling Songs is so subtle, so nuanced-yet-bare, so difficult to pinpoint. Perhaps that’s the next leg of my journey then: taking the step from appreciation to application. Although I’m admittedly behind the curve on this one, if you love taking long trips through sensual curls of sound, delicate blips, carefully placed notes and tinkling wind chimes, Ceiling Songs will be a fantastic addition to your library of Kranky records.