|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
review by Bill Binkelman Keyboard player Michael Whalen, long absent from the ambient and spacemusic scene (while hard at work in other genres) returns in a big way with both the re-release of his classic Nightscenes album (reviewed elsewhere this issue) and this brand new recording which signals the artist's reemergence as a force to be reckoned with in ambient and electronic music. like rain through my hands easily qualifies as one of the best ambient releases of this year. This is sublime music; it will flow effortlessly out of your speakers or headphones, transporting you to sonic territories that are, by turns, billowing with subtle beauty, drifting with a delicate sense of melancholy, or lightly entrancing you with gentle rhythms. The artist combines echoed piano with his arsenal of synthesizers (some of which will be reminiscent of Nightscenes). What struck me immediately upon my first playing of like rain through my hands is how distinctive Whalen's music is; there is no one else in the ambient, new age, spacemusic or electronica genres who blends acoustic piano with the same array of ethereal, cosmic, yet melodic and accessible synths yielding such beautiful results. According to the artist (in a press release which accompanied the album), the title is meant to be metaphorical (alluding to Whalen's awareness of the passage of time in his life). However, I take the title somewhat literally, for in these seven pieces (which are enigmatically titled "part one," "part two," and so on) I also get strong musical impressions of rainscapes: the gentle sunshower of "part one" (twinkling background synths, light-hearted echoed piano, bell tone sequences, and softly sighing wisps of textures), the darker-tinted "part three" with its plucked harp echoed refrains, somber minimal piano, and minor key synth chorales and strings (evocative of gray skies and threatening severe weather, in the same way that Mychael Danna's superb recording skys worked the same feat), or the moody synth tones and washes and midtempo rhythms of "part four" which could be the soundtrack for driving in a steady downpour as light fades and each drop on the windshield reflects urban neon as you cruise the deserted streets. "Part six" drops in some funkiness and urban rhythms with evolving sampled hand percussion and drum kits beats amid the synths, piano, and effects, painting a portrait of people bustling amidst a cityscape's night life even while the skies open up, prompting much scurrying to reach destinations (even going as far as to remind me of cars racing past, imparted via the occasional whooshing sound in the background) Well, that's my interpretation and (of course) it may not be yours. I'm a "rain lover" after all. Regardless whether you paint the same mental images I do or not, like rain through my hands is a superb recording, brimming with musical textures, melodies, shadings, and elements that alternate from haunting to warmly inviting, from melancholic to engaging, from lush and inviting to stark and minimal, yet never alienating or discomfiting. While this is not as "spacy" as parts of Nightscenes, it's also more "human" even when it is sparse, such as on the more abstract sounding "part five" (which might remind you of the piano-led main title track from John Carpenter's The Fog, albeit much less intimidating and scary). like rain through my hands marks Michael Whalen's arrival back on a scene that sorely missed him (from my perspective, at least). Hearing his unique brand of musical magic once again is like, well, the same refreshing feeling I get after rain has cleansed the air and the earth, or the high I get from an impending thunderstorm looming on the horizon, or the lonely yet comforting warmth I feel on a drizzly gray afternoon as I sit and reflect. Surely one of the more evocative recordings of recent note, this album earns my highest recommendation as well as a shout out to Michael Whalen "Welcome Back!" |
|
