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review by Bill Binkelman Anchored by the ethereal and haunting (frequently wordless) vocals of Mary Whitaker, the ambient soundsculpting trio Formaria has recorded an album of shifting sonic sand dunes of music. Besides Whitaker's sublime voice, 8 Shades of Sound features the guitars (both recognizable as well as highly processed) of Pete Kelly (who also records on this label as Igneous Flame) and the assorted samples of Nick Kemp. The resulting nine pieces (ranging between three and eight minutes in length) weave an intoxicating spell that will appeal to listeners who like their ambient music suffused with mystery and a subtle sense of shadow, but without any of the usual characteristics of dark/noir-ish ambient music. Instead, owing mostly to Whitaker's vocals (which alternate between being almost whispy in nature to more attention-grabbing in front of the other musical elements), the compositions here work their magic in understated and delicate fashion, creeping slowly into your subconscious at the periphery, seeping in through the cracks of your awareness. As such, 8 Shades of Sound is "pure" ambient music at its least cluttered -- simple, non-oppressive, and yet strangely insistent. Because the work of Whitaker, Kelly and Kemp is so subtle, concrete descriptions of the music are somewhat superfluous. How does one describe a cirrus cloud or smoke wafting up from incense? Kelly's guitars could be compared to Jeff Pearce at his most ambient (although occasionally a series of strummed or plucked notes is discerned, pealing in the background or even straying onto center stage, e.g. on "Caspian Sea"). Kelly also uses his guitar to craft broad swaths of ambience the same way Jon Durant does, although much quieter. Kemp's samples serve as additional textures, fleshing out the guitar and vocals, sometimes with synthesizer-like sonics, and other times serving as a floating cushion of sparse minimalism over which the other two hover. Whitaker's vocals alternate between Sara Ayers' spacy held notes and a more distinct and recognizable "real" singing (almost chanting at times) with a voice that may resemble Sarah MacLachlan or Tori Amos (although without the former's matter-of-factness or the latter's histrionics). Singling out tracks for special mention, while it may prove of value to the reader, defeats the vision behind 8 Shades of Sound. While there is diversity inherent in the tracks (from the gentle spiritual beauty of the opening "Easter Morning," to the sparkling guitar, whooshing and rumbling textures, and juxtaposed lower and upper register vocals of "Jewel," to the "wall of sound" approach of the amorphous blending of all the musical elements on "Anode") the album plays so well as a whole that I hesitate to say "This or that song is 'better' than the others." Immersing oneself into this CD will enable a person to experience both a uniquely cohesive artistic expression and yet offer enough variety to keep jaded listeners interested, if not enthralled. I highly recommend this album to any but the most vocal-phobic ambient music fan. |
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