From someone whose respect I admit to still needing, Andy G. From Inkeys Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/inkeys
PAUL NAGLE – Accidental Hermit Album
There will be those of you who've been eagerly following the musical worlds of Paul Nagle, and his alter ego, Wiley Peyote, over the last couple of years or more.......and those of you who've not......the latter, probably still thinking of the magical releases that he released in ye olde UK Electronica days. Either way, the one thing you can say about Paul and his electronic music universes, is that the one word you can't level at him is “predictable”......”prolific”, for sure.....even “progressive” (no, not progressive in the sense you're thinking, o Genesis fan of little brain).....I mean, genuinely progressive – and this is no exception.
Bearing a few resemblances to recent things I've heard by the likes of Leicester's “Endgame” and similar, as well as seriously early T Dream/Vuh, etc, this is a three part, 71 minute journey into uncharted reaches of the electronic music galaxy – places you never knew existed. The result is.......astonishing.......
“Part 1”, at over 25 minutes in length, spends its first half in eerily, unnervingly cosmic mode, as various layers, textures, extended chords, other worldly sonic explorations, undercurrents of cosmic bliss and floating piano chords, all coalesce to produce an unending blackness with a light at its farthest reach, giving you the idea that is, indeed, a purpose for the existence of the music that's currently immersing you. Just about halfway, there's this huge drone that spirals into being, climbs into the black hole and abruptly disappears, only to be repalced on the other side by a mighty electro-percussive sounding rhythm that circles round and round and round and round, gradually adding shifting textures, more rhythms, now booming out at the bass end, drifts of droning electronics, almost feedback-laced top textures, then morphing into a kind of sequencer-like domination that sounds like Edgar Froese's “Aqua” album in an alternative dimension, and this section rattles on for several minutes, to great effect, before, it too, fades, and then it's back to the eerily dark side of the gloom, only then for this violin to appear out of nowhere, set to a horizon of cosmic drift and blissful rivers of synth wonderment, and all of a sudden you're on a cliff under sunny skies, looking wistfully out to the unending sea that is before you, looking up to the unending sky that's above you, alone and far from home, but somehow calm and comfortable in your surroundings – and so, it ends.
“Part 2 – just short of 22 minutes – kinda clanks into life before the clank subsides, and this multi-layered set of electronic drones, melodic meanderings, spine-tingling drones, unnerving drifts and early T Dream choral synth magic (“Albert Hall”, anyone?”), pours forth in a kind of “early Popol Vuh in a black hole” manner, shifting from side to side, drifting in and out, before the musical canvas subsides, a gently bouncing rhythm appears, the main drone continues, the sound of a tabla-like percussive element appears well in the distance and now a top layer of serene cosmic synth flow, occupies the space all around the core rhythmic element, and the way it charts a territory through both musical light and darkness at the same time, is something that has a jaw-dropping context to it, the likes of which I've truly not heard anyone manage, as it's usually one or the other. As to continues, neither side wins, both dominate and the effect is quite breathtaking. Around the 8 minute mark, it all fades, a kind of “backwards sounding” electronic layer appears, only for ringing, piano notes to act as the polar opposite, again this yin and yang of musical exploration, coming into play. Then a booming bass layer appears, disappears, and a positive forest of synth insects comes out at night, before something calms it all down as a shadowy figure moves through the trees, flute-like synth magic emanating from the fibre of his very being as all life stands in awe of the magnificent sounding choral synth layer that moves mysteriously through the undergrowth. A few minutes later, the forest gives way to an expansive desert expanse as tinkling rhythms appear, the pace accelerates, more deliberate rhythms well up, the gorgeous synths surrounds occupy a space all around you, as you now journey under an intensely hot sun towards into what seems like an infinite horizon, as rhythms disappear and all that remains are many magical minutes of cosmic synth bliss to take you on that trip, the end point gradually moving ever more distant.
“Part 3” - 24+ minutes – starts with the viloin from before – or is it viola? - as piano notes ripple on its surface, deep synth density rumbles down below, and a joyous sea of serenity gives you the feeling of looking back, recalling the days gone by where you'd walk through a vast building of corridors, almost church-like, with music emanating from every room as you passed by. Slowly this flows, almost like T Dream's “Zeit” given a more optimistic treatment in an altogether different universe, but one that slowly changes into a really dark place, as the viola, without changing a key, now sounds decidedly sad, a complete contrast to how it began, all thanks to the slow-burning electronic conflagration that's appearing to take over like some slo-motion forest fire, consuming all in its path, and then dominates the central musical framework, raging in an amorphous molten mass of cosmic electronics. Emerging from the wreckage, comes a stuttering rhythm, stumbling slowly over itself to get out alive, which it manages to achieve, only to mutate into something altogether more disarming, as drones, electronic textures, nerve-jangling synths and roaring electronic layers, all change the whole outlook of the track once more, only, mysteriously, to calm down rather than explode, rising up to fill the void – only to be abruptly silenced by this out-of-focus clanking synth rhythm that comes out of nowhere, again surrounded by all manner of electronic fx, textures, drones and layers, subsiding just short of 18 minutes in, and leaving behind, the blissful sounds of nature and equally cosmic synths, with the final 6+ minutes, building choral synth layer on choral synth layer, to create this anthemic sea of cosmic magic that rises up majestically and sees the track out on yet another journey into the far reaches of your mind.
As you might have gathered – a complete triumph and proof, if needed, that, 40 years on, Paul Nagle is still creating electronic music that will simply blow you away, as innovative as it is accessible, as creative as it is hypnotic.
Monday started well - got the in-progress artwork for the novel and it's great, Ben's really getting there. I realise these artistic types are never quick but it's going to be worth it, I can see now. Just the layout and text to do, as far as I can tell. I should decide whether to include an author photo in the place Amazon leave free. Maybe that polaroid one Tim did.
Great review in Electronic Sound. I sent them a code for my new one but no reply as yet. I guess it was a bit foolish of me to hope.
Still tantalisingly at the last stage with book cover. Have finally admitted defeat re: getting the text done. For some reason Ben looked at my red dino head idea and used the same icky yellow colour and style of text for his own. No idea why as the pale yellow title vanished against the watery white and grey of the background. Fortunately Tim offered to ride to the rescue and sort it.
Two chances to see a kingfisher this week - today on the park with John and tomorrow near Tim's. Didn't turn on studio yesterday - walked into Leyland instead. Running out of places to walk to round here, going to have to go further afield or go crazy. Crazier.
Wednesday, lovely sunshine. Broadband was off yesterday, water's off today, told you the apocalypse was near. No kingfisher today but at least saw the one on Moor Park. Lounged in the sun in the afternoon, idly but happily.
