Drone records can transport their listeners to many different universes and environments. They can pelt you with sand and wind, or encircle you with dense foliage, or replace your eyeballs with cogs of the universe itself.
Anduin's (Jonathan Lee) music sounds a lot like listening to a haunted village at night as you drift along with the current of a black river. Its rich patina of dislocated faux-rhythms and ultramarine shimmers is punctuated by wispy textures and the unique inclusion of harmonica (which he also plays in Souvenir's Young America). However, you won't find the harmonica on The Bending of Light, perhaps because this isn't a desert climate. There is much water here. This is a world where Anduin (named after a mythical river in J.R.R. Tolkien's Middle Earth) meets Jasper TX (Dag Rosenqvist), a household name in the ambient-drone circles who likes stretching melodies out for long periods of time while introducing all kinds of fuzzy weather, poignant guitar, and a lot of emotional architecture.
Word of this collaboration was as exciting as Tim Hecker and Aidan Baker getting together last year to make a somewhat similar album. While Fantasma-Parastasie buried and marred melodies with fog and storms of static, The Bending of Light is bright and unaffected. The drones and instrumentation are earnest, relaxed and clearly heard. There is a lot less stress here, as the dark roots of these two artists' sounds are dug up to let the sun shine upon them. Lovely as it is, the work sometimes feels a bit pedestrian for these two. Opener "A Beam of Light Bends Back Upon Itself" scintillates with soothing tides of synth and whir, sounding like the hood of a rusted, abandoned car being slowly warmed by the sun. "Everything Disappears in a Tunnel of Light" combines humidified organs, analogue hiss and a lonely Jasper guitar line lost at sea. The song titles are all quotes from Carl Sagan about the formation of a black hole. Just read them in sequence and you will be privy to Sagan's scientific poetry.
Tension appears within "Where a Star Once Was," as muffled rumblings and a nervous-sounding melody are overtaken by the many hissings of what I'd describe as "space water." "Producing Great Jets of Radiation" erupts slowly, burning itself to a loud and satisfying crisp. Both these tracks nicely break up the sunny dream that permeates the album and gives the overall story some needed texture. The standout "Like Footprints of an Invisible Man" is the most structured of all the songs, and makes for a smoking climax. It sounds like Anduin and Jasper TX synced up best here, as they deftly fuse their respective styles; as a red sun sets on a train slowly gliding through a mangrove swamp, guitar chords resolve and grow with life, sounding very confident and complete. At times the album meanders, so it is great to hear where this collaboration ultimately led to: a highly satisfying ending.
This album is gorgeous sounding. Simple and safe, nothing new to the genre is happening here. Anduin and Jasper TX sound relaxed, as if they composed these pieces from rocking chairs on a back porch. It's a summertime drone record! Nothing to prove - we just want to make beautiful music. In this, it is successful. Combining the talents of two of the best drone artists in the world really couldn't go horribly wrong, but I do think there is room for greatness. It all sounds nice on the surface, but other than that standout song, veils are not lifted to reveal deeper mysteries. Something eternal feels missing from the overall picture. It must be that pesky black hole theme. Black holes represent the absence of life and light. Or, I could be wrong, and this is the go-to album for back porch drone enthusiasts!
-Nayt Keane