M. Geddes Gengras | I Am The Last of That Green and Warm-Hued World
Hausu Mountain (CD/CS/DL)
From its title you get this feeling that we may be situated on a deserted island in some far off pocket on the globe, as greed and pollution erode everything around us. However, as delivered by the capable hands and mind of LA-based M. Geddes Gengras via I Am The Last of That Green and Warm-Hued World, what we get is most definitely coming from an alternate reality.
At over 75 minutes in length over five tracks, the opener Zoltan is like a fresh, yet brisk breeze blowing all around us with an underlying drone, creating a sparse, foggy scape. If you’ve ever encountered large marine life this may start taking shape, if not, this is saturated in evocative ambient textures. Soft and psychedelic, these glacé, loose rhythms wriggle into the subconscious. This is music for letting go.
As The Pump at the Way Station begins, while I’m already finding it harder to reach the keyboard due to Gengras’ ability to alter spatial perception without any excess, the listener will be enveloped with a warm coating of breathy drones, of ‘just-so’ wavy synths and a sleep-inducing climate. People, this is some of the deepest chill you will find anywhere on the horizon. After Eno and Froese, this is a study of the most elusive neural oscillation. The fact that he chose to make this an incredibly long-player was a strong choice, as once this gets into your body you may find yourself floating on the final green pixel.
As this moves forward there are some additional abstract warblings, fleeting electronica, bubbly distortions, soaring (yet restricted) synths, and unexpected effects. Passage Under the Mountains encompasses some of that with a slightly different tact. The low rumblings and isolated tonalities leave way for microsound and mystery. It’s a somewhat erratic tribal setting, building up in volume and form, growing and sustaining through nearly the end when a ghostly drone and thump outweigh the surge.
On the final piece, The Drawing, between the watery effects and broadline synth drone there’s this overall feeling of ephemeral effervescence that hovers. The chords shift subliminally throughout, done so smoothly you barely notice. This reminds me of something that I cannot put my finger on, perhaps that’s the point of contention. If you wish to immerse yourself in a remote world for over an hour, might I highly recommend I Am The Last of That Green and Warm-Hued World.