There wasn't supposed to be such a long gap between part one and part two of the last quarter review, but I guess no one ever plans for a couple of spectacularly wretched weeks that bring everything to a screeching halt. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who felt this way, and we can just blame it all on Mercury in retrograde. That's a relief, as are the positive outcomes of most of what went down during that rough patch.
If there were one thing I had hoped to use the break for, it would have been to catch up on more December releases. Alas, I only got hooked on one - the various artists’ compilation Soon I'll Run Out of Air: A Colourful Storm 2024. A mix of 2024 singles released on A Colourful Storm, previews of upcoming releases, and new stuff from label regulars (such as Valentina Magaletti and Christoph de Babalon), on paper it may sound like nothing more than an annual label sampler. As it turns out, however, Soon I'll Run Out of Air is one of those compilations that works as a cohesive album, where artists who might otherwise have very different practices meet on common ground, making it really hard to pick out the highlights. In addition to shining a light on releases that may have flown under the radar, such as Unchained's Gabbeh and Scythe's Head X'Change, the compilation finds Maxine Funke following Félicia Atkinson on her spoken word home turf, a wonderfully lonely clarinet exploration of Troth's "Land Sighs," and Laila Sakini under the moniker Lucinda offering a rare beat-driven moment. Speaking of Troth, their collaborative album with Jon Collin, Devotion Objects, was another late fall highlight.
Comprising two twenty-minute compositions, Franciska og Emilie's self-titled collaboration feels like a lovingly haunted memory of a homey, rural landscape. Field recordings of nature meet the sounds of bell tolls and creaky wooden floors, and repetitive chords seem to echo through empty spaces. It brought to mind this amazing event in an old Danish castle that I attended a few years ago, as well as the musically different but similarly gentle Farväl Falkenberg by Erik Enocksson. Unobtrusive but rich in detail, this gorgeous record is yet another win for Gothenburg's Discreet Music. Where Franciska og Emilie ends with the world's saddest/loneliest sound, Warm Currency's equally intimate new LP for Horn of Plenty begins on a similar note. On Petals, the Australian duo delivers a decidedly autumnal release that balances humming spoken word and field recordings with more conventional folk elements. It's hard to explain, but there's a Current 93 meets Félicia Atkinson vibe to it that I didn't know I needed, but I'm 100% here for it.
It's been a strong season for collaborations, it seems, and here's hoping that the one between Dania and Ilyas Ahmed as DANIAILYAS isn't just a one-off. On Enough for Me to Remain, the duo makes such a natural pairing that it's hard not to think of them as a band. Ahmed's spacious, emotionally charged guitar picking feels perfectly at home surrounded by Dania's ethereal synths and otherworldly, only occasionally decipherable vocals. Enough for Me to Remain is a deeply hypnotic, gloomy but peaceful affair that easily joins the likes of Grouper in the pantheon of pre-bedtime listening. Berlin-based artists Andrea Belfi and Jules Reidy team up for the first time for a more dynamic but only slightly less brooding record. Richly textured and unpredictable, dessus oben alto up blends 12-string guitar, percussion, and synths to connect the dots between everything from folk to kraut and post-rock. (Also, is post-rock kind of back?)
Other releases I've thoroughly enjoyed in recent months include some jazz-influenced ambient and experimental music, such as Memotone's lush Fever of the World and Ulla and Perila's aptly titled collaboration Jazz Plates. Lebanese artist Yara Asmar's latest, a collection of "eulogies for accordion, metallophone, and electronics," is all achingly melancholy melodies and rich, expansive drones that seem to carry the weight of the world.