Inwards

Where we talk about exploring new horizons. Planning chapters in life as we do for a trip. Leaving familiar places (Skyline, 1) and embracing sparkles of light breaking through the darkness in unexpected places (Bassins, 2). The road might seem steep, but every path is (Cobblepath, 3).

This first part is close to what I published before: mostly tonal music with very few "deconstruction". The second part documents the journey itself. But as the movement turns -radically- inward, a new vocabulary appears. It might be hard to grasp, as it is deeply personal. It may feel intimidating, with raw emotions surfacing among broken melodic lines.

The emergence of this kind of soundscape in my work may surprise (Irruption, 4), yet it is profoundly personal and marks an important step in my aesthetic exploration.

The next two tracks (Non-Funk, 5 and Curtains, 6) are following the rhythm of a rapid walk and adress the use of rhythmic clichés in a non-idiomatic scheme.

The following tracks (Raindrops, 7 and Dew, 8) depict rain interrupting the walk. As water flows and merges into the landscape, it reveals other colors and nuances. Metaphorically, raindrops represents doubts, which allow (or force) us to redefine the journey, to pause, and to breath.

Then comes the awaited arrival, the destination. It reveals itself as a suddenly vast perspective after crawling out of narrow passageways. Inside lies the kingdom of Raw Feelings (9) which take time to interpret. At this stage, they appear as chords (fragmented) and melodies (or hints thereof), but as we move further and deeper, they transform into clouds of sounds, clusters of noise.

Indeed, time is an essential dimension of travel, as it is for understanding others and oneself. The final track (Slices of glass, 10) explores this idea: sparse notes seem meaningless at first, but over time, they are reconstructed, assembled into a meaningful sentence, constellations of sparkles and slices of impressions.

Yet time isn't something we can control.

Nous sommes des lignes mélodiques

This album is the result of two ideas joining together, a few months apart.

The first, at the dawn of autumn: that our memories merely 'exist' and that we are the ones making them speak, for they say nothing on their own. Knowing this, their mere presence should not lead us to regret or sadness. We must contemplate them for what they are: snapshots of the past, seen through our today's eyes.

The second, at the dawn of winter: that we are melodic lines. Each line is perfect. But each encounter with another line, in the street, in friendship, at any time, is an event whose outcome escapes us, surpasses us, and can lead to a harmony that is more or less rich, more or less dissonant.

And that is why memories do say nothing: they are only isolated notes, dots, whereas only the line matters.