First of three releases from the cutely formed Little Red Rabbit imprint which should by rights be stretching, yawning and emerging from their hidey holes and onto these pages during the next few days – the other two incidentally being outings from Anna Kashfi entitled ‘Procurement‘ (wait till you hear their version of the Bad Seeds ‘the mercy seat’ – entrance fee deserving on its own) and Crazy Man Michael’s equally rarefied majesty groove locked within the awe struck ‘the green light’.

Anyhow David Little Red Rabbit sent these trio of little nuggets along from his Manchester based HQ with the Cambridge based quintet Fuzzy Lights debut full length immediately garnering our attention mainly for the fact at the way they interweave such turbulence and tenderness from such an inconceivable minimalist sound canvas, a canvas that in turns had us swiftly drawing mental comparisons to Her Name is Calla and Virgin Passages in terms of their ability to equally carve out a sense of measured stateliness and artery pumping tension in the lull of the quiet spaces to match those found in the moments of the soaring crests of crescendo peaks – non more is this best exemplified than on the ravaged snake charmed ‘capturing shadows‘ (in many ways the second part of a triptych sound-scaping the onset and eventual passing of a storm – this being ‘the storm‘) as it fractures, fragments and builds with unrelenting mass into a squalling torrential storm of free noise fury.

Opening to the sound of a crunching thunderclap, the reverential ’blackout II’ (the storm approaching) softly snakes into the eerily beautified territories more commonly recognised on Black Heart Processions first three full lengths, the ghostly aching pine of the Theremin forlornly weeping is sumptuously caressed and comforted by a creaking noir like shanty cradling instilled by the entwining tear stained pairing of the violin and harmonium as they eke out their enchanted ethereal lilt for your lump forming in the throat delight.

Swept with panoramic effect ‘a distant voice’ truly is an intense colossus of epic proportions, a dizzyingly brooding though beautifully demurring psych folk gem seemingly reared and cultured in the spirit of the Appalachians, pierced with the mysterious hollow of the deep south delta and lushly graced with the tranquil green patchwork folds of an English pastoral elegance.

The sounds timeless and nature bound are bleached with mood changing flurries that veer between the wild and untamed to the genteel almost snoozing (as on the softly lingering cascades of the faintly drawn rustic psyche folly of the Set Fire to Flames like ’safe place’). Equally at home bathing your listening experience with softly tendered psyche shimmering celestial tides as on ’eastern winds’ (the storm fading) with its mind mellowing hypnotic arabesque glazes or applying a monumental artistry to an already richly veined tapestry best viewed on perhaps the sets centrepiece the dust swirled embers of ’colour of the sun’ which unless our ears do deceive will come as something of a prayers answered event for those of you who ever paused and thought what GSYBE would sound like if ever they shimmied up to Neil Young. Its left to the departing ’(when we reached the) mountain top’ with its sweetly frail heart string tugging and lamenting spectral post rock echoes to fondly see you out when a rush of light headed glowing euphoria fills you to have you strangely feeling that you’ve experienced and passed through a deeply introspective examination unscathed and emotionally more resilient than you were before you arrived.

www.littleredrabbit.co.uk

Key tracks -

Colour of the sun
Eastern winds
Capturing shadows

MARK BARTON