The seed took root and a stalk poked its head, which then grew into a sapling that branched out when spring came, peaches of gold growing along the length of the branches, peaches glimmering like baubles, and in each fruit there gleamed another garden of crystal and another hunter of time tending to that garden, and within each that hunter buried another hard-won seed in mulch, and patted his earth, caressed his plants. The hunter's actions slightly different in every microcosm, multiplying, diversifying as more peaches grew, weighing down the boughs.
And every morning the hunter came out of his mansion to look at his tree, and saw himself entrapped a thousandfold in the orbs, saw himself retracing his own steps, walking the same roads, except the changes of each iteration cascaded into bigger differences until one day he saw his feet beginning to stray toward untrodden paths, away from the mountain, away from his own garden, some of the peaches showing nothing but gold dust, an empty, unkempt garden in alternative mythopoeses where the world's topography was not round, and then the hunter laughed, and broke down crying before his peach tree, because he'd seen himself free.
Yog-Sothoth. The thought of something lurking beyond time and space, seeing and knowing everything and all in existence at any given time, is deeply unsettling and yet fascinating. This outermost, outerworldly feeling is being transported in a good way. Part 1 is good, but Part 2 indeed sounds like I would imagine The Lurker at the Threshold to feel, if he felt anything. An outerworldly, cosmic and desolate piece of dark ambient. David Fischer
Hindustani music and glitchy ambient co-mingle on the San Francisco-based, New Delhi-raised composer’s lush new album. Bandcamp New & Notable Sep 4, 2019