Sunshine speared through the treetops as the hunter was pacing his garden, trapping him behind golden bars. The visuals passed over the fruit and leaves likes reflections in a rain pond. Close enough to touch, yet a touch was enough to ruin them. Those lives. Those people. Unimaginably far, tucked away in some past. An anger possessed him, so he retreated briefly to the cool of his mansion to grab the scythe which stood against the wall in his bedroom, and stormed out again in the sweltering noon.
The scythe glimmered like a gnomon above his head, casting a long, straight shadow on the grass. Gripped firmly, he made a quick slice through crystal crop. With the rattling of bead curtains crops fell, and he cut through larger swathes, and then through flowers and saplings, and trees, and the scythe sliced through oak and wheat with equal ease. By the time he'd destroyed half his garden, he was crying and his hands were shaking, and so was forced to stop.
The ground was littered with jeweled rot: the chronological flashes in the fallen fruit and stomped leaves dimming.
supported by 17 fans who also own “The Clepsydra (Pt. 2)”
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