No Moon At All, What A Night
TBR: 9th October
The Parisian moving and abstract electronic music producer Shcaa is back with another master-work. The originator of modern electronic blues and known for making use of guitar, electronic music production, plus expert layering in the studio, Shcaa reveals deep and sonically beautiful transcripts of the internal world. Previously featured in catalogues such as R&S, Grow, Archipel, and Sharingtones, Apollo have done well to add their name to this exclusive list.
It begins with Faroh's Birds. Whistling chimes open the music as twin vocals delicately scale the framework of sound. Ambient percussion tampers the groove in driplets of impetus. A wholesome guitar begins wandering in artistic frills across pentatonic scales while the density of the backdrop increases. The twin vocals open the next track with an immediate closeness as drums fritter away on a slow burn. Jangling metal-work and wooden chatting taps decanter like soft red wine. Guitar and brass form a dual flame that rises gently and envelopes the ember of rhythmic flow. Auguries transcends into a jazzical pillar that rises over sunny dreamscapes.
Moralia opens with a scattering of sound that froths from a humming of potential. Wandering bass forms a neat line of clarity then other instruments flop into place in lazy sections. Drum, piano, odd electronic sheering noises, taps, clicks, and flicks, they all begin dancing to the driving pulse of bass. A tapping drum thumps into the light as buzzing harmonies ride on whistles and swoops. Tones dreamily gambol in as the beats increase and rise through the gloom. Introspective noises sparkle among tentative tempo and progression. A bass grows, it plummets a dish of gravity into the floor as airy synthesisers explore the lofty regions. Oons Ide fizzes with metered power, expertly matured and curdled into butter.
If You Fall comes after. It draws in with jangling wooden chimes and breezy blues guitar. Vocal enters with poetic vibrations as chords swish and sit us down next to new friends. Long grasses sway in time to the music as the natural scene reaffirms our right to exist. Long alluring stares from nearby faces cause us to pay attention, yet remain cool as we intently absorb the atmosphere. The next track bubbles into being with a strummed acoustic guitar. A backdrop of sound scatters odds and ends across an unsure platform that wobbles under foot. The music simmers down into trumpet tones that decorate angular emotions. Sometime draws us in a little closer and remains analogue at high resolution.
A deep, resonant bass drives Siskor into our presence. Sloshy under-tones reverberate and grow, the ambience coloured by rhythmic direction. Plip sounds and interesting waves streak the mix as direction and motivation decide between themselves. Are we lost or are we simply without an agenda? A stroll through odd architecture and rolling memorable highways gives us plenty to think about. When Eternity, the new addition begins on an adjacent rung. Tones from a keyboard knit new dimensions as guitar and trumpet rise like cake. A voice drizzles over the sweet and savoury mixture in delicate and meaningful bursts.
This is followed by a quiet introduction that suddenly blooms with digital jazz. Smooth chords waver out across heat lines in evening tarmac. Odd harmonics warble and bounce through eerie bells and windswept corridors. Until We Meet progresses gently with fragile interludes of breath catching translucency. Fantasia begins and rambling rhythms jingle out on branches of perspective. Dirty notes bend and strike as a vocal line adds humanistic directions. Sleek rhythm boils under slightly adjusted pressures as verses speak softly in poetic phrases. The album ends with Aurora. The music grows like the dawn across distant forest horizons. Hills glisten in golden reflections as birds leap in lines from autumn trees. Huge wafts of curtain sound draw and cover the chaos of silence with strong and meaningful motions of dancing composition.
Listen to Shcaa on Spotify
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Rowan Blair Colver for The Electro Review.