ninehertz

This is a minimalist's wet dream, around half an hour of dreamy, listless wandering.

Kwaidan is three people, but three very relaxed people it seems, the music contained on this rather snazzy tape is like a music box buried in a well.

The tracks all have this muffled, clouded sound to them, distant, yet deeply moving. What sounds like a guitar on an infinite loop of muted feedback pervades most of the release, while another plays subtle, dropped hints of riffs delicately over the top. Like emerging from moist to see the mountain top, it is calm, serene and relaxing.

When percussion comes in, and it does in slivers, it is merely soft brushing or contact of stick on skin, rather than any full strikes which keeps the held-back, tension-filled music within safe, but tearse boundaries.

This is the kind of thing you find in darkened back rooms of pubs, with people huddled on the floor or freaking out doing that dance that only noise or experimental fans can do, keeping time to the non-existence of a beat.

Interesting to a point, but ultimately aimless, which is why lots of people will investigate.