A grand music of fragments. Instead of identifiable notes, there are gasps, hisses, scribbles and chimes in a constantly reconfiguring mosaic of small, precise sounds. But blue thirty-eight is recognisably a composition, and not a freeform exercise in squall. That’s not to knock freeform exercises in squall, which we’re as susceptible to the charms of as anyone – but this is music full of purpose and direction – it just takes a few listens to find it.
Little is known about Obsidian Shard, the author of this stuttering symphony, but it is clear that this is an entity of an evolved and difficult-to-second-guess musical intelligence.
If we’re making this sound difficult, be assured that it isn’t – this is a work that hits the same pleasure centres of the brain as our Claus Poulsen- Stuart Chalmers-Taming Power axis of releases, or the playful oddities constructed by Ratkiller or Suren Seneviratne.