Aquavoice – Cold

1 review for Aquavoice – Cold

1. 

   Sylvain Lupari / Guts Of Darkness – 2022-11-22

   Aquavoice is the musical project of Polish synthesist Tadeusz Luczejko, who found its niche within an interesting label of EM from Poland which is plentiful of very fascinating artists. Seventh album from Tadeusz Luczejko, Cold is a disconcerting abstract and ambient symphony, of which the syncretism of tones adds a surreal dimension in a sound collage stem from all the facets of equipments and imagination of Luczejko, creating an amazing abstract journey in a musical universe as ambient as a storm of wind on a crystalline plain.

   Cold I to III open this anarchic symbiosis with eclectic sonorities which abound in a sphere where the ambient crosses the abstract. Silky and wavering layers intersect themselves and howl such of spectral masses among fine droplets which stream on the walls of a cave from another world pave Cold I road. Already the contrast of places and the paradox of senses are mutual. The movement is superbly tender and the ambiance is deliciously resting whereas pulsations with tinny resonances hammer a strange procession of sounds which derive towards the oblivion of Cold II. Nothingness aromatized of motionless layers which are assail by light riffs of a discrete guitar and rattlesnake serpentines which untie their sonorities in a sound universe at the crossing of Brian Eno, Robert Fripp, Markus Reuter and some will advance the name of Harold Budd, which I do not unfortunately know. Cold belongs as much to the imagination of the listener as to the conceptual idea of its creator.
   Take example on Cold III where we hear someone breaking up wood in a Kitaroan forest, whereas guitar pads circulate in loops between minimalisms and sporadic chord of keyboards, relegating to oubliettes the strange murmur of a hardly comprehensible feminine voice.
   Cold IV is quite simply charming with its keyboard notes that someone taps away to the drift and which come back in loop on a fine baseline and a xylophone of glass whose notes wriggle like elytrum of a metallic cricket, shaping a stunning sensual pulsation even if completely abstract.
   Cold V intro could have been straight from a Martian ritual exorcism that we wont be surprise. Syncretic streak tear the quietude of a machine humming whereas a voice howls an unknown dialect, the universe becomes source of infernal din which is appeased gradually around the 3rd minute, freeing a rare peace which is soothing in the shade of a soft crystal tower.
   Cold VI follows on this ethereal softness with fine pads of a solitary synth which wander among soft and silky floating and fluty lines, bringing back Cold in the bosom of a more accessible work.
   Cold VII offers a morose approach where a voice of man mumbles in Polish on a slow and sad melancholic structure. A little as Vangelis on Blade Runner, Tadeusz Luczejko likes to let his notes sink in nothingness. Notes that float and wander to be molded within forms and imaginations of Aquavoices cofounder. With its organ surges of which hem chimerical waves, Cold VIII is the most animated track on Cold. A beautiful piece where sonorities spark on the top of lunar seas weaved to a synth with stroller waves and twisted solos which ravel in a ball of multi-colored sonorities which collide in wadding forged of steel. One of the best tracks on Cold! A soft and discrete incantation goes with a synth from which waves and streaks filled of spectral zests wander windingly among Japanese guitar notes; Cold IX is as much intriguing as Cold X which borrows an unsetting and harrowing path with its furtive noises, its weak hooting and its doors which squeak in an odd c. This 1st experiment with Aquavoice left me as perplexed as charmed per moments.

   Cold is an album difficult to tame because we are constantly immersed in a sonata for background noises in a constant search of an out of joint harmony. There are great moments. Strong and disconcerting moments, I think in particular of Cold IV, VI, VIII and XIII which make that us seeking to discover more on each listening.
   An undeniable sign of the immense depth which lives within Cold.

   2010. Sylvain Lupari / Guts Of Darkness