Album: CAGEDANCR. – again.

I don’t quite know how to describe this faded photograph of an album; but god, it’s a beautiful thing- minimalist,  hypnotic, lo-fi guitar music, where curious aphorisms are fed through a spectrum of vintage samples that nag and paw at the inner ear, and carry with their driving cycles a surprising emotional weight. It’s an ephemeral, slippery, blurry thing… It’s unsettling too- I feel its voice in my head, echoing back through a broken telephone loop. This is music haunted by ghosts and by parallel worlds, metallic drum machines occasionally punctuating the perforating disquiet. But there is beauty to be found here too- these slow, lullaby-like compositions are able to lull and mesmerise. Brevity is key. There’s no time wasted. 

“…He never knew how much I loved him

I guess he never knew I existed at all…”

Each brief moment feels special but there are highlights nevertheless. Second track ‘pills’ is a real favourite – all quivering tape warble and soaring plucked notes – the guitar tone utterly beautiful, glacial and glorious. Its slow-core experiments recall at times the four track undulations of Orchid Mantis’s instrumental offshoots, at others the playful wonk of Jonny Trunk’s early solo albums, and even a skeletal Casio ghost of Public Service Broadcasting. But this is such a strange tonal collision – those spectral, clipped voices beamed in from another world rubbing shoulders with that fuzzy hum of the music- it becomes its own thing entirely. 

I’ll say it again though – I love the guitar tone on these tracks, tuning strayed to wonky,  fracturing perfection whilst detached voices pose existential questions to feed the hungry dread of your subconscious. On ‘video essay‘ this is bolstered further by the cinematic thrum of tremolo, and the quivering pop of that haunted drum machine- a song that seems to have read the darker corners of my tired mind. 

“I feel like I’m wasting my life away

I’m watching it happen yet I’m not doing anything to fix it

I’m wasting my youth away…”

Well…It’s too late for me…

11 tracks (some of which are alternate takes) and only 18 minutes long. This is light as a feather. But it packs a mighty punch. This is music to hold close like a secret. 

Written by M.A Welsh (Misophone) 

Music | Misophone (bandcamp.com)