Appearing back in April on the Slovakian label, Resonating Wood Records, Mraky released Good Night, an unusual yet sprawling psychedelic trip of an album. For all of my twenty five years I have been a music lover: from learning the theme tune to Lilo & Stitch at age three; morbidly headbanging to nu-metal in my teen years; to falling asleep to ambient music in my early twenties, and I have yet to hear anything like Mraky’s, Good Night.
Beginning with the aptly titled, ‘Wake Up’, the album commences with an intensely whispered proclamation, something utterly disorienting, especially when it falls away into a throbbing guitar line, reminiscent of the more obtuse work David Bowie produced in the 1990s. The largely spoken word, ‘It’s Always The Same’ and ‘The Next Stop’ appear next, marrying the unsettling capabilities of sound-art installations with the polarising genre of acid jazz. These are utterly bizarre moments, but still they are completely immersive, taking their self-earned spot in your mind.
The ways in which Good Night was constructed may give an indication as to how Mraky came up with such a statement. Many of the sounds you hear are from the open source website, freesound.org, giving many of the tracks on the album a collage-like effect. Underneath the noisier moments of ‘Downtown Noise’, it is possible to hear a busy city street undertaking it’s usual business. It is a wild experience to listen to, reminiscent of police-chase scenes in classic movies – it is tongue and cheek, and a lot of fun to visualise. ‘Who Taught You To Fly, Loser?’ is one of the more chilled out moments of the album, with a slinky guitar line and a spoken word sample that feels like you’re watching a crime noir movie. It is completely evocative of a Tarantino scene, before launching into a wave of squeaky ray guns and robotic voices – again, a collage of ideas that really shouldn’t work together, but just do.
I can confidently say that this is the most unique record I have covered whilst writing about music. Although it reads much more as an artistic experiment than a conventional album, it is still strangely listenable. It obliterates all notions of what song-structure is, reassembling the craft of music making from the ground up. For those who wish to find individualism in the oversaturated bedroom pop scene, Mrkay’s Good Night couldn’t be more of an antidote to these familiar sounds. I highly recommend the record if you’re wishing to find something you’ve never heard the likes of, something to soundtrack those nights you’re escaping from those darn pigs.
Written by Callum Foulds