You took your Ambien about an hour ago- though exhausted, you can’t sleep. Shadows at the edge of the room take on queer shapes, and you stretch to hear a voice just outside of earshot. This state of trancelike perception is Solace and Shade by Miriam’s Early Garden. Primarily a shoegaze record, Solace and Shade features two stunning ambient tracks: “Closer,” which has a bitcrushed IDM feel, and “Room”, the record’s introduction. “Room” features thick overdriven synth pads littered with hidden crackles and whispers, setting listeners up to be blown away by luscious, wailing guitars that detune and glisten throughout the rest of the album’s length.
A standout among the shoegaze tracks in this record is “Goodbye My Winter Coat, Hello My Mourning Son”. A thin, metallic acoustic guitar sounds out of place following the massive layers of distortion and reverb that came before. After about 30 seconds, a drum fill and reverse cymbal hit explode into blankets of woollen electric guitar. Breathy vocals hiss and drawl through each verse, escaping all attempts at interpretation. This song flawlessly exemplifies the record’s overall use of space, timbre, and time to subvert audience expectations and draw listeners deeper into the fold.
Following the downsampled distortion of “Closer”, “Window” resembles an approach to combining the record’s instrumentals with its more anthemic lyrical pieces. At first, the modulated guitar and shimmering synth pads of “Window” sound like a lo-fi track. It’s a quiet mystery that reaches out and beckons, and just as you let your guard down, it explodes yet again into a whirlwind of overdubbed guitars, layered distortion, and wavering pitch modulation.
The record’s final track stood out to me as its most unique. “Rat House” features the only field recording I was able to hear in Solace and Shade. Lethargic drums drenched in reverb follow the sound of gentle rainfall, which continues throughout the full length of the song. The tempo remains relaxed, vocals falling in line with the rest of the record’s droning, hushed layers. It’s a gentle respite from the weary intensity of what came before. As “Rat House” draws to a close, your eyelids hang heavy. A gentle pitter-patter is the last thing you hear, and finally, in this relative silence, you’re able to sleep.
Written by Hann Sandoz
