REVIEW: AeTopus - Urbus

AeTopus
Urbus

PROLOGUE: Some instrumental artists inhabit a small niche (e.g., when compared to solo piano) that has no real defined label. Artists in this small group include Patrick O’Hearn, John Flomer, Jon Jenkins, David Helpling, and Bryan T. Hughes, who records as AeTopus. This sub-sub-genre belongs not purely to ambient, as it usually features strong melodic content as well as rhythms that seldom occur in Eno-esque ambient music. In addition, these artists’ music benefits from direct listening for maximum enjoyment which, for most devotees of ambient, is the opposite intention of the genre. While much of their music can be electronic in nature, it certainly doesn’t belong alongside the Berlin school, dub, glitch, or any other offshoots of electronic or ambient music. Likewise, the presence on most of their releases of dynamism rules out spacemusic as well. As a result, it’s an exercise in futility to classify these excellent musicians except to state that all of them make great music. Which brings us to the latest release from AeTopus (Bryan T. Hughes), Urbus

Throughout his career (so far) one of the aspects that has always appealed to me with Hughes’ music is an element of, fort lack of a better term, a mythic sense of power, drama, steeped in a flavor combining fantasy and science fiction. It’s difficult for me to specifically state “how” he does this. However, I always feel that when I listen to his albums, and Urbus underscores these sonic elements, that I am traveling to an unknown and unexplored soundscape . Maybe it’s how he combines subtle tribal percussive rhythms with shifting sands of keyboards and brilliant lead melodies. Maybe part of it is also his song titles themselves (e.g., “Sysisys,” “Zoan,” “Creacyon, “First Ones,” et al.) which could be read as indications of a civilization that exists beyond our norm, either meaning extra-terrestrial or perhaps in a parallel dimension. I don’t propose to define it, per se, but to appreciate its (i.e., the music’s) rare blend of otherworldliness with overt “pleasant” melodic sensibility. This is simply great music to dive into and explore every nook and cranny.

Hughes’ music is never dark in any traditional sense, and while there are subtle, barely discernible moments of what could be construed as playfulness, the overarching music themes are more drenched in mystery, fog, yet with no sensation of menace or threat. For comparison’s sake, one of the albums that Hughes music reminds me of is Robyn Miller’s brilliant soundtrack to the legendary computer game, Riven. So, you can surmise from that comment that Urbus could lend its sonic pleasures to flights of fantasy if one turned out the lights and had an active and visual imagination. Truthfully, I am surprised no one has put this music to videos of something similar to those which accompanied the first two “Mind’s Eye” videos (music by James Reynolds and Jan Hammer, respectively).

A lot of this review may strike you as painting AeTopus’ Urbus as overly cerebral, which is not wholly inaccurate, but all eight tracks are also visceral (i.e., “relating to deep inward feelings rather than to the intellect.”). Depending how deep you delve into Urbus, you can be merely aurally entertained or discover hidden pathways to something beyond the notes and melodies. I will leave that crossroads up to you, but regardless of which route you take, it’s going to be a delightful trip.

 

ALBUM DETAILS

All tracks composed, performed, produced and arranged by Bryan T. Hughes
Mixing by Bill Simpkins at Alpenglow Sound Studios, Bellingham, WA
Mastered by Greg Reierson at Rare Form Mastering, Minneapolis, MN
Album color graphics by Amy Poliner

REVIEW: AETOPUS - Cup

 

AeTopus

Cup

Spotted Peccary (2023)

 

AeTopus, a.k.a. Bryan T. Hughes, somewhat reinvents himself as he transitions from self-releasing his music to joining the star-studded label, Spotted Peccary. I believe that the (what for me are) subtle/not-so subtle changes were not brought about by the switch but instead represents an evolution in Hughes’ musical persona itself. When I posited this theory on his AeTopus Facebook page, i.e., asking if Cup represented a musical shift in his style, he replied "You are absolutely not a clueless nutball and, in fact, you are the first to express these ideas. I've really gotten into so-called 'IDM' over the past couple of years, and a lot of that glitchy detail and percussive unpredictability has apparently snuck into the sound. AeTopus seems to be evolving, and I'm really looking forward to your observations!' "

 

I have followed Hughes' career beginning back in 2002 with Memories of the Elder of which I wrote "Suffice it to say that Memories of the Elder explores darker territory than most modern day electronic keyboard music, but seldom, if ever, wanders over into floating ambient terrain or noir-ish scariness…What makes the work of AeTopus/Hughes so remarkable is how fresh all this sounds. There is no trace of faux sentimentality and no attempt to play it safe on this CD. While it's nothing if not accessible, it's also an exciting and different take on keyboard music that I never grew tired of, even when I played it back-to-back. I can't offer a stronger endorsement than that."

 

Over the next twenty years, Hughes continuously pushed both the genre's and his own personal envelope, but with Cup he has, at least somewhat, thrown away the old envelope and bought a new one. On this album, he explores some of the same stylings as on past work, i.e., meshing assorted EM and "melodic" ambient styles while also incorporating a more direct Berlin school influence at times, and adding glitch, IDM, and on some cuts, a distinctive retro electronic style from way back in the days of e.g., Michael Garrison, Patrick Gleeson, and other pioneers of synthesizer music. Explaining further, what I hear is not imitative or even directly influenced by these or other artists, because one thing that Hughes has always emphasized is his originality (see the prologue to my review of his previous album, Urbus, which is posted at the same time as this one).

 

Some of what was present on Urbus is either missing or subdued here and instead a somewhat darker and more fluid purer ambient/spacemusic sound surfaces here and there. I admit to missing some of his more mystical/tribal/mythic elements (as I stated in my Urbus review "For comparison’s sake, one of the albums that Hughes music reminds me of is Robyn Miller’s brilliant soundtrack to the legendary computer game, Riven. So, you can surmise from that comment that Urbus could lend its sonic pleasures to flights of fantasy if one turned out the lights and had an active and visual imagination."

 

Cup lends itself to the same visual imaging as his earlier work, but it's somehow different. The overt (IMO) presence of so many "call outs" in a more pronounced manner is, for me, a kind of trip down EM memory lane… e.g. I was reminded of the Groove Ultd artist Can Atilla at the four-minute mark of "Beam," and the bass-heavy techno-ish second half of "Access." On the other hand, the opening of "Clean Break" is vintage AeTopus with its ancient tribal rhythms matched with haunting snippets of melody played on some of his more usual characteristic keyboards (before incorporating a sound that, for me, reminds me what Daft Punk did on some tracks of their Tron: Legacy soundtrack.

 

Look, any creative artist worth his/her salt evolves over time unless they are stuck in a holding pattern of their design. Bryan T. Hughes never was "in a mold", so to speak, as his music, in and of itself, was always coloring outside the lines. Cup, though, showcases his willingness, maybe even his need, to roam farther afield than his other albums while still staying true to his core musical self. By bringing in new elements, his appeal can only broaden, except for those to whom change is anathema. I am not one of those people and I can only imagine that Hughes will have more up his sleeve in the years to come.

 

 

ALBUM DETAILS

All tracks composed, performed, produced, and arranged by Bryan Tewell Hughes

Mixing by Bill Simpkins at Alpenglow Sound Studios, Bellingham, WA

Percussion on "Relic," "Glance," and "Sundial" performed by Mike Bajuk

Mastered by Howard Givens at Spotted Peccary Studios NW in Portland, OR

Album design by Daniel Pipitone at Spotted Peccary Studios NE in Ligonier, PA

 

REVIEW: MASAKO - Call of the Mountains - Ascent

MASAKO
Call of the Mountains – Ascent
(2023)

Just one or two songs into my first playing of Masako’s newest release, Call of the Mountains – Ascent revealed why this pianist has garnered universal acclaim and recognition in the well-populated genre of new age piano with not just this album but with all her previous releases. She is not just an artist with technical mastery of her instrument, but also a gifted composer who understands how to infuse her playing with a sense of intimacy that translates into music that can be enjoyed over and over with equal enthusiasm each time. Her style is a combination of accessibility with a subtle sensation of poeticism, never literally minimal but at times exploring the melody through the playing of fewer, rather than more notes. In addition, as she traverses a variety of tempos and moods, her actual method of playing the piano is signature enough that her albums, including this one, remain wholly cohesive. Masako’s “softer” side is somewhat dominant (something I prefer from a subjective standpoint) although a few sparkles of cheerfulness and fun can be heard as well. The overarching theme, if you will, is one of warmth and positivity, influenced by her deep-rooted love of the natural world, as some of the album’s song titles clearly display, e.g., “Conifers,” “Embraced by Green,” “Swift River,” and “Above the Treeline.”

Joining Masako on the recording are some of the Imaginary Road Studios hugely talented musicians that I whimsically refer to as the IRS usual suspects (see credits below) and, obviously, when they contribute their talents it ratchets up the music’s emotive impact, although, truthfully, Masako is one of those pianists that, while she benefits from some accompaniment, she can, from a musical standpoint, stand just fine on her own two feet (or, better choice of words would be her own two hands).

On the promotional one sheet for the album, it's written that Masako lives in the northeast United States and that " Most of her compositions have been inspired by nature. She hopes that her love of nature and eco-consciousness are reflected in her sound, and that her music could help in some way to protect our beautiful planet." The abundant beauty where she lives is absolutely reflected in her music on this album. In this way, she is like Jill Haley who is equally inspired by nature (in the latter case, her many artist-in-residencies at assorted National Parks). Both these ultra-talented musicians create music that can take the listener on walks through landscapes showcasing a variety of natural beauty.

Two of the biggest draws I found on Call of the Mountains – Ascent was its gentility and its sincere soulfulness. Masako is one of those few pianists who, when she plays, imparts a feeling that she is playing just for you, i.e., creating an intimate listening space where she and the listener occupy simultaneously. This is talent of the highest degree and it requires immense control of nuance and tone for a pianist. Masako never veers into melodrama, always tending to the subtler expressions of emotion. As mentioned earlier, Masako allows the fewest notes to communicate her theme yet without veering into overt minimalism, which can prove alienating to a casual listener.

The tone and mood of the music itself is mostly low key and slower in tempo, even on a track titled "Swift River." Many songs have a haunting quality to them, like that of a recalled pleasant memory. Call of the Mountains – Ascent is custom-tailored for afternoon daydreaming or relaxing after a busy day. The music will seep into your heart and you will likely feel your cares slowly dissipate. Embrace the gentleness of spirit that permeates Masako's superb playing and know you are in good hands.

ALBUM DETAILS
All songs composed by Masako
Produced by Masako, Will Ackerman, and Tom Eaton
Mixed and mastered by Tom Eaton
Recorded at Imaginary Road Studios

MUSICIANS:
Masako: Piano
Charlie Bisharat: Violin
Eugene Friesen: Cello
Jeff Haynes: Percussion
Jeff Oster: Flugelhorn and trumpet
Noah Wilding: Vocals
Premik Russell Tubbs: EWI
Tom Eaton: Bass and synthesizer

REVIEW: LIS ADDISON - Songs from the Mara

LIS ADDISON
Songs from the Mara

On some of Lis Addison’s previous album reviews, I often extolled the amazing vocal talent she possesses. For example, in 2010, I reviewed her album The Grace of the Green Leaf and wrote “The more I listened to Lis Addison's The Grace of the Green Leaf, the more I couldn't decide what I was more impressed with - her wonderfully sensual vocals or her amazing talent on beats and keyboards,” and in 2013 I reviewed Crown In The Sky of which I opined “Crown In The Sky once again features Addison's sultry and earthy vocals…” In fact, as a testament to her vocal talents, Lis won Best Vocal Album in 2010 from Zone Music Reporter for The Grace of the Green Leaf. An award she well deserved in my opinion.

Because of the past emphasis on her beautiful voice and the accolades it brought her, I was surprised that on her newest album, Songs from the Mara, Addison’s vocals actually takes a back seat to her astonishing talent for creating soothing keyboard and electronic soundscapes which she then melds with expertly recorded (by her) African nature and environmental sounds. The result is a truly immersive listening experience, the perfect blending of music and natural sounds that is almost certain to transport the listener to the Maasai Mara in Kenya. On her way to Kitui, Kenya to plant trees with her Singing Tree Institute non-profit, Lis stopped at the Maasai Mara. In both places she recorded the sounds of nature that serenaded her. These sounds inspired Songs from the Mara and were incorporated into the music.

The album opener, “Sunrise on the Mara,” begins with a serenade of songbirds greeting the new day while a warm, flowing piano melody joins in as well as assorted keyboard textures and embellishments – just gorgeous. A gentle bell tone rhythm comes into play along with Addison’s wordless vocals adding another level of beauty. Next up, “Sunset on the Mara,” has singing bowls accompanying birdsong and running water along with a repeating harp-like melody and Addison’s vocals (again wordless). As the song develops, more layers of keyboards and some shaker percussions are folded in. The haunting serenity of the song fills the air like softly scented incense. By this point, one can’t help but be impressed with all the assorted musical elements that Addison is utilizing to craft such wondrous soundscapes, not to mention the deftness with which she mixes in nature and environmental sounds. I had forgotten (from previous reviews of her music I had written) how talented she was at the dizzying assortment of keyboard sounds she has available at her home studio.

"Kitui Rain” features a slight bubbly effervescent mood via an ambient-esque synthesizer lead melody as well as a plaintive secondary orchestral string melody that develops later in the track, accompanied by bell tones. As the track ends, crickets and frogs join in to bring the song to a blissful conclusion. While I frequently concentrated my praise on Addison’s vocals on her earlier releases, on Songs from the Mara she allows her proficiency on keyboards and composing to come to the forefront. In fact, with those talents on prominent display, Lis Addison deserves a place among the best in the electronic keyboard genres of New Age and ambient music.

Two more fantastic songs (“Elephants on the Mara,” and “Lioness and Three Cubs”) lead into the concluding number, the 10-minute “Dream of the Mara” which takes the listener into even deeper ambient and, appropriately, dreamy territory. The sounds of flowing water and other nature elements waft over layers of lush keyboards, joined later by vibrant birdsong, and a tamboura drone joins in with the other sounds. A chorus of frogs (a rather large chorus it sounds like!) contributes their “voices” to the mix. Later, a percolating acoustic percussion beat emerges, injecting the sonic proceedings with a heartbeat like pulse. As the song winds down, some crickets decide to get in on the fun as well. All this time, the underlying ambient music soundscape flows uninterrupted, slowly fading amongst the reverberations from a singing bowl.

What can I say other than I am ultra-impressed with Songs from the Mara. Lis Addison has outdone herself, which is a bold statement based on her previous work. My praise for the album is in no way a diminishing statement about her usual fantastic singing and vocals, but instead, Songs from the Mara

clearly shows how broad and deep her many musical talents are. This is as essential an album as I have heard in years.