Label: Infinite Drone
Keywords: Drone, Minimal, Ambient
Reviewer: Alex Spalding
We are all, each one of us, the largely unwitting slaves of external forces beyond our control. Some are more or less benign, like “Hey, the weather’s really nice and I’m enjoying being outside.” Others are more malevolent, like “You have explosive diarrhea now, lol.” Music is one such force, for which Covolux is an agent. So is curiosity, which leads us to ask questions like, “Why, who, where, what, when, how?” For every question answered, more always seem to spring forth… this album raises several. Who made this, why is it so good, where can I get a copy? I hope to answer these questions and maybe several others that I’ve forgotten to ask by the end of this review.
The first bit of sound we hear is a low drone on ‘1200’, sounding a bit like someone blowing through a giant bell, sending vibrations through the air. These change in tone, forming a kind of melodic ambiance that seems to reverberate throughout space. I imagine a slow-descending spacecraft in the fuzzy blur of a dream, waking to the soft light of the morning pouring in through a curtained window. Everything seems hazy and low. The melodies are light and I also hear what sounds like a humming electronic radiator of white noise in the background.
The following track, ‘Life Has No Meaning’, surreptitiously enters with the harmonic drone of strings washed out under reverb to become a sort of ambient atmosphere. The mood is surprisingly light, lovely and sentimental despite the title which lead me to believe I’d be hearing something rather more bleak or despairing. There is a sadness to it, but it is like the fleeting, cosmic sadness that forms a sort of shadow in the space marking the transitions from note to note, each individual note representing the other aspects of universality like hope and humanism. Chord structures minimally develop as higher octaves enter and are layered over the top of the lower harmonies. These lend the piece a meditative vibe for me.
Next, ‘Drained’ takes a wash of white noise and amplifies it with reverberation, sounding like a beach on which we seem to be experiencing the echos of every wave. Very lovely, bright drone pads come up gradually, like a sunrise. I almost imagine these pads drifting out from beyond the visible horizon, like a siren’s song luring us out to the seas.
‘Light’ feels a lot darker than a lot of the previous material somehow! I wonder if this was on purpose, a bit of humour? Hollow, cavernous thrum of a drone, spacious and poorly lit… I hear a whisper of a high-octave pad tone melody someplace back there, maybe in one of the more well-ventilated and lit areas of the cavern. For some reason I keep thinking about this game I used to love for the SNES, Illusion Of Gaia… I recently replayed it and beat it again, but this track is what the Angel Village should have sounded like…
… oh, and then there’s ‘Why’, the titular track. More bright, heavenly pad drones absorb you, it’s like a ceremonial procession of worldly forces, grand, majestic, sublime, and also there is a yearning feeling, like a wish to live and experience joy, sorrow and all the things that can come to pass in life.
Very heavy, intense, often beautiful cosmic drone on this album. Why? Find out for yourself at the link below: