Beginning his musical life at age 11 switching between guitar and drums, Aaron soon discovered a typical American high school music diet aping Nirvana records wasn’t his thing. The turning point came buying a CD of a cello quartet performing Metallica songs. Hooked on its sound, he started learning to play cello at the relatively late age of 17. His minimal, austere playing s...(展开全部) Beginning his musical life at age 11 switching between guitar and drums, Aaron soon discovered a typical American high school music diet aping Nirvana records wasn’t his thing. The turning point came buying a CD of a cello quartet performing Metallica songs. Hooked on its sound, he started learning to play cello at the relatively late age of 17. His minimal, austere playing style remains a hallmark of his sound, having added a spectrum of instrumentation and a looper pedal to take his pieces into a more kaleidoscopic realm. On Almond, you’ll hear guitar, lap steel, banjo, piano, ukelele, flute, toys and many more instruments and sound sources alongside the cello. Everything on Almond is played by Aaron, except for one solitary sample. His experimental-collage style builds loops into beguiling song forms of folkish charm and emotional resonance – similar to the uncanny pop sensibility fostered by acts such as Neutral Milk Hotel, The Books and Olivia Tremor Control. In their mesmerising way, they ring in the brain like a partially faded memory that stays with you, gradually revealing itself in full. Almond swells with joy, melancholy and whimsy in a kind of warm chemistry that’s hard to pin down. The 24-year old Aaron records where he resides, in an apartment on top of a retirement facility for Vietnam war veterans. He continues to teach cello and expand on the chemistry he’s developed in the peculiar and surprising beauty of Almond. Almond is the reason why the decreased cost of recording technology is a good thing. For every 30,000 idiot beat programmers trying to become the next Aphex Twin, you get someone like Kansas native Aaron Martin. Martin’s secret is that he keeps things simple. It’s clear that it’s home recorded. It retains an intimacy in the way four track recordings did in bygone years. It’s a sound that’s virtually impossible in a recording studio, or perhaps it’s not even the sound but a comfortable way of playing, a relaxed whimsical peaceful feel that you you’d expect can only come late at night in your lounge room. Martin a precocious 24 year old, who plays all the instruments, cello, guitar, ukulele, piano, banjo and toys all himself, isn’t trying to do too much here. It’s minimal austere, contemplative work, where nothing is hurried, where there’s a looseness to his compositions, which come together almost in spite of themselves, in strange plodding waves. It’s probably experimental folk music, though the cello offers a stirring yet mournful vibe that we’ve become more than familiar with via movie soundtracks, so in the end where exactly we’ve ended up can be difficult to discern. Creating and building upon off kilter loops with his instruments, his music is an unlikely form of hypnosis that lulls you in with its sparse fragile instrumentation and down home charm. It’s not that he’s doing anything remarkable, with simple lines and a unique highly personal approach to working with sound Aaron Martin’s debut is inventive and charming, offering both a distinctive vision and skewed warmth where you can’t help but like the guy. t's nice to see a certain progression in the way bedroom music has tumbled over the last few years. From the instant gratification of technological advance which manifested itself in the somewhat irksome IDM explosion, the world has moved on quite pleasantly into a place where producers of all kinds can work in the confines of their own bedrooms and throw together music that is truly mesmerising. Recently the trend toward glitchy electronics has been replaced with one for home-grown low-fidelity folk sounds, and we've been treated to beautiful records from sources such as Digitalis, Fonal and the masses of US micro-labels and cdr imprints doing the rounds. One such gem is this debut full-length from Kansas multi-instrumentalist Aaron Martin, who has been picked up by Australia's always-interesting Preservation label. Taking cues from avant-pranksters The Books and post-classical outfit Clogs, Martin also manages to bring to the record 'that' sound, the sound of home-grown folkish experimentalism bringing to mind Thuja and the Jewelled Antler Collective, MV&EE or The North Sea. This is all placed together expertly with a distinctly US slant - so we hear banjos and fiddles colliding with bubbling electronics and carefully selected vocal cuts, or sweeping strings and delicate electric guitar melodies offset by the sound of hiccupping toys and trickling streams. There is a lightness, a humour and a delicateness to Martin's production that endears his music to you almost instantly and leaves a lasting impression so many recordings fail to do. Where 'Almond' really stands out though is in its composition, the songs rather than being a mess of failed ideas and half-hearted jams seem measured and deeply thoughtful, and this is what sets it apart from so many other albums in the sprawling genre. A gorgeous, whimsical and hugely rewarding record, 'Almond' is one of those records that will warm the room in winter and actually put a smile on your face without resorting to tired old tricks or micro-cliché's. Highly recommedned.
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01 karl rove 02 canopy 03 kentucky 04 water damage 05 bare hands 06 pinball 07 the ducks are just sleeping 08 a robin 09 the bike police 10 darwin 11 le bateau-mouche