Born and raised in the mountains of Northeast Vietnam, Lý Trang had to push out into the wider world before reaching an artistic epiphany. Her second album "Syenite" is grounded in a sense of alienation, first when she left home and moved to Hanoi for school, and latterly when she relocated to Moscow just a few months before the Russian invasion of Ukraine. In Hanoi, Tr...(展开全部) Born and raised in the mountains of Northeast Vietnam, Lý Trang had to push out into the wider world before reaching an artistic epiphany. Her second album "Syenite" is grounded in a sense of alienation, first when she left home and moved to Hanoi for school, and latterly when she relocated to Moscow just a few months before the Russian invasion of Ukraine. In Hanoi, Trang's withdrawal eased when she connected with the local underground scene, joining Rắn Cạp Đuôi Collective - who released "Ngủ Ngày Ngay Ngày Tận Thế" on Subtext in 2021 - for short period before focusing more on her work as a multimedia artist. In the Russian capital meanwhile, her separation from home cracked open a deep yearning that swallowed up the erupting geopolitical uncertainty and disillusion, crystallizing into 10 exquisite electro-acoustic jewels. Trang's light-headed estrangement is evident from the first moments of opening track 'Look I Finally Have an Umbilical Cord'. Snatched cello drones whisper over ASMR rattles, church bells, static belches and whirring, factory floor electronics form a crepuscular haze that disperses into traditional rhythms and gaseous, fourth-world atmospheres. 'So, Flag on Flag' switches paths aesthetically, juxtaposing Trang's Trish Keenan-like vocal echoes with brittle industrial percussion and dissociated music box twangs, building out the emotional narrative rather than blocking it in. The composer is keen to embed her experiences into each track, abstracting traditional elements like gongs and indigenous woodwind instruments with anxious digital processes, blurring through folk, experimental, jazz and dark ambient landscapes. 'Arbat Station' hums with the epoch-defining energy of Talk Talk's "Spirit of Eden" and David Toop's "Spirit World", while 'Sand Congee' and 'Zero Gravity' are as weightless and terrifying as Coil's "Musick to Play in the Dark", or even Lustmord."And as I was looking around / It was ending over again and again," she laments coolly on 'And Phosphenes', searching for reason as new surroundings erode around her. Hollow rhythms follow folkloric instrumental phrases, and the music buzzes with widescreen magic - it's hardly surprising that Trang has experience with scoring. She released her debut film "Sisyphus's Cat" last year, a conceptually complimentary short that charted the search for a lost pet in a parallel universe, and her music follows a similar trajectory, interpreting interlocking themes sonically instead of visually. "Syenite" is a bold and personal question from an artist who's restlessly looking for answers, no matter how complex and open-ended they might be.
还没人写过短评呢
还没人写过短评呢