(28 Angles)

While I’m listening, the sun is setting and a strange light irradiates the surroundings. It’s a perfect context for a music full of melancholy and shadowy atmospheres, even if it springs out of a computer treatment of guitar sounds. Greg Headley’s self-contained mimesis is similar to watching a multiform rock while it sinks in the waters of a limpid sea: initially you can still see its contour, then everything gets blurred and opaque until it’s swallowed by the blue. Accordingly, guitar chords get multiplied, fragmented, looped and transformed into minimal particles; halos of consonant harmonics suddenly disappear in favour of ferruginous resonances keeping a detached poise. Quite often the vibrations protract their stay, contributing to an unconformable strange quietness before a storm that won’t come anyway.

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