€28,00
in stock
0
0
What begins with distorted drones and an undercurrent of dread gradually gives way to something more accepting. A slow-building crescendo rises through the dissonance, revealing a glimmer of hope.
Mercy View is the first album from noise collective Bus Gas since 2018. A welcome return, it is a haunting sonic journey that blends drone, ambient, and post-rock into a scorching, melancholic whole. At nearly an hour in length, this seven-track album explores darkness and brightness, contrasting the alienation of solitude with the healing qualities of community.
Following their 2018 split album Immortal Yeller / Mountains Past, Mercy View finds Bus Gas collaborating once again with Portland-based ambient artist Amulets, whose analog tape-loop soundscapes weave through many of the tracks. Together, they create a densely layered, often disorienting environment, a world that feels deeply personal and universally bleak.
There’s the sensation of wandering alone through the woods with a broken flashlight, of stumbling upon a mysterious séance in an isolated field. These images speak to the album’s emotional center: dread, longing, and revenge against the slow march of time. The album’s tone is dark and often relentless, but there are moments of tranquility, of floating, of calm.
The music of Mercy View is often cryptic and languid, yet undeniably heavy. The threads running throughout this instrumental album reflect a sense of instability and fragility, of trekking through unfamiliar terrain, both external and internal. Spaced-out compositions reach toward the cosmos, only to collapse under their own weight. There are moments of relief, where the music feels like a long sword catching the sun’s reflection and forming a brief, fractured rainbow, only to zoom out and reveal an environment of layered chaos.
Mercy View is a disquieting sonic landscape with a strange kind of comfort. Like a heavy blanket of distortion that wraps around the listener, both protecting and unsettling them. Tape hiss, looped textures, and creeping distortions work together to pull the listener into an increasingly extraterrestrial and cinematic world, one that feels distant yet deeply familiar. Bus Gas and Amulets have crafted something achingly beautiful and relentlessly bleak, a listening experience that lingers long after the final track fades into silence.
€28,00
in stock
What begins with distorted drones and an undercurrent of dread gradually gives way to something more accepting. A slow-building crescendo rises through the dissonance, revealing a glimmer of hope.
Mercy View is the first album from noise collective Bus Gas since 2018. A welcome return, it is a haunting sonic journey that blends drone, ambient, and post-rock into a scorching, melancholic whole. At nearly an hour in length, this seven-track album explores darkness and brightness, contrasting the alienation of solitude with the healing qualities of community.
Following their 2018 split album Immortal Yeller / Mountains Past, Mercy View finds Bus Gas collaborating once again with Portland-based ambient artist Amulets, whose analog tape-loop soundscapes weave through many of the tracks. Together, they create a densely layered, often disorienting environment, a world that feels deeply personal and universally bleak.
There’s the sensation of wandering alone through the woods with a broken flashlight, of stumbling upon a mysterious séance in an isolated field. These images speak to the album’s emotional center: dread, longing, and revenge against the slow march of time. The album’s tone is dark and often relentless, but there are moments of tranquility, of floating, of calm.
The music of Mercy View is often cryptic and languid, yet undeniably heavy. The threads running throughout this instrumental album reflect a sense of instability and fragility, of trekking through unfamiliar terrain, both external and internal. Spaced-out compositions reach toward the cosmos, only to collapse under their own weight. There are moments of relief, where the music feels like a long sword catching the sun’s reflection and forming a brief, fractured rainbow, only to zoom out and reveal an environment of layered chaos.
Mercy View is a disquieting sonic landscape with a strange kind of comfort. Like a heavy blanket of distortion that wraps around the listener, both protecting and unsettling them. Tape hiss, looped textures, and creeping distortions work together to pull the listener into an increasingly extraterrestrial and cinematic world, one that feels distant yet deeply familiar. Bus Gas and Amulets have crafted something achingly beautiful and relentlessly bleak, a listening experience that lingers long after the final track fades into silence.
buitenwallepad 4, ghent fri to sat · 13:00 to 18:00
