Palancar: Counting Raindrops
The previous releases by Palancar may be open and lean, yet also includes some which are composed and commanding. Counting Raindrops (69’59”) seems to reconcile these two tendencies. Darrell Wade Burgan (recording under the name Palancar) realizes music so gorgeously wrought that the listener will stop again and again just to admire the sound craftsmanship. In possession of a sophisticated ear Burgan presents seven inventions of capital-a Ambient music. Some go dark, while others hit with open-sky directness. Each construction unfolds along an unbroken arc, wandering from its point of origin to its consignment within the listener’s moment of experience. Where one work passes stormily, in a state of volatility and flux, the next goes by in a velvety synthetic orchestration. A sense of anxious instability in one place is balanced by the feeling of exhilaration in another. Recordings of nature fade in amidst purple beds of consoling electronic fabrications – earned through the industry of metallic dissonance earlier on. Spacesmith Burgan elegantly explores a full range of moods, textures and atmosphere. The vibrant tone paintings, ethereal voices and animated frequencies of Counting Raindrops provide a refreshing contrast to the elemental hum, primeval drones and hollow chords interspersed throughout this album. Its radiant invasion of space is an acknowledgement of all the contradictions in our world. Sprawling structures are built up, then crumble into groaning opacity – a sonic halo giving the harmony an eternal quality. In his irreversible progress Palancar makes music for times when it is hard to find words, or when none exist – occupying calm regions of the inwardly aware.