Almost an Island - Almost an Island

A Closer Listen

We don’t often start in the middle of an album, but on these long, hot summer days, with heat waves on both sides of the pond, “In Light Of” is a panacea.  The LP contains very few words, so when twin voices gently urge the listener to “slow it down,” one imagines the hand signal: palm down, pressing on air.  The larger phrase: “slow it down in light of it all.”  In the current climate, meteorological and sociological, the advice could not be more timely.

How might one arrive at this place that is Almost An Island, characterized by calm?  The bread crumbs are laid out by the multi-faceted Kenneth James Gibson and the husband-and-wife duo James and Cynthia Bernard (also known as awakened souls, and Cynthia as marine eyes).  The first step is centering, which one may accomplish by simply being still.  In the opening track, gorgeous waves of synth wash over the listener without crashing, while Cynthia sings a wordless blessing.  In the cover image, a benign presence watches over bucolic hills.

When the guitar arrives in “An Ode to Nothing,” its muted melody is an invitation to take inventory, to look around at one’s surroundings, physical and spiritual.  The track is as much as ode to nothing as Seinfeld was a show about nothing; Instead, it honors the spirit of Wallace Stevens “nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.”  Whenever one chooses to do nothing, one is also choosing to do something, even if that something is nothing, and that nothing may be more substantial than the prior activity.  One might even interpret the track as a tribute to ambient music as a whole; when there doesn’t seem to be much there, there’s a chance that everything is present.

As is somewhat unusual for albums in this genre, the music continues to grow, with brush drums and hints of electronics.  “Wide Open (In Two Parts)” does indeed possess an internal shift, making space for David Cuetter’s pedal steel in the center, conjuring fond memories of Julee Cruise.  The title suggests not only widescreen movies and wide open prairies, but open hearts and minds.  The mood is extended on two subsequent pieces, which draw inspiration from the ambient interludes of post-rock.  The difference is that in post-rock, one yearns for a cathartic explosion, while here, one wishes to extend the feeling of safety for as long as possible.

But one cannot retreat from the world forever, even should one wish to be an island – or almost an island.  “What Got Us To Our Feet” suggests the slow accumulation of internal strength, culminating in a renewed sense of purpose.  To quote Samuel Beckett, “You must go on.  I can’t go on.  I’ll go on.” The attitude underlines the unstated purposes of ambient music: to calm, yes, but also to offer calm as a template for facing storms that may continue to rage.

Slow it down.  Slow it down in light of it all.  

The album peaks in “In Light Of,” then walks slowly back down the mountain, transformed.  There is time to think about all that has transpired, to reflect on the journey, to process the minute shift in consciousness that may have a momentous effect.  In the finale, the synths sound like strings and offer a soft serenade.  We have rested long enough to know that we need not rush back into the world. What we have gained may be intangible, but it holds infinite worth.  (Richard Allen)