SYLVIAN, DAVID
THE DISTANCE BETWEEN THE KILLER AND
Label: NANOQ
Releasedatum: 26-02-2027
Herkomst: NL
Item-nr: 4940631
EAN: 5061010506109
Levertijd: Verwacht op 26-02
Recensie
The freshly minted label Nanoq release a new album by David Sylvian titled The Distance Between The Killer and the Killing. It's the first album Sylvian has released in 15 years. composed of sessions recorded between 2012 - 2025, the album is based on recomposed improvisational sessions with a variety of artists ranging from Otomo Yoshihide, Ryuichi Sakamoto, Bilianna Voutchkova and Miako Klein, to Jamie Drouin, Lance Austin Olson and more.
The 46 min instrumental is unlike anything tackled by Sylvian before and is seen by Sylvian himself as the official follow up to his 2009 album Manafon. In Pauline Nadrigny's essay on the album, she describes something of the listening experience. '... voices surge that belong to no one in particular. One that hoots and hums across a violin, worked until it loses its voice, becomes mere matter among other matter. A voice inside the breath of a clarinet or a recorder. Grunts, gurgles, distant cries, somewhere between man and bird, woman and nuthatch. Fragments of choirs, far off, snatches of a song long since lost. Too far to be recovered.'
'What a remarkable piece of work. At times it feels like listening to a symphony; at others, as though (Sylvian's) voice is speaking through the music. At first, I was trying to find my own sound, but somewhere along the way I completely forgot about that and became utterly absorbed in the music. Hearing Ryuichi's presence emerge here and there throughout the piece also brings a very special feeling for me. Thank you for creating something so extraordinary.'
The 46 min instrumental is unlike anything tackled by Sylvian before and is seen by Sylvian himself as the official follow up to his 2009 album Manafon. In Pauline Nadrigny's essay on the album, she describes something of the listening experience. '... voices surge that belong to no one in particular. One that hoots and hums across a violin, worked until it loses its voice, becomes mere matter among other matter. A voice inside the breath of a clarinet or a recorder. Grunts, gurgles, distant cries, somewhere between man and bird, woman and nuthatch. Fragments of choirs, far off, snatches of a song long since lost. Too far to be recovered.'
'What a remarkable piece of work. At times it feels like listening to a symphony; at others, as though (Sylvian's) voice is speaking through the music. At first, I was trying to find my own sound, but somewhere along the way I completely forgot about that and became utterly absorbed in the music. Hearing Ryuichi's presence emerge here and there throughout the piece also brings a very special feeling for me. Thank you for creating something so extraordinary.'
