Billy Corgan addressed a song “For Martha” at the back end of 1998’s
criminally underrated (says me) Adore,
which many (read, me and my friend John) hoped would kick off a long and
exciting string of sets closed with said song, replacing the
still-always-appreciated “Silverfuck” as the encore. Who knows if that ever
happened. What I do know is that Billy Corgan has nothing in common with the
mantra, “Just being, without striving. A place of stillness.” Matthew Barlow,
releaser of cassettes and sampler of nature, has stated this as his theme for Hatha, his tranquil new tape for Inner
Islands. Matthew has dedicated this tape “For Martha,” and thus a tenuous
connection was conceived. Matthew’s Martha is likely not the same as Billy’s
Martha, the fact snapping the narrative thread like a rubber band stretched
waaaay beyond its safe point of stretching. See, Matthew and Billy have nothing
in common, and I think we’d like to keep it that way – while Matthew points us
all toward a path of personal betterment, Billy’s mouth fills up like the
toilet it is and spills over onto public consciousness, sowing toxicity
wherever he appears. I’d rhetorically ask whatever happened to poor ol’ Billy,
but we all know he’s always been a douchebag, good records notwithstanding.
That’s why I’m gonna follow Matthew on this one.
And as soon as I do, I’m halted by the trance of Hatha. Two sides, one “Sun,” the other “Moon,” each manifesting
fifteen minutes of that time of day in the form of sheer musical gorgeosity.
“Sun” features samples of birds twittering away, while “Moon” casts the
nighttime crickets and frogs as its main players. Barlow adds sparse synth
texture, but his true element is the flute, which he plays longingly over the
tracks’ foundation. It’s haunting and otherworldly, yet familiar, a reminder of
the Earth itself (minus the humans) and the passage of time. It’s about “just
being, without striving,” and as a “place of stillness” it succeeds
magnificently. It’s new New Age, and Hatha’s
ambient heart beats slowly and methodically, gradually revealing the secrets of
your current moment. All you gotta do is let it work its magic, and you’ll be
transported somewhere else entirely. And while it’s likely the kind of music
that would play in the background of high-end tea houses everywhere (looking at
you again, Billy), it needs its space, to be out in the open and breathing in
and out. That’s right, this tape is a living thing – hook it up to an EKG
machine at your local hospital and see if you don’t get a pulse. Then run as
fast as you can, because they need those EKG machines for much more important
matters.
--Ryan Masteller