Languid. Mournful. Contemplative. That’s the National Park Service way, and if
you need a refresher course on what the NPS is capable of, you can check my
utterly nature-obsessed
review of the excellent ’97 Tracer on
PSI LAB. I’m feeling similar feels on Secret
Wind, but there’s a difference. We’re out of the woods here, I think, and
into the spiritual malaise of suburbia. See cover photo above for all the mood
prompting you need before beginning Secret
Wind. Here NPS alternates between Kranky-esque instrumental slowcore and
nocturnal ambience to stunning effect. The evening descends, and National Park
Service descends upon us with it. More a band-esque affair than ’97 Tracer, the tape still moves
deliberately, like if Explosions in the Sky decided to all lay in sleeping bags
in the backyard and stare up at the stars while sort of playing. By the end of
it the drummer and bassist are asleep, the latter still clutching his
plugged-in instrument as it gently feeds back. The breeze blows softly, and
barely anyone is awake to perceive it. It’s our secret.
--Ryan Masteller
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