Sangam is all environment. The veteran artist pops
up again on Doom Trip, and it’s a nocturnal affair – this release is called The Night After, after all. Sure, you’re
bound to get gloomy when you’re in the business of soundtracking late-night
contemplations and ruminations and regrets. But in the midst of all that
self-reflection, all that soul-searching, the odds that you’ll find a little
glimmer of hope in there, a little flicker of inspiration, are firmly stacked
in your favor. How can you not extract some inner peace from this? Once you’ve
got that light at the end of the tunnel, all that’s left is for you to create
the environment.
Sangam is all environment.
Like Badalamenti in the rain, Sangam knows how manage
a synthesizer for maximum emotional impact. And yeah, while The Night After is certainly quite sad,
the somber approach to worldbuilding yields some tremendously honest and
insightful results. All this meditating on one’s life – be it as a whole or specific
pieces, like something that happened, oh I don’t know, the night before maybe –
allows us to fix our gaze inward in a search for tranquility that may not be
outwardly evident. Sangam gets in the head of anyone who feels that the only
way forward in their life is to revel in the chaos and use it to propel them
onward into the unknown. It’s exhilarating, sure, but it’s also scary as hell –
The Night After acts as a centering
agent, as an eye in the storm.
With the clouds overhead and the steady drumbeat of
raindrops on your umbrella, you can turn your collar up against the wind,
against anything, really – and Sangam in your headphones gives you a resolve to
keep pushing forward. It’s all about your environment.