AZALEAS “Colorspace” C34 (Distant Bloom)


We now know Azaleas and Distant Bloom quite well, don’t we? We can anticipate what will emanate from our speakers and into our dining rooms and worksheds, our terrariums and yoga domes. I don’t know where you happen to listen to your melancholy ambient music in your own abode, nor do I presume to tell you how to do your thing or live your life. I will offer one piece of advice though: try to listen to Colorspace, the new Azaleas jammer, on a good set of speakers in a room that reverberates out to infinity. Maybe a glass-enclosed one with a swimming pool.
But Colorspace is so introspective that the smaller the space you’re in, the better you may be. The Azaleas trio – Alice Andres, Kat Andres, and Kyle Wade – make music like they’re breathing, each constant huff of vaporous tone a full-body hit of natural wonder. The synthesizers sparkle and twinkle like sunlight on a lake, the entire tableau distilled into the sonic equivalent of vivid wonder. But of course there are storm clouds on the horizon – when are there not? – and an existential danger lurks. But it’s out of reach, out of time, and Azaleas can only harness what they themselves can control. This they offer back to us as peaceful visions, New Age meditations on the Midwestern wind, dispersing into the atmosphere. Floating somewhere out there over us and gently coming to rest within our bodies.