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.
https://distantbloom.bandcamp.com/
--Ryan