Album: Shoreline Inertia
Artist: Hiemal
Label: Self-released
Catalogue no: N/A
Tracklist:
1. Shoreline
Inertia
I have always been
fascinated by edgelands and margins, those liminal transition zones and
dimensions which are neither one nor the other, yet simultaneously both. As an
example I can cite the very outer margins of a town or city, where built-up
areas give way to the rural. Where is the exact point at which one becomes the
other? Is there a thin sliver where it’s neither, or a combination of both? Seen
in the abstract, even the present moment we live in is a kind of liminality, as
it exists briefly between the past and the future. Hiemal’s latest release is
focused on another such zone, the thin stretch that divides the land from the
sea. It has its parallel perhaps in the diffuse zone between atmosphere and the
vacuum of outer space, at least in one obvious respect; one side is essential
to our well-being, the other side completely inimical to it without artificial
aids. However in both instances there’s an indefinable transition zone where it
could be argued that the qualities of both sides are intermixed, a rarefied
belt of some intangible existence where the normal rules don’t apply.
Where does Hiemal fit
into all this, you may wonder? Shoreline
Inertia focuses on that very liminal space betwixt land and sea, that tiny
sliver of geology that is both real and imaginary. The single album-length
composition, lasting a little over an hour, is essentially an experimental
ambient piece, consisting of ever-evolving drones set against a backdrop of
waves lapping a shoreline. The waves do duty in anchoring us to reality while
defining the zone’s limits and the exact point where the transition between one
state and the other is at its most intertwined: the soaring orchestral vibes
connect us with the latent possibilities suggested by the existence of the
marginal space. When you really think about it, this is the very point at which
land-based life came to be, where the first sea-creatures evolved into
air-breathing animals. If for no other reason than that, the notion that it
isn’t a magical place can be dismissed.
The soaring drones are
like a billowing curtain of glimmering auroral light, a barrier hanging at the
exact intersection between here and there. It’s a demarcation, a wall of
flimsy, fluttering gauze that nevertheless sends a strong message declaring
that ‘beyond this point everything is different’. It is at once a physical and
spiritual boundary, a signal saying, yes you can pass through, but its deeper
mysteries and secrets will be forever beyond your reach. It is vital and alive,
animated by processes and biological systems alien to anything we would be
familiar with. The waters on its other side contain a dimension of myth and
fantasy embedded within it (‘Here be monsters’), a globe-spanning liquid inner
space as unknown to us as the furthest galaxy, and yet the extent of its
virility and potency is prodigious.
This is the species of
music for those times when you catch yourself between moments, when you’re on
the verge of some revelation, or more prosaically when you seek some lilting
sounds to accompany your meditations/guided visions/occult practises. It’s
soothing, of course, plunging you into the womblike waters of Mother Earth, or
perhaps lofting you into the rarefied region of the exosphere, but that I think
is its ultimate purpose. It’s warm here, nurturing, and comforting, invoking
ancestral memories perhaps of our prehistoric point of origin in the long ago
aeons of the past. I suggest that you let yourself float along with whatever
currents it sends you along, embrace the power inherent in those streams, and
let its deep wisdom wash over you. There’s plenty to discover here, on both the
inner and outer levels.
Available as a digital
download at the link below:
Psymon Marshall 2019.
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