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Six Weeks Were Too Long To Wait is the debut album from American, David Gutman, released under the wonderfully named, Drawing Virtual Gardens. The album was recorded while waiting for his wife to give birth and the subsequent weeks his baby was kept at the hospital. It is tense, sprawling ambiance which sways toward industrial music but is always vulnerable and ultimately delicate.

Available as a deluxe version limited to 70 copies with loads of extra goodies or the standard version of 150 copies.

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  • CD £29.99
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  • TRS052
  • TRS052 / Limited deluxe art edition CD on Time Released Sound in unique, bespoke handmade package. Edition of 70 copies

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  • CD £10.49
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  • TRS052
  • TRS052 / Limited digipak CD on Time Released Sound. Edition of 150 copies

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REVIEWS

Six Weeks Were Too Long To Wait by Drawing Virtual Gardens
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8/10 Robin Staff review, 08 April 2015

An ode to time-stamped tension, David Gutman composed and recorded ‘Six Weeks Were Too Long To Wait’ in the build-up to his daughter’s birth, as well as the subsequent time waiting for her to be released from the hospital. It’s a sweet title, but what the music betrays is a feeling of unease, a pining for a loved one who has yet to arrive in your life. This music can be melodic and adoring, but it’s mostly the sound of fear -- constant, ambivalent ambience punctured by pockets of grainy noise and hissing industrial decay.

Gutman has replicated the joylessness of waiting, with sounds unstructured and meandering that only occasionally achieve the kind of clarity you can find in a helpless space. On “No Supporter Will Stop Us", echoing guitar chords reach out in the dark, beaming a light on an album that continues into its shimmering, foggy drone. “You Scream, I Laugh" offers minute piano details that are amplified loudly through a room of impressive, extensive acoustics, the sound impossible to grasp and heartbreakingly searching. 

Gutman produces tension through his use of percussion -- take the drops and momentary chimes of “Build Up Fat" -- but he rarely alleviates it. The sounds he collates, such as the hard-plucked bass of the same song and the receding synth, would be tender in a different soundscape. Here, they're impatient, afraid of being trapped in this timeframe forever. The worst is, I hope, behind our hero; the humane found sounds of “Breath Synopsis” are the last gasps before catharsis.


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