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Jóhann Jóhannsson has made a film, a collage of super 8 footage of his Antarctic travels. The film is accompanied by an ethereal, suitably icy soundtrack by Jóhann himself, working with wonderful cellist Hildur Gudna∂óttir and Robert Aiki Aubrey Low. This CD+DVD set of End of Summer gives you both sides of the project. On Sonic Pieces.
CD £24.99 PATTERN 002CD
CD soundtrack + DVD film set in laser cut wallet on Sonic Pieces - 2nd Edition.
LP £16.99 PATTERN 002LP
Limited SILVER vinyl LP on Sonic Pieces in laser cut cardboard packaging.
LP £14.99 PATTERN 002LP
Limited LP on Sonic Pieces in laser cut cardboard packaging.
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- End of Summer by Jóhann Jóhannsson with Hildur Guðnadóttir & Robert Aiki Aubrey Lowe
1 review. Write a review for us »
Jóhann Jóhannsson jumps the gun by declaring summer dead, which is kinda a bummer because I was looking forward to it. Fine, though: maybe he knows something we don’t, and he did go to the Antarctic for this, so I imagine he feels the -- ahem -- polar opposite of summer. [At this point Robin was escorted out of the building and submitted the rest of the review in a public apology.]
The Super 8 film Jóhannsson captured for his time down (up?) there comes with a gorgeous droning score, because what the fuck else, courtesy of himself and abstract friends Hildur Guðnadóttir / Robert Aiki Aubrey Lowe. As some of your favourite ambient music is probably wont to do, this record sounds both still and fragile, like these meticulous and calm pieces could fall apart on queue.
They don’t, though. The first one creaks with slowly bowed cello and crackingly quiet vocals, resulting in a sound that makes the landscape sound something human: much like Julianna Barwick’s attempts to bring Iceland to life with ‘Nepenthe’, this record brings about Antarctica in all frozen hues. The second highlights a particular cello figure on its own before letting further strings placate it, going back and forth like Stars of the Lid snoring into their compositions. The hums that open the record’s third number eventually develop into wordless, fractured, glitching harmonies, much like Ian William Craig if someone had confiscated his tape loops -- the piece eventually bursts into droning noise, making the connection crystal clear.
So yeah: I’ve compared this record to some ambient heavyweights, talked about how pretty it is, made a bad pun. I feel that may be a wrap. Lovely fucking stuff.
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