Galatea's Guitar opens this jazz crossover album with a smooth and cultured style which cruises over purely delicious drumming with muffled shaking and tripping frills that wash the oddly inspiring melodic franticness with glamour. Noted peculiarities force the track into a torrential pouring of sound until as the clouds are blown slowly to one side, merely peace remains.
Summery gallops over human child-steps give rise to sunny clearness in playful films of mottled colour. Bouncing violins creep in to simply garnish the sweet nostalgia for a previous life we could never have experienced with our own eyes. Half the Day is Night being this number of distant love for something not quite real. Or was it?
Improvisation required an element of rehearsal merely for form in itself, yet the creative energy present in the guitar work portrays a sense of complete virginity, in a few places at least. Darker tones bring forward the mood of Song of Injured Love, the heaviness of heart being a true and real inspiration to many an artist, this desperate sadness carries a quality which translates well into many formats of expression.
Guitar on Vinyl combinations tend to lend their ebbs to the minor key more so than others, however within a few glum moments, the sunshine of tomorrow washes over the blanket of sadness like snowflakes falling upon dried autumn leaves in July. We must be in the Southern hemisphere, although this of course is an Hungarian album, the image has to fit. Freedom of thought continues the sonic delivery into oblivion and the heart in question requires mention no more.
Some traditional sounding playing forms the opening of the next track, melodies formed out of triads and scales from another part of the world than what we are maybe used to, an interesting combination of energies weave exquisite percussive guitar. Stitched into the booming pulsations of cinematic thrills, dragged along by mirrored melodies and alterations in tempo, everything collapses into self until Fire Dancer.
Lady in the Moon and Ferris Wheel close the album down with a jazz boost which gives the fans of Szabo what they ask for, however their polarity of flow is notable. Where as Lady appeals to the energy and excitement which carries music into the airy lofts of expensive backstreets, the latter prevails in the opposite direction. Maybe something for a street corner, on a February dinner time, music cases open and willing to receive any spare change that may fall inside.
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