Oh boy, is this one absolutely beautiful record. The UK's Rameses III, who we've raved
about in the past (and whose previous releases are now all sadly unavailable) team up
with Digitalis head honcho Brad Rose aka The North Sea, for a total dream drenched blissout.
There's nothing really ominous or dark or creepy about this at all. Instead this is warm
and thick and so so pretty. Long lazy drifts of muted melody float weightless beneath soft
cotton candy clouds of gauzy ambience, fingerpicked guitars surface here and there, just long
enough to release a few notes, melodic fragments that just hover in the air before gently
settling and drifting away, floating lazily like leaves in a mountain stream. Elsewhere,
slow swells of chordal shimmer are woven into fuzzy soundscapes, while strings swoon over
the top of everything, just another subtly sweet layer in a truly divine sonic tapestry.
So totally gorgeous. Packaged in a beautiful Touch-like digipak, a single flowered field
on one side, a lone dandelion clock, most of it's puffy white seeds lost to the wind.
Pam says: "Sounds like a dying UFO".