After
three years of multiple revisions and complete deletions, 'Slow
Circles' was engendered as much by the music that adheres to it than by
what does not. Meaning at this point in the history of recorded music –
where any- and everything can be and is available – what you leave out
and avoid is just as critical as what few things remain. Still, there
is much to be heard by Aquarelle (the aural moniker of Ryan Potts) on
'Slow Circles.' Tempered with static and distortion, the five extended
tracks hold an illusion of stasis sourced from dozens of layers of
acoustic, electric, and electronic instruments. Filtered loops overlap
and repeat, erecting a pattern that links pure minimalism to an oblique
and layered pop approach that unfurls with acoustic guitar, bells, and
bits of percussion.
Aquarelle's influences are teeming – and include various forms of photography, films by Terrence Malick, and the presence of family – but perhaps nothing inspires more than the ardor for sound itself, from hissing electronic abstraction to four-part vocal harmonies. 'Slow Circles' is his first widely available album after a handful of limited run CDR releases.
A debut is often a lesson in getting lost in the things you love.
It is no surprise that some songs from Northern Howl's first full-length
arrive with the melodic ease of the Shins, others in the shape of vintage
Zombies tracks, a few with the orchestral scope of Sufjan Stevens. But
each moment from 'All That's Under the Night's Sky' carries the exuberance
of seven young people brimming with creativity and enthusiasm for music
and the world surrounding them. A palpable atmosphere of rustic Minnesota
is threaded through 'All That's Under the Night's Sky' - clinging to lyrics,
sounds, and instruments Northern Howl employ to create their distinct brand
of folk-derived pop. Aided by producer Kenyon Rosewall (The Wars of 1812),
'Night's Sky' contains an instrumental depth and prowess that outstrips their
young age, naturally raising words like earnest, anthemic, and vibrant to
relevance.
Yet, it is hard to say that Northern Howl set out to sound like such adjectives or approximate the above bands. Instead they chose to make sense of the world on their own terms, in turn locating influences in the adoration of everyday objects: the canvas of a tent, the faded sepia of old photographs, road trips with good friends, and large fauna distinct to their home state.