In some version of the serenity prayer, man finds a deeper acceptance in realizing that he can’t possibly listen to all the records in the world. Especially Polish experimental drone-folk 10″ records with music on only one side. Consider yourself covered on this one though.
This self-titled single from Stara Rzeka (multi-instrumentalist Kuba Ziolek, also of Ed Wood, Innercity Ensemble, Alameda Trio, etc) is one of the more beautiful recordings I have heard in weeks and perhaps one of the more mystical sound creations I have heard all year. Do yourself the equivalent of pouring yourself a hot black tea, putting on a really soft wool sweater and stepping out into a warm March morning snowfall (the kind of snow that packs into instant snowballs) by clicking on the magic play button below.
From the shadows of radioactive static emerges a fine of ribbon of rich resplendent folk. Bright ultra-mic’d finger-picked guitar, droning cello (probably electronic, but with a life-like bow feel) and a hovering field of synthetic crickets (and other electronic wild-life perched in the trees) creates the essential backdrop for the milky foreign-tongued ballad. After five-minutes of establishing a meditative and haunting melody, the track dissolves into it’s second half–an extra-dimensional, time-expanding portal of electronic cacophony.
In what feels like a sudden monsoon, the sound beats against the banana leaves with a furious drill of rhythms-within-rhythms; giving rise to emotions-within-emotions–like fear, amazement, sense of smallness, great equanimity. Your mind could get taken. For a moment. So who is this Stara Rzeka person and where has he been stashing these songs?