An afternoon in winter, bright and cold. Trees jostle ; their leaves struggle, fall. A wind blows steady or not at all. The park, silent. Small steps of dogs break leaves into dust. The sun rests for a moment on the corner of an apartment building. Shadows circle on green benches. Gears shift in the distance, sounds of a motor stretch and recede.
Picture This turns on the suggestions of scenes and sounds such as these. Across the project’s six songs, Glint composes at the heart of their impressions. In wreaths of diverse field recordings he finds melodies, voices, samples, lithe as they adjoin, always incompletely. Yet, finds is too sturdy a word for an act as fine and intimate as this. For Glint, the music is moreso what flowers, only unevenly, from the singleness of its context. It’s a shade of devotion to the sounds which are the resplendent underlay to our days, the same gossamer to which songs get stuck then unravel.
A suspended lyricism ribbons through these songs, as if the moment of sound from which they form beckons the melodies and samples back to their beginning, to see if they can be otherwise. Ascendant strings halt at their apex ; piano chords cut out ; pop voices remain wisps of their samples. Picture This is not a project that sees Glint interested in evens or the stability of remembrance ; instead, it is one which is curious about fragments of time and their narrativization, the askew and the beautiful. It’s a postcard, joyous and partial.
Liner Notes by Jack Lutsky
Mastered by Jack Callahan
Image Courtesy of John Asiago-Illuminated & Kayemes
