Alaskan Tapes - Something Ephemeral

A Closer Listen

Something Ephemeral is a testament to the temporal nature of existence, written in hope that one might appreciate each moment all the more.  The concept, found in the Japanese mono no aware, is brought to fruition by Alaskan Tapes with a patina of grace anchored by an undercurrent of melancholy.

Listen hard to the opening minute, and one may even hear church bells.  As Richard O’Brien so memorably puts it, “time is fleeting.”  But as this music tumbles, one begins to float back into memory and forward into dreams.  Thoughtful guitar passages reverberate, punctuated by music box tones.  The music serves as both time capsule and time machine.  In the gorgeous “The Sound of Swimming Underwater,” the timbre is hazy and occluded, mirroring the title.

None of the tracks are in a hurry, though each passes quickly, like the life of a dandelion.  At 1:23, “Glimpse” is especially brief, its seeds scattered to the wind.  The point, perhaps, is not to hang on too long; to trust that more grace is always on its way.  “When The Earth Yelled Back At Me” reunites Alaskan Tapes with Moshimoss in an extension of last year’s Dustlight / 光の塵 / Afterglow. Solo artists become collaborators; collaborators become friends.  The piano is poignant, the sparse percussion at the end like a gentle nudge.  “Wait” (feat. Andrew Tasselmyer) includes a gentle pulse, perhaps the rhythm of the earth. Soft drones rise and fall like the breath of a gentle, slumbering giant.  Static falls like flurries.  The sudden ending becomes a caution: cherish this time you are in.

“Circle and Back” is noteworthy for the clarity of the guitar, as melodies form from the ether, only to dissipate in “Light Divides,” borne away by the wheels of a steam engine.  Late in the piece, the tape begins to wobble and warp, another reminder that this moment too is passing.  There’s also a message in the artwork, as the torn windows appear to lead to different seasons; one’s favorite is never less than nine months away.  And yet, to hold out for that season is to miss the beauty of the current season.  We feel this most powerfully at the solstice, which is when this album is released. The changing of seasons bears a bittersweet tinge; Alaskan Tapes reminds us that the season as it passes is more beautiful because it is ephemeral, which may help us to appreciate autumn as we surrender the summer to the sea.  (Richard Allen)