A Closer Listen
It is fascinating how the limitations of physical media have an impact on the music it is designed to carry. One of the best examples, although probably apocryphal, is how the Compact Disc was engineered to contain the full duration of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, which (depending on the conductor) can last about 70 minutes. Otherwise, the developers may have stuck with an hour’s duration, and we wouldn’t have artists offering up 74-minute albums with way too much filler. This story, naturally, has been claimed as a myth, but in this instance, we will run the legend.
The uninterrupted playing time of a CD has been a boon for ambient artists, starting with (of course) Brian Eno, who produced the 61-minute Thursday Afternoon back in 1985. While our attention spans may have suffered through over-long pop, metal or hip-hop albums, the opportunity to wallow in atmospheres for an extended period seems beneficial to the audience. However, the resurgence of vinyl in the last few years has provided a fresh challenge for composers; can they create with a format that has a limited duration and needs flipping over after 20 or so minutes? Melaine Dalibert has decided to give it a go on Vermilion Hours and although I’m reviewing the digital version, it sounds like a success in every aspect – I can’t comment on the quality of the vinyl pressing, but I’m not aware of issues with previous LPs in the Mind Travels series.
The first side is a 20-minute version of “Musique pour le lever du jour” which originally saw the light of day as the sole track on Dalibert’s 2018 release on Elsewhere. A piece designed to have no beginning or end, the solo piano work was characterised by thoughtful clusters of notes, full of resonance and reverberation, running for over 61 minutes. That CD had artwork by David Sylvian who is a full collaborator on Vermilion Hours, crafting the shimmering haze of ambience between the piano notes absent in the previous version. Sylvian’s journey from heart-throb pop star (with Japan) to avant-garde explorer is one of the more interesting narratives from the 80s music scene, but his key record is his second solo album Gone To Earth, a double album which had the ‘pop’ songs on record one, and a suite of 10 ambient pieces on record two. Both discs are superb, but the ambient half undoubtedly caused headaches for record executives and “Quiet Life” fans alike. However, it eventually proved to be very influential and set Sylvian on a path towards Vermilion Hours, 40 years later.
“Musique pour le lever du jour” is at once concise, losing two-thirds of the original length, yet it retains its widescreen scope by being longer than most of Dalibert’s other compositions. The result conjures up a vista of infinite sun loungers as the red glow of the morning sun touches the ocean and the beach. Side two’s “Arabesque” is a more languid work, with Sylvian’s electronic contributions conjuring a radiant hum that perfectly complements the piano; this has a more crepuscular feel, as the sun sets and there’s a hint of chill in the summer twilight.
Vermilion Hours is, at its heart, many different things: to some, it will be a fresh interpretation of a favourite Melaine Dalibert piece. For others, it is an indication that David Sylvian is back making music after a quiet few years (and he’s following this with mixing the new Lucretia Dalt album). It’s an album that may find its place as the sun sets at the end of a stressful week, or if we need coaxing back into life on a Sunday – or Monday – morning. A calming yet evocative work, Vermilion Hours sees two artists of different generations work beautifully together. (Jeremy Bye)
Fri Jun 27 00:01:00 GMT 2025