Trying to describe the album in all its apparently glory is a truly impossible feat, and to be honest, I’m not ever going to really attempt it. Instead, I’m simply going to strongly urge everyone who ever stumbles upon the work on Antonymes to dive headfirst into his work, because with ‘(For Now We See) Through A Glass Dimly’ there is no way you could ever be disappointed. 9/10
The fourth record under the alias Antonymes , Ian M. Hazeldine opens its exciting environment to a neo-classicism orchestral sharing dimension that belies the cliché solitaire similar artistic proposals.
The title of Ian Hazeldine’s latest Antonymes opus obviously calls to mind two things in particular: Ingmar Bergman’s 1961 film Through a Glass Darkly, whose title is itself drawn from the Biblical passage “For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known” (1 Corinthians 13). No one, however, needs to obsess too much over the title and its associated meanings when the album’s fifty minutes of music already prove so captivating in their own right.
So skinned and boned and rejoined the Sea Otter Classic Cottage, The Wooden Heart , like Ireland, sublime novelty, is a unique moment, a moment of truth shining and pure beauty. The point of a season in levitation. A majestic and capitalized performance. A confirmation. A dawn full of promises. Magic.
It is just half a year ago, Todd Tobias first solo record here fell to the mat. The musician I at that time is mainly known as a producer of quite a few plates of lo-fi pioneers Guided By Voices and solo albums by Guided By Voices frontman Robert Pollard, made after a long period of habituation impressed with the totally elusive Impossible Cities.
Todd Tobias isn’t new to SRM, I have very fond memories of listening to his Calvino-inspired album, Impossible Cities. Therefore, I entered listening to this album with some rather high expectations, which I am glad to report were not dashed in the slightest. The long, winding songs are all sublimely amorphous soundscapes. It is astounding how much weight is packed into every one of them despite their relatively sparse composition. It causes a transformative affect to occur in the diligent listener, altering mundane happenings into something absolutely poetic. For my second listen I sat on my balcony on a cloudy morning, watching birds peck around for food. With the help of Tobias’s music, it was pretty damn epic.
