Kara-Lis Coverdale has a CV as confounding as it is impressive. For many years, the classically trained pianist and composer split her time between soundtracking local church sermons in Montreal and performing in international concert halls. Meanwhile, she became entrenched in the electronic music world, joining forces with producers such as Tim Hecker, Actress and Caribou. As such, her music is hard to pin down, slinking somewhere between modern classical and electronic, with shades of jazz and new age, too. But for all its dimensions, nor is the Montreal-based musician’s sound particularly challenging: her new album – her first in eight years – is a gentle listen, made up of short, dreamy compositions that are light and quietly ecstatic.
Despite the modest track lengths – 2017’s Grafts was made up of three extended parts – From Where You Came is an exercise in spaciousness. Built from strings, brass, keys, synthesisers and wind instruments, the arrangements are slow and sparse, with each song sighing softly to a close. It’s exciting, then, when a stirring motif comes in – something Coverdale is really good at. On standout Flickers in the Air at Night, a spritely melody bubbles through a wash of atmospheric synths and strings; Daze perfectly captures a feeling of sweet melancholy in its gorgeous Balearic-ready woodwind trills. Offload Flip, the most straight-up electronic track on the record, takes things a little deeper with its distorted, metallic drum loop that occasionally strays off beat.
It’s less convincing on Eternity, in which Coverdale drafts in her own voice. Though her grave vocals match the gloomy, almost eerie, quality of the composition, the lyrics are more corny than evocative: “I’m sorry life is beautiful.” Still, it does little to detract from the world Coverdale has built, one that’s focused and full of feeling.
Also out this month
After a string of collaborative releases, the California-based composer and electroacoustic saxophonist Cole Pulice returns with their first solo album in three years. Land’s End Eternal (Leaving Records) is a warm amble through floaty ambient textures and silky sax lines, wrapped up with a shimmering nine-minute closer. Another masterclass in epic slow-burners is Pleroma (Prah), the new EP from the London-based live electronics duo Uh, who sound like Laurie Anderson for the club. Across four extended tracks, they drift from futuristic breaks to sparkling synth pop, tied together by Fionnuala Kennedy’s sometimes cutesy, sometimes strange pitched vocals. More club-not-club material comes via Tears Maker Chant (Ransom Note), the latest EP from French duo Froid Dub. As their name suggests, the record is filled with steely, low-slung dub rhythms, where glacial synths and smoky vocals weave in and around shuddering bass. A fitting soundtrack for late-night lurking.
