The impressionistic artwork that adorns the cover says it all: a being, stitched together from the bones, blood and sinew of many things. The semblance of something recognizable, but also out of joint. Dark and disturbing, but backed by a pastoral beauty. Art is subjective, and whether I’m looking at the image painted by Cedric Wentworth or listening to Salt, the debut from Khôrada, I’m left with the same impression, of recognizing frameworks and influences even as the whole defies easy categorization. In other words, the best kind of music to my ears. Continue reading
Nine Circles 