Comes like every Kashual Plastik release in a weird packaging.
Laure Boer is Kashual again. And not so Plastik. Zoning dark-ish into her inner realms of journey music. Poetic, psychic, reflective, ejective. She sings. Weeps. Speaks. Intimate looping narratives, celebrating personal glories and all those worries. Stylistically alternating from electroacoustic dimensions to drone guitar amp personas, from folk melodiousness to witchy avant-notes. Ten drifters for the Lomaxed creatures, earthbound, and always up there in the luminaries. Music that rubs off on the now, that loses itself in itself, always remaining welcoming. Contemporary folk for folks without country. Echoing endlessly scenic. Longing for roots minus rooting. The voice is the home. In every noise. In every chord, loop, reverberation. A humming along record. Shredded. Edgy. With a sense for radical pain. Noisy anthems in the sky. Traditional, freshly packaged, and forward-thinking folkloric. A true album of soul. Composed. Improvised. Realized. A poem without ink. Dim times. The sun shines. We hum along to “Les Cités Englouties”, transporting echoes from sunken cities and their legends. Archaic ballads, dialoging with raconteurs from centuries past, broadcasting archetypal tales, and airy mythology of the living that fall into life. All transmitted in a meaningful sphere - even if neither the sender nor the receiver can articulate, what that meaning might be.