Richard Anthony Jay - This Is What I Live For (Burning Petals)

This beautiful release may be Richard Anthony Jay's debut album but he is not some fresh, precocious new talent that's popped up out of nowhere. Richard has been working in the music industry for 20 of his 37 years. He's worked as a studio engineer in London, arranged pop songs for a variety of artists, and written music for advertising and TV. After a lifelong love-hate relationship with the business, he finally decided to strike out on his own. Richard tends to get lumped together with people like Max Richter and Ólafur Arnalds under the "neo-classical" label and he is obviously trying quite consciously to position himself in that camp. But the fact is that he stands quite apart from them. Although he cites Dead Can Dance, the Cocteau Twins and Michael Nyman as major influences, Richard's music is unabashedly classical. I mean straight-ahead, old-school classical. Like they used to write in Vienna 300 years ago. OK, maybe not quite, but almost. You could mistake some of the music here for chamber music pieces by one of the grand masters of the romantic era. Many of the recent crop of modern classical composers, including Richter and Arnalds, have successfully mixed genres, i.e. crossed classical with electronic or ambient music. And their music tends to be relatively minimal compared to the old classics. If that's what you're expecting when you put this album on, you might initially be put off. There's not a single glitch, synth pad, stab of white noise or field recording to be found. Just warm, clear and untreated strings and piano, and beautiful romantic music. About as far as Richard goes outside these bounds is to add a splash of reverb here and there to provide a bit of ambiance. But even this is done with great discretion. I saw a tweet from Ólafur Arnalds the other day saying that he was about to record some Rhodes parts for his new album. That's just something that seems so alien to the world of This Is What I Live For. In the Beginning sets the tone for the album with a full and emotive string section laying the foundation for a passionate solo violin passage, with the piano joining in to bolster the bottom end. Members of the Hallé, Britain's longest-established professional orchestra, are featured on almost every track, bringing the compositions to life. While the romantic style may initially put you on the defensive, if you put aside your preconceptions and give this music a second chance, it'll draw you into its warm embrace. You have to just decide to let go and enjoy the feast that's set before you. Pieces like 25th March 1996 and Fragile are simply gorgeous and you have to be a Grinch not to be touched by them. Frankly, it's a surprise that Richard Anthony Jay waited this long to let the rest of us in on his secret. But This Is What I Live For is notable for its maturity and grace so maybe he picked just the right time.

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This Is What I Live For is released by Burning Petals Records. This is the label's initial release, promising to deliver more sounds that "live in the space between downtempo electronica and ambient classical". The above text is written and contributed by Tigon.

myspace.com/richardanthonyjay | richardanthonyjay.com
myspace.com/burningpetalsrecords | burning-petals.com

Hildur Guðnadóttir - Without Sinking (Touch)

It is dark, dense, and brooding. The sky is gray. Winter is refusing to leave. Wind becomes the rhythm; dissonance - the melody. In the delicate hands of the Berlin-based (but Icelandic by birth) Hildur Guðnadóttir, the cello whispers and moans. Perhaps it's grieving for an uncertain future, perhaps accepting a buried past. The voice of sorrow seeps through the trembling fingers and saturates everything around it with something invisible, but wet and salty. Then, a heavy, thick and warm knot builds up inside my chest. And when I sigh, it escapes in a condensed vapor, ascends past the naked tree tops and joins a dark cloud in a stubborn winter sky. Finally the rain falls. And I cringe at all the pain. Hildur Guðnadóttir is not a newcomer to the scene. As a classically trained cellist, she has previously performed with and contributed to works by her Icelandic contemporary artists such as múm, Valgeir Sigurðsson, and Ben Frost, as well as Hafler Trio, Nico Muhly, and even Pan Sonic. For Without Sinking she was able to round up a talented group of friends, like Skúli Sverrisson, the prolific Jóhann Jóhannsson, and her father, Guðni Franzson. Dropping all of the above names should give you a brief idea of the circle that Guðnadóttir revolves in. I guess it's not surprising, since she is an active member in the neu-Iceland collective, Kitchen Motors. This is _the_ Reykjavík music scene think tank, owned and operated by Jóhann Jóhannsson, Kira Kira, and Hilmar Jensson. Without any exaggerations, this is indeed an acoustic modern classical marvel. Absolutely a must for this year! Add Without Sinking and Guðnadóttir's previous works to your collection. The debut album Mount A (12 Tónar, 2006) was originally released under the moniker Lost in the Hildurness. Her recent one-track complimentary release to the album, Iridescence (Touch, 2009), is only available as a digital download, as part of a new series of digital singles launched by Touch on April 1st. On May 16th, 2009, Hildur Guðnadóttir is scheduled to perform for Short Circuit, A Festival of Electronica, during a Touch showcase along with BJ Nilsen, Philip Jeck and the Gavin Bryars Ensemble, and [back on the road!] Biosphere!!! If you're anywhere around The Roundhouse in London, please go... For me...

myspace.com/hildurness | hildurness.com
touchmusic.org.uk