The more eagle-eyed amongst ye lurkers may recall that, earlier this year, this particular Villager took a bit of a break from the more hefty, crushing, and otherwise violent end of the musical spectrum. During this time of relative quietude, one of my close companions was The Dwarf Star Sessions, a solo instrumental avant-garde cosmic exploration. Which should, in retrospect, tell you all you need to know.
One Dr. Greenthumb excels at creating languid improvisational spaces--the kind of musical environ that invites you to nod your head and rest your eyes in a half-aware stupor. This is, in other words, the perfect soundtrack to your half-conscious daydreams. While The Dwarf Star Sessions impressed with it’s uncanny ability to draw me back into the fold of undulating psychedelia, the followup--Celestial Sounds From the Cosmic Ocean--feels like a gradual climb into the astral womb. And this, in the best possible sense.
As before, bright minimalism and lush growth are the hallmarks of the singular guitar. But an emphasis herein on longer tracks feels like a natural progression, as distinctions between lack any real purpose. An increasingly wavering element to the guitar also distinguishes these two releases--maybe I’m imagining it in the midst of blissful mindnumb’dness, but the reverb here presents a passable facsimile of a didgeridoo, at times. It really doesn’t get more spaced out, and for that, I find myself consistently returning to The Heavy Door Band whilst looking to just shut out the hubbub and noise for a little while.
Again, I find it important to point out that while the musical treatises of Dr. Greenthumb aren’t necessary birthed with a sober audience in mind, the relaxing effects are nonetheless quite remarkable. Whilst listening to Celestial Sounds From the Cosmic Ocean, I am, inevitably, happy as a clam. And that, my friends, is irreplaceable.
The Heavy Door Band - Celestial Sounds From the Cosmic Ocean was released May 2019.
Providing thoughtful reviews of music that is heavy, gloomy, and loud enough to wake us from slumber. Written by a groggy-eyed, highfalutin peasantry.