The Caretaker - Libet’s delay
Holy cow, this album is beautiful. The concept, apparently dually inspired by famous boring movie The Shining and memory functions of the elderly, is very simple: odd selections from old 78-RPM records, layered and manipulated to highlight surface noise and other incidental imperfections, among other things. Pitch shifting, delay, a ton of reverb, etc. The result is uncannily like wandering through a ballroom full of ghosts; remembering events at which you were not present.
The whole affair is so monolithic in sound, and so well-chosen and sequenced on top of that, that it’s hard to highlight a single moment—if I could, I’d post all 30-odd minutes—but “Libet’s delay” is my favorite track by a couple inches. There’s something about those opening piano chords stretching out into space, and the suddenly lonely trumpet slurring its way through some half-forgotten melody…it all makes me think of the dreams I used to have as a child, of sitting in the back of a darkened movie theater, the seats flowing down and away from me like stalks of corn out past the vanishing point, the useless screen beyond my field of vision. I don’t remember if there was an exit. It doesn’t matter. In these dreams I was the only living being, stuck in this room, waiting silently for the start of some unknown show I wouldn’t be able to see anyway. An early brush with existential terror. Thanks for the reminder, Caretaker.
by Mark Sanders of Found Music