Présence fantômatique (come play with me) parfum d'une enfance distante, à nouveau cette image fugace qui se dématérialise inexorablement, coup de semonce. La réalité, consciente ou pas, veille, suspendue à un fil, toujours prêt à se rompre, un suspence parasitaire accroché au monitoring d'un écran (coming down) - Si, enfin, Aural Nihil se referme sur des nécessaires cornes de brume (instrument de signalisation maritime), elles n'en sont que le témoignage et constat d'un naufrage ajourné, la rédemption de voyageurs, au sortir d'une étrange histoire, la nôtre - Une pièce maîtresse !
thierry massard for nocovision / 13 juin 2022 - 11:04
The purple and boreal glows of Nina Sarantari indicate it, we begin a game of shadow and light. Aural Nihil is still however an enigma, a sequence shot, almost cinematographic, a troubled game, a new stage for Emmanuele Gattuso, who, let us remember, had dazzled us, last year, with the incandescences of "Flashlight".
Unfortunate travellers, don't wait for the keys, we already warned you, Gattuso doesn't care about the bloody rules of this murky game, sometimes so reassuring for some and for you, maybe, who knows.
Aural Nihil can be heard like a story being written, a strange scenario, combinatorial, singular images and familiar impressions, a flush nostalgia for lost happiness, paradoxically daily and present, the fruits of a before, remnants of memory.
Aural Nihil is, we claim, a very singular work, a supple and jazzy race, unbridled (dreamchaser) which, soon, breaks in echo (bloom/obey) against the walls of a no man's land / graceful and atmospheric succession / a magnificent melodic writing which methodically refuses, start, voluntary emptiness of destination. If the rhythm seems to defragment (black cherry chapstick) it is because the opacity is gradually omnipresent, a haze lit by a halo (gum keys) reluctant to reveal an emotional clandestinity / sprawling industrial reminiscences (burn it all down), quickly suppressed (sweeling ground) because our mind is also wandering.
Ghostly presence (come play with me) scent of a distant childhood, again this fleeting image that inexorably dematerializes, a warning shot. Reality, conscious or not, watches, hanging by a thread, always ready to break, a parasitic suspense clinging to the monitoring of a screen (coming down) - If, finally, Aural Nihil closes on the necessary fog horns, they are only the testimony and observation of a postponed shipwreck, the redemption of travelers, at the end of a strange story, ours - Une pièce maîtresse !
⚫️ Aural Nihil⚫️ Emmanuele Gattuso / linktr.ee