. issue XV : ii .

by barathron

. artist : the diamond center .
. album : caraway / 20twin .
. year : 2011 .
. label : self-released .
. grade : o .

Caraway

The Diamond Center (Kyle Harris, Brandi Price, Guest Stars, Featuring, &) gets some wicked press in my brain, wood block prints inky and words mouthed (those lip forms, for stats, are: pursed tongue through teeth [for the], vertical horizontal spreads followed by pursed smoke ring vowel closing non visual glottal stop tongue click [for diamond], the toothy hiss air kiss smile following [for center]). Search engines sputter pages up for reviewing Richmonders exalting and documenting connection, and some solid line-up at larger events in denser downtown populations. Press photos and prose from years (& releases) ago scribe a healthy output history in halo’d hallways of online crochet/quet hooks for the group; The Diamond Center has always been sparkling and shimmering in any setting, stone root rock solid carating a healthy vegetable cut in fashionable forsythia facets (CONNOR SEZS: It’s a canary diamond, not topaz knockoff). This canary in the tobacco mines, now lofting out as bricks, chipper engraving in red clay now dust, smoke signals and shapes in the shavings as well as the making marked. Make no mistake of steam, sand or stone, these natural hot springs line natural wonders organically evolved to commune with your rows and patches, producing a spirit animal soundtrack fortified against any of the elements at any point and antipode.

(CONNOR SEZS: Granted, the 3030 drops to Charlottesville this weekend as a far better basis beat to bounce on breakdown Washington, district Columbia. And here at corporate institutional bank of time and the joke that the news was owned by not Apple but the soft cell machine gates keeper, oh, David Cross as MC Paul Barman. Oh, oh, oh, it’s magic a gathering house of cards to shelter from such a storm of settled financial security suicide and proud falling on a sword, keep on turn, rolling down a river with a paddleboat hoisted hangman and our leaders as menagerie. Do not tap on the glass. Frosted great googly moogley.)

The single “California/ Bells” was my first experience with these wide spacious sounds, and seems to be the most recent release (CONNOR SEZS: Maybe, prolly, I think, I dunno, not?). These echo valleys give a western sense of space in the big sky Elysium. In these purple mountain majesty stallions herd buffalo through the Mississippi River. There doesn’t seem to be an ending in the fruited plain, swooping orchards vista, on the right a joshua segura while the left is prairie heart grass and corn weed, roasting the beef bonfire of this. Support of the music lands to ethereal vocal prowl cumulo nimbus flotilla full grey sweeping sea, crowning good dilation of the day into direct diffused ultra violets. When one riff has melted in, bass or percussion line fits nicely and creates a gorgeous finality, the groove of another guitar lick or spitting snare blades portrait and frames around.

(CONNOR SEZS: I just want to get this out here, I predict above average snowfall nationwide this winter. Be safe out there, be good.)

Continuing to this release of a- and b-side: “Caraway,” spell named for the seed, seems instead to be casting the life of cares-away etymology. The music video, featuring Richmond’s party in the park ‘magery, follows the interior house party of a gothic Oregon Hill Overlook exterior shot into James River park leafless skeletal trees. The haunted tea scenes and fanning angular shadows explode to backward looped ice breakers, refreezing cold rose cracks into smooth seamless surface without showing the offending projectile. Belle Isle location backshots enrobe dust velvety horror story ritual in the heavy silent film shading, beautiful contrasts of splinter sharp realism, and a nameless void; when interpretation requires personal input, you can’t help witnessing sinister snippets, abyss echo the dominant characteristic.

These images continue fine with “20Twin” and the west coast calamity jane horseback ride a nice contrast: this video from three years ago forms to Ipanema in grand concept. The bliss builds and swells into currents of emotion (CONNOR SEZS: emotion lotion! I’m a superstar in a superstar machine taking it to the stars!) and displaces the earth, grain of sand by grain, gene by gene, as the tide caresses weeping floors, under pressure, into swirl cosine graph trenched gradients. Seasonal shifts show seismic slouching in this time machine window rubbernecking the vista of what lies beneath with the deep and wide. The oceanic depth and creation of the material put out as far as humanity is concerned is the world ocean itself: something that cannot be segmented or named by one word, but rather holds all identities; an exception of identification by ubiquitous universal membership.

Under the time lapse photography the water hollows out the earth, wearing down the rock and moving it to tinier pieces eroding down, scattering these pebbles of worn material into smaller and smaller motes of life. The pollen count bursts anew while the US government shutdown makes me proud to see the greatest country. In the world. In the ocean.

The Diamond Center is your water element Dalai Lama. Grab on. The world moves some mysterious waves; the current keeps inertia at bay sucking at the shore. The sound of the surf and the wash of the crash never ends; enjoy this nice weekend holiday music of melody memory prize.

by Perkus Tooth

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