Here is a review or more like a narrative commentary of Novemthree's, Renewing.
Mystical acoustic guitars greet the listener as they gain
awareness within that twilight space, the hypnagogic in-between. Gently they
are escorted above a tree covered landscape, flying and free. Entrancing drums
and rattles work to elevate while a melodious layering of vocals and various
other instruments guide the listener, as if a dreamer, back safely to the
ground; inviting them to fall asleep again with the solemn earth, with the
rustling dead leaves. With that, Soil Binds Breath and Bone, for it is on the
breath that the physical meets the spiritual and so too does the dreamer fall back
to sleep.
Sunlight begins to creep into perception, edging on that
ever elusive awakening. Rejuvenating and full of life, this bright, benevolent,
and purifying light washes away confusion and delusion, the mental cob webs
that are cast by the metaphysical boxes of the ever imposing modern man. Now a
trance builds slowly, propelled by a yearning for that which has been lost
during life proceeded by a restless fall into the deep drone of decay, the
Autumnal Procession. Whimsical and enchanting, a flute entices, while drums
steady and vocals crescendo. An increasing sense of awareness comes over the dreamer and with that the knowledge of the impending and unstoppable change
that is coming, the awakening. Through this revelation a dance breaks out, fed
by a respect for the world around and a deep understanding of the death that is always
rapidly approaching; this dance is carried off into yet another dreamscape, by
astonishingly beautiful flute playing.
Death has arrived and with him the knowledge of necessity,
decay, and rebirth. Upon alters rest the bones of time gone by, both of the dreamer’s and those remembered. Sing of Beauty; devastating and empowering,
real and unreal, the song of life. A Long Shadow creeps, with this death and rebirth, come a harmony
of self and depth of personality. A true understanding for that which is not
commonly understood by modern man; grasping of a lost and ancient tongue of
ancestral knowledge, one that speaks of the patterns and the cycles of that
which is natural.
Now awake, The River Splits the Stone. The dreamer is purpose-filled and uplifted by the purity attained from cleansing the ego and growing, by eroding that internal blockage. Now, life peels away one mystery and trades it for yet another but the dreamer is better prepared, knowing it is best to travel light and speak with a kind tongue. Nevertheless the dreamer senses that the truth of reality will always be shrouded in mystery, which even with this new-found sense of self - life will remain still what it was in many ways before but now the dreamer may be comforted by a greater understanding of this life that is lived and the chaos that surrounds it.
Now awake, The River Splits the Stone. The dreamer is purpose-filled and uplifted by the purity attained from cleansing the ego and growing, by eroding that internal blockage. Now, life peels away one mystery and trades it for yet another but the dreamer is better prepared, knowing it is best to travel light and speak with a kind tongue. Nevertheless the dreamer senses that the truth of reality will always be shrouded in mystery, which even with this new-found sense of self - life will remain still what it was in many ways before but now the dreamer may be comforted by a greater understanding of this life that is lived and the chaos that surrounds it.
