I had a conversation with someone recently that touched on that well-worn topic of Music These Days, Hey?
To cut a long story short (these kinds of conversations are always long, especially when they take place in a pub), we came to the conclusion that we’re entering the most thrilling period in music creation in memory.
This entirely spurious claim was based on the rise of technology that has finally allowed the people who always wanted to create music – but never had the time, money or nerve – to actually make it.
A whole section of society can now simply flip open a laptop and make and distribute music at will. Of course, this does result in a lot more chaff than wheat, but if listening to a hundred generic Dubstep-lite songs is the price for gaining artists of Carnivals’ quality, it’s a price I’m prepared to pay.
Carnivals – or ‘Stewart’ to his mother – makes music that doubles back on itself greedily for inspiration; resonant, burbling and alive.
Plug into I Can See, and feel the devilishly intricate and beautifully serene snippets and loops course through your veins. Time and sound become elastic and ductile as a patchwork of soft sound delivers, single-mindedly, one man’s obtuse musical vision.
See if, like I did, you rub your eyes with disbelief when the time counter shows that the song has played for a mere three minutes, after what feels like a lifetime. See if you can resist playing it again as soon as it finishes, the song’s absence creating a stifling silence.
Endlessly soothing, creepily off-kilter and buoyant with warmth, Carnivals music could be the soundtrack to a lifetime of deliriously lovely moments, and is indicative of a thrilling new creative age. Let it in.