October 27, 2020 - Arts & Crafts
amiskowâciy-wâskahikanihk, also known as Edmonton, Alberta, Canada, is the home of musician Matthew Cardinal. One of Three of the moccasingaze band nêhiyawak, Cardinal has been releasing bits of music in the form of experimental idea cassettes at live shows for the past several years. His solo debut LP Asterisms marks a musical progression from these early demos while retaining the same exploratory synthesis sensibility.
The final day of the year is the launching point for Cardinal’s memory log journey. Glacial synths oscillate against each other, soft at first but with a growing intensity, a motif explored from many angles on this ambient project. From ‘Dec 31st,’ a new dawn emerges, faded neon lines stretching forth from an 80s educational video. Dates flow into one another, quick bass lines melting into higher synth chords. There’s great contrast between Cardinal’s textural sea and the icy synths that float above. The bass fades away on ‘May 24,’ letting the listener ascend to the realm of the orbiting synths, a coldness overtaking the other senses. A light tonal drone lingers on the ears like a rush of blood to the head after a sudden depressurization.
The tonal drone shifts as we move forward back through December, melodies filtering through soft raindrops that pitter patter on a metallic roof. It’s nearly calming, but a slight dissonance keeps the mind in the present, in the uncomfortableness of the Here and Now. But then, there’s comfort to be found there too, if we allow ourselves to be comforted. Emotions are stretched out like candy on a taffy pulling machine.
Onwards to spring again, ‘May 7’ is the longest piece here by a fair margin. Bowed chords snuggle up to one another like a layer cake, though the lightness of the individual textures quickly becomes overbearing in such a large number. Playful notes ring out, anthropomorphic fingers running down the strings of a giant harp. As one noise fades, another quickly takes its place, offering lulls in between but no silence. As we progress through the space, we find a slight curve to the walls—the room forms a circle, no beginning or end. Moving tangentially from here, ‘Mar 12’ forms a call and response between two celestial bodies orbiting swiftly in opposite directions. At times the synth pulls feel magnetic, as if one is about to tear the other from its path as melodic riffs are played in reverse.
Back into late summer, the synthesized tones sharpen into crystal stalactites and stalagmites as warmer tones undulate underneath. A softer melodic line bounces off the smooth cave walls, hinting of a time long forgotten outside of this space. Distinct voices emerge for the first time on the project, keeping their distance though, like memories hidden behind layers of effect and computation. Cardinal whisks us back to winter as the project nears its end, the softer chords of ‘Jan 8’ coming into sharper focus, disembodied hands on a dusty Rhodes piano. A large but quiet breath draws in and out, up and down, not quite sleeping but not fully awake.
Sentiments from earlier pieces find their way here, the end of the journey on ‘July 23.’ Quicker, more discernible melodic lines play out on top of an elongated chord swell, like the convergence of two distinct timelines. Percussive elements join the mix for the first and last time, adding a third rhythm signature to the fold. This is Cardinal’s sending off, the final glance back at where we were and the slow turn forward to what will come. An ouroboros that fades away back to its beginning as much as it hints at the direction of Cardinal’s movement. A direction we are excited to see and journey along with the artist in the future. Thank you, Matthew Cardinal. 🍍