Magazine Sixty Music Review with Slow Dancing Society

Greg Fenton reviews Slow Dancing Society – The Disappearing Collective Vol. II – Past Inside the Present

What makes this album such a compelling listen compared with other explorations into the ideals and notions of available ambience, or primarily atmospheric music without drums? An enduring vision of undulating motion, seeking out the interplay between memory and time, is one starting point, while an inner expanse and a journey into the self are another. For me, it’s the interpersonal communication between artist and listener that is most prevalent. The equivalence between the sound and expression of feeling.

In the blue depths of winter, The Disappearing Collective Vol. II also provides warmth in the glow of tones and reflective musical motifs. The music sounds like loose structures adorned by flares igniting signposts, thought about and cared about. Progressive in that it is self-defining, coursing through notes, shaping them as moments to absorb the intensity. Not overly fussy or unduly exaggerated, but carefully planted to expose maximum dialogue. Broad, sweeping statements that capture sublime suggestion. Try the beautiful, weeping Tenshi.

Blue Suburban Skies reminds me of something Eno might have said in the distant past, and its use of occasional percussive punctuation only expands the album’s repertoire. It is also a remarkably gentle yet brutally effective piece of music, composed with simple piano and soaring chords. It will be good to compare how it feels at the height of summer, out of curiosity, too.

Release: January 14
DFownload/Stream at Bandcamp
Slow Dancing Society
Past Inside the Present