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Source: Gothic Beauty Magazine Date: 04/2008 Review: This subtle, solitary album can really grab you. It opens with lulling, fragile musicbox notes and continues at the level of a faded recording, layered with background noise and ghostly voices that make it the aural equivalent of seeing orbs on old photographs. A charming but hesitant vintage piano performs in the foreground, but is gradually crowded with the noise of objects clanking and jingling together, as though spirits are trying to make themselves heard. In a really eye-widening moment, a very faint, eerie song is tuned in through the static, until it is subsumed by another oceanic storm of white noise. Put on your headphones to listen, or you might not pick up its signal and realize how strangely moving it is. Tiny vinyl crackles are quietly put to sleep by a music box lullaby. The simplistic nature of I Swear By All The Flowers urges against dismissing the album too quickly. And so I dig. Bottle Imp is an independent label specializing in genres like glitch, breakcore, ethereal and darkwave. Its four first official releases are from a single artist, plus a recent addition to its roster, BLÆRG. That first, prominent name, is Life Toward Twilight, a Detroit based solo dark ambient and post-industrial project of Daniel Tuttle. Tuttle is the man behind the label as well, which features an archive of previous net releases available as a free download. But the record that I’m listening to is far from any of the above mentioned genres. It’s ambient atmospheres, dirty hisses, and analog noises as if they were recorded from... ah, yes! All of the sounds indeed were recorded from antique sources, like grandfather clocks, music boxes, old factories, steam trains, and yes, even wax cylinder recordings! I am a proud owner of a Victrola myself, which I occasionally wind up to marvel at its analog technology of sound magnification. An entire album made of such bits and pieces, with an old detuned piano, is a truly haunting experience. A meditative echo of the past. Voices of a forgotten era recorded by the magnetic fields of earth. This is an experimental album you’ll play over and over, and then talk to your friends about. Reminded me of The Refractors, Elegi, and Deaf Center. Since announcing my new Goth book I have been amazed by the number of e-mails I am receiving from people who seem relieved I am sticking by what I love and helping to promote it! I am somewhat perplexed, as I get more from music now than ever, as many people mention in interviews when I ask them ~ there being such an abundant wealth of material out there to enjoy it’s impossible to be bored, or complacent, and you get hooked on following up new trails. Goth remains at the heart of it all for me, its warmth having revitalized certain areas, like Post-Punk; most of the early 2000’s return to that form having come out of Goth activity rather than feeling jaded by guitar-indie. Ethereal and Heavenly Voices never emerged from generally Indie activity, but came out of 90’s Goth, as has the stylistically linked Steampunk, and the more diminutive Faery scene, popularized by Goth girls late 90’s. Goth having Art as its heart inspires easily, but always with depth, which then leads to impact and here we have an exquisite album of ambient composition that relies entirely on old sounds, and without the Goth ethos seeping into all areas of music it would doubtless have been a rustier, more angular affair, instead of which it’s a delight. So hurrah for Goth and on with the review of Daniel Tuttle’s latest work, with me avoiding any sudden shocks by advising you all to buy it. A little card came with the CD which explains concisely – ‘All of the sounds used in the recording came from antique sources, including music boxes, ticking grandfather clocks, steam trains, wax cylinder recordings, early mechanical factories and old voices. An old detuned piano played by hesitant ghosts haunts the recordings. A warm static stays in place throughout, a constant reminder of the technical hurdles of early recordings.’ That static actually works as a keepnet on the project, barely noticeable but essential. Mind you, those hesitant ghosts are a bugger in the studio. “Let’s take that one again. Oh, they’ve gone!” (Or have they?) ‘Sleepy/Solitude’ tinkles through a music box, with the static clear, dainty and thoughtful. A threshing rhythm then stokes ‘Threnody To The Quiet Mind’ but the piano moves gently into the foreground, joined by ticking and distant chunky rattling. The piano perks up brightly during ‘The Theft Of Memory’, competing with a deft clutter of mechanisms and moving objects, splintering towards the end and on into the slow drone of a ‘A Trip To My Beating Heart’, which reminded me of an eerie version of the Salvation Army passing in a parallel street, then it mutates into a busy concourse of a station by the sound of it, in the busiest track which doesn’t upset the mood, it’s a weird peak. ‘Your Eyes Have Their Silence’ has more vocals lightly swirling in the dust and there’s a ghostly sheen which slowly grows bolder, and on into the comparatively joyful ‘Of Course, Words Collide’, the music box timid but glowing amid the scattering of worldly activity, which suddenly all stops and we crawl into the darker, contemplative space of ‘Threnody To Our Time Apart’ which has a sorrowful air for all its shuttling rhythm and warm piano. ‘An Incoherent Lullaby’ crackles and chimes sweetly, ‘We Sing As The World Dissolves’ has the sounds of the church filtering in through the haze, for this is often a light experience, and in ‘Sunrise’ we return to the heavier static, the ticking and the end of an old record, with pleasant piano wrinkles, where there’s the feeling of a day gone by, much as on recent Tor Lundvall albums, with a journey completed, a snapshot brought to life. A short album, which rather works in its favour, but one which avoids the background music tag as it takes you somewhere else; a little strange and jarring initially, but gradually you appreciate being there. A little treasure, all things considered. Life Toward Twilight's Daniel Tuttle returns with his first complete concept album in years. Tied together more by mood than concrete story, this album begins with the sound of a music box on "Sleepy/Solitude," and though dark ambient composers have been using music boxes to create horrific atmosphere at least since the days of Coil's unreleased "Hellraiser" soundtrack, Tuttle actually does something different with it. This isn't horror movie stuff; it's actually quite pretty, creating a pleasant nostalgia through softly plinking melodies against a background of static. This sort of dusty yet comforting sensation continues on "Threnody to the Quiet Mind," with its sparse, somehow antique-sounding piano, and "The Theft of Memory," with wooden rattling and creaks--again, a frequent trope of dark ambient used here for something other than chills and creepiness--conjuring up a sense of lost treasures languishing in an old attic somewhere. Even the noisy, more industrialized elements on this recording are less oppressive than rustic and old-fashioned, more suited to some small town in the early 20th century than a crumbling futuristic apocalypse. "Threnody to Our Time Apart" uses what sounds like a rumbling steam train for a sense of melancholy, and the background effect of "An Incoherent Lullaby" sounds like static only at first, gradually resolving itself into the smoldering embers of a warm fireplace as rain beats down on the roof above. On previous releases, Tuttle demonstrated a mastery of dark soundscapes that equalled that of NON and Desiderii Marginis, but with this album he uses similar techniques to create an altogether different mood, a bittersweet tranquillity that should especially please fans of the emotive "ghost ambient" of painter and composer Tor Lundvall. I Swear by All the Flowers is a terrifying collection of sounds, designed to inspire fear, sadness, or madness. On the right stormy night, it may just do all three. Life Toward Twilight's I Swear by All the Flowers is the aural equivalent of a collection of creepy horror movie scenes. Each track incorporates ghostly wails and a variety of distorted noises, all overlaid with the sound of a phonograph needle scraping along the waxy surface of an old record. It would be easy to imagine that this is what it would sound like wandering through the world's most haunted house. As the album opens with "Sleepy/Solitude," we wander carelessly into a dusty room, most likely holding an empty rocking chair, a grandfather clock, and scores of cracked and faded porcelain dolls. A music box melody clinks slowly, as if the gears were wearing down, or the key was being turned by a deliberate hand. As it fades out, the ear strains through the static of synthetic age to hear a voice just too quiet to make out. The static pulses like footsteps or blood through a speeding heart. A piano takes over for the lost music box. It too is played with deliberate hesitance. Water drips and somewhere someone seems to be rummaging through a cluttered drawer. We move toward the activity. Then the singing begins. There are two voices, maybe three. They wail and call out as a louder grinding clamor seems to get closer. It is difficult to tell from which direction the sounds come and too soon the voices are all but drowned out by a roaring storm of indescribable noise. A freight train fills our heads and a storm beats at the windows while a haunting melody weaves through our ears. It is sadness and fear that greets us in this place. Our only hope is to survive until "Sunrise," where we greet the pale sunlight in the doll-filled room, counting the ticks of the grandfather clock and finding the music box in our own hands. I Swear by All the Flowers is a terrifying collection of sounds, designed to inspire fear, sadness, or madness. On the right stormy night, it may just do all three. I had heard about Daniel Tuttle’s project, Life Toward Twilight, some time ago and have randomly listened to some of his material. It hardly needs presentation, especially because it has already been spoken about in two previous reviews in Heathen Harvest. It had started in 1999, when the mentioned member of Ogun’s Will decided to begin his own project. When Ogun’s Will parted, around 2000, Life Toward Twilight became the main project for Daniel. In 2007 Life Towards Twilight counts with seven releases and many compilation appearances. ‘I Swear By All The Flowers’ returns to a thematic release, while the previous one, ‘We Waited For A Subtle Dawn’ was more a collection of tracks dedicated to Laura, Daniel’s sadly lost fiancée. ‘I swear by all the flowers’ is also different from previous releases in other characteristics; it sheds some of the percussion and dives deeper into ambient, in a very particular way, creating a storyline that one can follow through the record. For the listening, one must be ready to be submerged into a place where silence is as important as every single sound. The slight distortion in the background recalls the sound a vinyl makes, full of static, when going round and round the player at its end. The chiming of a music box sound manages to generate a desolate atmosphere, where each detail comes sharply into view. This song paves the reception for the following ones: if one listens closely the listener falls into a place of delicate details and constant surprises – all so faint and subtle it is almost as if a secret unfolds like a blooming dawn flower that you can only take pleasure in if you are willing to give up a piece of your time. ‘Threnody to the quiet mind’ does not differ clearly from the initial song, but it does introduce a piano, that constructs a melody, which falls down, steps up again and again flounders. The background image sounds develop, including further mechanical references while keeping the static. ‘The theft of memory’ is obvious in its beginning, mainly because of the sharp melody that opens it. It is full of beauty, slightly oriental, very raw and intuitive. The atmospheres in the background are full of falling sounds, sort of if one found themselves inside the belly of an industrial mill, where wheels are turning and grain is raining over your head. The composition of the song is superb, and ‘The theft of memory’ becomes, without doubt, one of the most outstanding songs of the record. As a counterpoint ‘A trip to my beating heart’ is dirty, violent and chaotic. Throughout the song there is a growing buzz, a crescendo in noise, destruction and unravelling turmoil. With ‘Your eyes have their silence’ calm returns, and so does the static, yet this time it fills up with moaning voices that create a disturbing atmosphere. Mechanical noises start coming in waves and what seemed to be a haunting composition becomes a violent and overwhelming field of devastation. A chord line moves in behind the noise, only to disappear again. Some voice samplers open the next composition, where the music box melodies pour in again over a much denser and darker atmosphere than the one found in ‘Sleepy / Solitude’. The noisy, machine-like background is constantly growing in each song, like a menacing animal. Once unleashed, it is never again completely controlled, until the birth of ‘Threnody to our time apart’. It rolls around various mechanical sounds, but they are closer to a domestic sound. A steam-like motor sound is laid out while the piano notes take the spotlight. The melody is broken and deconstructed. It is as if steps were faltering, brimming with a sweet desperation. Calmness sets in as the percussion in ‘An Incoherent Lullaby’ is surrounded by wave-like sounds. Every note is strangely coherent yet floats uniquely in the surrounding static. ‘We sing as the world dissolves’ comes almost unexpectedly, until one is really conscious that the chimes have stopped and the machinery sets in. A chanting dissolves in the background, almost not there at times. The end belongs to ‘Sunrise’, returning to the flighty music box notes over the faint and ever-present static. ‘I swear by all the flowers’ is definitely a voyage trough many sentiments and reactions. It is an articulate patchwork of emotions, portrayed in an excellent way through noise confronted with delicate melody. Probably one of the better works of Life Toward Twilight to date, and highly recommended for all those that enjoy feeling gloomy, nostalgic and distressed. 'I Swear By All The Flowers' is the fifth album by this project by Daniel Tuttle, and another one with interesting and captivating sounds. Where the previous album, 'We waited for a subtle dawn' was quite diverse in its sound, this album is more of a solid concept, as Daniel expresses it himself. And he is right about that. This album has a more ambient atmosphere, with some sections of slightly denser industrial influence. The album is both shorter and calmer than its predecessor, and it lacks the heavier percussive parts that were present before. Instead, it focuses on a mixture of white noise, piano, music box melodies, samples, and other effects to create a haunting collection of tracks. Here and there, we hear everyday sounds, decrepit old records, confused female singing, or just people talking. The combination of these aspects and the fuzzy, gritty sounds lends this album a unique mood. To me, it is as if these are visions and sounds picked up by the ghost of a deceased person, who still lingers somewhere between this world and the next. He or she has some sense of what is happening in the world, and can at times make out things through the mist, but it's all jumbled and, more importantly, just out of reach. Even childhood memories and pictures of lost innocence drift through the consciousness of the musical protagonist. You can feel the yearning, madness, and grief, and that makes this a beautiful piece of music. Those emotions were also what I found missing in the previous album, and combined with the clear musical vision, it lifts this album up a lot. This is a wonderful album for those who'd like to share this eerie experience, and look at this world from beyond. Source: Sepiachord I'm usually intrigued when an electronic artist attempts to create an "organic" sounding release. Intrigued, but usually disappointed. Not so with "I Swear By All the Flowers" the third release by Detroit project Life Toward Twilight. Such attempts usually fail for one of two reasons. Frequently the result doesn't present a unified whole. The electronic sounds and the organic sounds never seem to flow together, one or the other seems tacked on. If this isn't the problem then the attempt to recreate non-electronic instruments falls flat and the listener is left wondering why the artist didn't just hire additional musicians for the recording. Daniel Tuttle, the man behind Life Toward Twilight, side-steps the above issues by focusing on two primitive "instruments": the music box and static. Both are convincingly recreated with synthesizers. And since neither are traditional elements in either electronic or organic music Life Toward Twilight is able to carve out their own niche. The sound here isn't really even comparable to ambient OR ethereal artists. It is Something Else. This album does share elements with those two genres. It can be put on in the background like ambient so that it doesn't so much overwhelm you as seep into your subconscious. Like ethereal it has a haunting, otherworldly quality. But unlike either of them "I Swear By All the Flowers" has a lost, fractured feel. The music box melodies sound less like thoroughly and lifelessly explored compositions and more like the primal, even primordial, nucleus of song. As such they remain relatively brief experiences. The pieces end with a fading out and the return of static. It's as if your listening to a radio that refuses to stay tuned to a channel, just as you become familiar with a song it is lost to you. Music boxes have been with us since the 19th century. It is a sound that's old and, if handled poorly, may sound cartoonish or trite. But on this CD the sound never cheesy, is quiet and inviting like returning to rooms in a house that you had forgotten about. Static is a modern sound, but it may be a dying sound as well. With the revolution of digital media more people are likely to hear music on a CD or as an MP3 than on the radio. Satellite radio removes static as well. Soon static will be something we're more likely to talk about and remember than actually encounter, just like a music box. The CD is haunting, but never haunted. We're not taken on some heavy-handed "creepy" journey. This isn't the soundtrack for a horror film about undead tots in a contaminated nursery. It's the sound off an old, decaying orphanage where the echoes of children and songs just want to be tucked in until the end of time. Source: DJ Kantrip What if machines could speak to us and sing to us, how would they do so? That's how I feel about Life Towards Twilight, except rather than a more futuristic organic sound, LTT is more of what the "things" around us would say and sing. More gears and springs than wires and buttons. If I were to assign a bit of a title to this kind of music I would say "Atmospheric Goth" but that doesn't properly describe this album as I've listened to it. Its not dancy and doesn't really have a rock appeal to it. But its good. Damn good. Its perfect music for rainy days or even if you want something to calm you. The overall sound of the album is lots of pops and clicks from phonographs played over the sounds of trains clacking along tracks, while a piano and music box plink out little melodies. Railcars roll past on endless journeys and clocks tick their seconds by as the cars pass it by. Each "thing" adding its own voice to a "song" that we may hear everyday around us in the bustling cities. There's a sad feel to it that gives you the impression that these sounds pulled together to fill a void of silence and break their lonliness, but that's the mental image that I had when I put this CD in my player. Elyse Reardon lends her vocals to the album adding a human element to this serene world of sounds, but like with everything else, her vocals blend into the melodic cacophony rather nicely becoming another piece in the 'atmosphere'. If you like more atmospheric and experimental projects, I highly recommend Life Toward Twilight Source: Smother.net "Detroit is Motor City as Life Toward Twilight is dark neo-classical ambient. This simile holds true with this latest venture down Instrumental Lane. Cleverly capturing noise and manipulating it with minimalist soundscapes, Life Toward Twilight structures their sound against chaos but produces quite organic structured noise. This is like a real scary version of Dead Can Dance mixed with Merzbow." Source: Absolute Zero Magazine "Another fine self released CD by Daniel and crew. A Minimalist Neo Ambient journey filled with Medieval Soundscapes and field recordings all layered and arranged wonderfully. Life Toward Twilight is more of a theater of the mind kind of event rather than just a musicial release. "I swear by all the flowers" moves track by track, more as a play with scenes except it is music. There is a sadness and desolation about all of it as well. The distant static, the constant sounds of people walking, fading sounds of daily life going on in the background and the wonderful victorian piano movements. There are some very nice female voice moments too. Over all Life Toward Twilight once again is a project to watch and I look foward to their live performances, as I'm sure they are a spectacle to be seen! Support the truly talented independent artist and pick up this release." |
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