HAROLD BUDD

Before the Day Breaks was a decent album that proved that Harold Budd still knew how to create emotionally evocative ambient music, and Robin Guthrie's ethereal guitar tone added a little bit of variety when compared to Budd's back-catalog, even if the individual arrangements and the album as a whole had that stagnant "oh, this sounds like Harold Budd" aura. However, finishing up the first Budd/Guthrie duology (minus the soundtrack work) with After the Night Falls adds absolutely nothing new to their formula.

The mood on this album is slightly less of a gloomy overcast and more of a quiet, contemplative one. Though this is a difference in sound from the previous album, it's not very significant at all -- the compositions, though dreamy and ambient, more or less sound nearly identical to what was done before on Before the Day Breaks.

The drifting keyboards and guitars heavily effected with reverb weaving between dense ambient soundscapes are undoubtedly beautiful, which is an adjective that almost always appropriately describes Harold Budd's music, but there is absolutely nothing engaging about this album at all. So, background music? Yes, but it's not even very interesting in that respect either. Though the compositions on the previous album had some real feeling to them, these compositions never develop within themselves of within the context of the entire album's duration. The previous collaboration between these two musicians had two standout tracks, but I can detect none on this album, and it seems like this duo have finally run out of worthy ideas.

I really wanted to like this album considering that Before the Day Breaks showed some real promise, and the soundtrack to Mysterious Skin released before it showed even more promise. Unfortunately, After the Night Falls shows that promise breaking down and falling away. Following this album, Harold Budd and Robin Guthrie decided to take a break from each other for a few years, which I honestly have to say was probably the right call to make.

Before the Day Breaks follows in the same ambient vein as its soundtrack predecessor album, consisting of distant ambient keyboard, twangy clean-toned guitar picking, and floating ambient synths that consume the background while the two main instruments weave their sound within, creating an ambient style that is essentially extremely chilled out post-rock sans percussion and crescendos, and it kind of all sounds better that way.

The atmosphere created on Before the Day Breaks is very depressing, which I've always considered Harold Budd to be good at. The mood created here is very similar to that of The Room albeit a bit more dense as a result of slightly expanded instrumentation. Whereas The Room creates guided imagery of an empty room that overlooks a scene of beauty affected by some type of perpetual gloom, this album rather creates guided imagery of an abandoned house that has been left in ruins, but the past beauty of the construct is inherently obvious from the size of the lot and the overgrown garden in the field behind, and this is the soundtrack to traversing the ruins and assimilating the decrepit, mysterious environment.

Though, compared to Mysterious Skin, this album isn't varied much at all, even if the previous album also contained little variation. All of the songs tend to sound the same and, after the first few tracks, the differences between tracks seem to become less noticeable from sheer lack of interest. "Turn On the Moon" is the only track that stood out to me in the beginning because of it's light electronic beat that guides a gentle southern rock meets Goo Goo Dolls ballad type of guide melody, but overall is rather uninteresting. "She is My Weakness" eventually presented itself as a standout with it's odd staccato keyboard chords, but isn't necessarily a great song nor does it really add to my exaggerated atmospheric imagery.

But, compared to many artists in the ambient genre, Before the Day Breaks shows that Harold Budd remains more competent at the art of creating affecting atmospheres through the bare minimum of chord progressions that direct profoundly dense atmospheres than many other artists could dream of creating. Though there isn't any intense musicality to be impressed with here, it's a pleasant listening experience and an emotional journey if you allow it to be.

This soundtrack for the film of the same name, Mysterious Skin is yet another collaborative effort that definitely does not live up to the somewhat experimental or stylistically different previous collaborations, but still offers up a decent serving of deeply ambient piano impressionism from Harold Budd along with Robin Guthrie (from Cocteau Twins) -- unfortunately, unlike what the lineup on this album would suggest, there doesn't seem to be any elements from '80s goth rock present on this album at all, which would have easily made everything more interesting. What this album does offer to the usual ambient piano style, though, is equally soothing deep ambient electric guitar (clean toned) that overall make Mysterious Skin sound like a far too laid back post-rock album.

This album is different from Harold Budd's previous ambient piano albums for three reasons: it's elementally different because of the soothing guitar playing, stylistically different because Budd's keyboard sounds distinctively "keyboard", and the overall ambient effects attached to and laid under the instrumentation has a much stronger and deeper reverb effect that gives the entire album a very dreamy feel. This extra reverb, though it sounds small, does wonders for this album that would otherwise be too different to albums like The White Arcades.

Compositionally, however, very few of the tracks on this album stand out as individuals at all -- something that Harold Budd has always had a problem with on his albums (and I say this over and over again, I know). "Goodbye to Wendy" follows in the same floating ambient vein as all of the tracks, but has a profound country music atmosphere to it, including echo-y slide guitar, and the whole tracks sounds like something Earth would write if they decided to be more ethereal and laid back. "Loitering" is a fairly boring song that is amplified a bit by a thin electronic beat and repetitive motif, and that's about the only thing that makes it stand out.

So, as a Harold Budd album, Mysterious Skin is somewhat different in a few aspects but is still far too similar to the ambient music he's been creating for over 30 years. As a soundtrack, I'm sure this album works way better. Fans of the the ambient piano style music of the past will most likely enjoy this album, and so will some post-rock fans, but to me it just sounds like a new stamp on an old product.

This album is probably not what you'd expect as something for an exhibit in an Italian contemporary art center, but it is good nonetheless. Music for "Fragments from the Inside" starts off in a deceptive manner with all of "Fragment One" being the trademark aimless ambient piano method that sincerely bores me to tears almost every time he's done it on previous records. Fortunately, though, it's done quite well as a long introduction before "Fragment Two" blasts off with Berlin school-type groaning and bubbling analog synths before segueing into beat-oriented ambient acid techno with a repetitive yet soothing bass line comparable to the music of Boards of Canada and Biosphere's first two albums -- from this point it is obvious that this is not just another boring ol' Harold Budd album where he treads the same path as always.

From the second track onward, each track is made up of the soothing piano, groaning Berlin school-style synths, occasionally acoustic/ethnic percussion, and various techno- related electronic effects, making this album as a whole somewhat similar to the modern nu-jazz pianist Bugge Wesseltoft's New Conception of Jazz series/group. Harold Budd has proved himself to be a good collaborator before, on albums such as Glyph, and he continues showing his teamwork-oriented skill on this album as well, with flying colors. Still, as to be expected from this artist, Music for "Fragments from the Inside" is a very laid back album and there are no explicit dance numbers to be found, and no rowdy jams, though the energy present is still obvious upon first listen -- this is what I'd like to call "techno for adults".

Something that Harold Budd is usually bad at on his own -- making tracks stand out as individuals -- is thankfully not a problem here. Each track on this album actually sounds like a song and is easily distinguishable from the others. Each track has its own identity while still conforming to an overall, album-wide style that guarantees a coherent end product.

Music for "Fragments from the Inside" is quite different from the majority of Harold Budd's albums, which might be a turnoff to some people. However, I do think he's very good at combining his trademark style with the sounds of more modern electronic music, and anyone who is a fan of Glyph will most likely find some enjoyment in this album as well. Also, if there were a Harold Budd album that I'd recommend to fans of Boards of Canada, Bugge Wesseltoft, and early Biosphere, then this would be it.

Avalon Sutra, though being dominated by impressionistic acoustic string instruments and piano, also has an increased aura of ethereal ambience that She is a Phantom did not quite have so much of. The composition style also is slightly more straight forward throughout, with an absence of the weird (albeit interesting) RIO-type compositions that echoed Univers Zero. The tone of this album is similarly downtrodden and moody, comparable to the previous album La Bella Vista except with larger instrumentation and somewhat of an aquatic or earthly vibe.

The album in its entirety is very beautiful in quite an emotionally affecting way, which is something that Harold Budd is usually good at but the varied instrumentation makes everything more compelling and atmospheric than simply an ambient piano-based album. That being said, no individual track really sticks out to me, which is something that he often has a problem with. Not to say that every song on an album such as this one requires catchy hooks or anything, but every song tends to sound nearly the same as the last except with a cello phrase switched out with flute phrase, or a violin phrase switched with a cello phrase, etc. If given utmost attention, then I'm sure every track sticks out in its own way, but it shouldn't need to be this difficult. But, again, this is very beautiful and ethereal chamber music, so Avalon Sutra has that going for it at least.

The big (and only) standout composition however is the entire second disc, which is a track called "As Long as I Can Hold My Breath (By Night)" that is almost 70 minutes long. For its entire duration it explores a single, short, minimalist motif played on strings while other elements come and go from and into the distance, giving off a vibe similar to M. Feldman's Piano and String Quartet except much less morose. Again, the light airy ambience is in full effect that makes this small chamber music type composition sound almost faux-symphonic. Indeed, for 70 minutes this track can become tiring, but it actually being centered on obvious repetition is more interesting and easier to follow than a disc of different compositions that all sound the same based on accident -- it seems more appropriate and less embarrassing this way.

Because Avalon Sutra is two discs, one being boring and the other somewhat interesting, it's hard for me to want to recommend this album to anyone. In comparison, I'd say this album is similar to The Pavilion of Dreams and the aforementioned She is a Phantom, though this is more straight forward, predictable, and entirely void of jazz influence. This could be a great album to aid in relaxation, but mostly it is incapable of garnering any interest during its entire 115-minute duration. Heavenly, yes, but increasingly tedious as the minutes wear on.

Harold Budd has been very consistent in the use of piano in his albums, for better or for worse, and La Bella Vista is his solo acoustic piano album with the ambient echoes removed or significantly trimmed down. All of the tracks are also based on improvisations. I've said bad things about his piano style in the past, but that is because all of the ambient effects made his playing seem very samey and not human. This album, however, displays a new downtrodden kind of sound that is as relaxing as it is emotionally unsettling.

Though everything is improvised, all of the tracks flow as if they had been truly composed. The album plays out almost in a story-like manner such as L. Janacek's On an Overgrown Path, but more jazz-toned with less energetic pieces. As a whole, this album creates an aura of perpetual depression led by past memories that have since become debilitating.

Each track stands out with the capability to invoke any kind of imagery from the listener's own experiences or fantasized thoughts. "The Rose" is one of the moodiest, longing tracks that sounds similar in tone to Joe Hisaishi's "Train Ride" from the Spirited Away soundtrack. Equally affecting is "Her Face", which personally makes me think of an elderly man staring through his bedroom window at his recently deceased wife's beautiful rose garden as overcast skies empty an endless downpour upon the outside world. "Other Flowers" however does shed a small amount of light and child-like splendor on this disc, but it still is peppered with a bittersweet quality that keeps it from ruining the flow of constant dreariness.

Though Harold Budd has created quite a few piano-based albums that more or less sound identical, La Bella Vista is a welcome change of atmospheric style with a lessening of obvious ambient touches to create a more earthly and nearly film noir-like hypothetical soundtrack to life's most emotionally difficult times. Based on the piano-based albums that preceded this one, I'd say that this is so far his best piano album for both its incredibly engaging emotional grasp and its display of masterly improvisational technique.

Translucence and Drift Music are the two discs included in this set, and neither are particularly interesting or at all different from Harold Budd's previous work on The Plateaux of Mirror and other very similar albums in his discography. Honestly, it's hard to hear what contribution John Fox offers to this album, because nothing stands out at all from Budd's previous sound.

Translucence is the piano-based ambient composition part of this set, featuring tracks that nearly sound identical in tone and atmosphere to each other. It's beautiful and ethereal, definitely, but by this time in his career, I'm somewhat tired of such a promising artist returning to the compositionally bland style that sounds the same as it did over three decades from the time this album was released. Still, as music that forces itself into the background due to lack of interesting moments or any standout tracks, this disc is still rather beautiful and would be suitable for relaxation.

Drift Music is similar in tone to the first disc in this set, but is primarily dominated by ghostly ethereal synth atmospheres than being based on piano. Despite this, it practically sounds the same and still doesn't offer up any variety throughout its complete duration. It's beautiful, enigmatic, and calming atmosphere again make for great atmosphere, but gets tiring after about 10 minutes.

This two disc set is overlong, by a long shot, considering neither of the discs go anywhere compositionally speaking and don't really establish any kind of emotional response other than perpetual emptiness and boredom, and one disc would have been just fine for such a response. It seems that at this point in his career, Harold Budd was hesitant to allow himself to progress and grow further from his roots that had since served him well, and this makes for a bland "it's been done before" feeling overall on Translucence/Drift Music.

After a stretch of two interesting and beautiful albums, Harold Budd regresses once again to the style that he is most known for: impressionistic ambient piano-based compositions. That being said, The Room is a bit different from similarly styled The Pleateaux of Mirror mostly because of it's tendency to stay on the darker side. Whereas compositions on the aforementioned album were occasionally uplifting and ethereal because of "happy" chord progressions and suffocating reverb, here the reverb is toned down considerably to offer a lonelier and earthlier effect, and the chord progressions are noticeably gloomier. As far as the atmosphere of The Room goes, I'd say it's got a similar effect to the great Abandoned Cities -- if Abandoned Cities was the soundtrack to a post- apocalyptic overcast city, this album is the soundtrack to each individual gray room in every empty building. The music isn't as forceful or vast, but still creates the same feeling of abandonment in a much more intimate setting.

Although The Room is largely piano-based, there are still enhancements from various other keyboards and synths to create a more varied piano-based album than The Plateaux of Mirror, and the compositions themselves have more clearly stated melodic lines that put in place a greater emotional grasp that Plateaux almost lacked entirely. But, even if the compositions are stronger, that doesn't necessarily make this album extremely interesting. To be honest, this album is somewhat boring, but I've always been more keen on Budd's more grandiose ambient synth soundscape power than his somber piano playing, though it'd be ridiculous to not at least recognize the obvious beauty that comes naturally through his piano playing, and it's also obvious that he greatly enjoyed composing for the instrument because his emotions are always able to be felt in everything he composes.

The best way to describe The Room is the depressing nacht musik brother of Plateaux with a stronger sense of compositional direction and emotional strength. Regardless of it not being among Harold Budd's most powerful work, I do believe that it is one of his best piano-based albums, mostly for the deeply affecting depressing tone.

Glyph shows Harold Budd becoming more comfortable with the sounds of modern music, similar to his previous album but much less out-of-touch. The two strongest standout elements on this album are the obvious inclusion of a stronger inner city jazz influence and a fairly steady hip-hop influence -- it looks weird on paper for this particular artist, but the style is executed very well. From the first track, "Pandas in Tandem", the immediately hip-hop beat-oriented influence is obvious with a loop that beats away with deep bass frequencies, but Harold Budd tried-and-true desolate piano style offers a great contrast and even great emotion that is both sentimental and somewhat depressing, or lonely. The music on Glyph very appropriately matches the cover design, which is always a fun thing about certain albums. The majority of this album follows suit, with varying degrees of urban music influences. "Gorgon's Anxious Pansy" is a notable track in that is seems very influenced by the nu-jazz style made famous by Nils Petter Molvaer, complete with hardstyle hip-hop beat contrasted by dark ambient soundscapes and accentuated by moody, brooding trumpet improvisation. "The Aperture" also features similar nu-jazz influence but also proves itself the most progressive track on the album, slowly and smoothly building over its 11-minute duration, and features very classy, fairly extensive, and lush instrumentation.

There are a few ambient tracks on this album that serve as nice breaks or interludes between the slightly urban styled selections, but are less impressive. Some of them, like "Johnny Cake" and "Reflected in the Eye of a Dragonfly" feature the previously distracting and underwhelming spoken word poetry that Harold Budd has never been quite good at, but it finally seems that he's been able to add some power and emotion to his voice that makes the style here much more compelling, though it still is fairly unfavorable in my opinion.

All in all, Glyph is a very good album, even if it does contain a flaw or two. Regardless, it's a fantastic addition to Harold Budd's discography and it shows his willingness to experiment with modern styles of electronic music as well as make an update to the jazz style that he's held on to since his debut. It's quite a singular experience in his discography, but beautiful nonetheless, and would probably appeal more to nu-jazz and instrumental hip-hop fans more than fans of his earlier, classic works. Still, Glyph is one of my personal favorites from this artist.

I've said before that Harold Budd has a bit of an impressionist quality in the music he writes, often reminding me of the quiet, flowing, picturesque compositions of C. Debussy and M. Ravel, and sometimes even their British impressionist classical counterparts, but has nonetheless remained somewhat boring in his seemingly very limited range of ideas -- the uber-quiet ambient piano-based compositions have nearly been beaten to death in his discography and always sound almost identical unless the music is given the utmost importance while listening. What Luxa offers is a newer, more polished sound and more (different) sounding ambient electronic touches to his classic and distinct piano sound.

Instead of simply relying on heavy reverb attached to his drifting somber instrumentals, he's employed a stronger interest in cave-like, water-like, and vaguely ethnic elements that make this sound like no other album before in his discography. From the first track, "Niki D" in the "Butterflies With Tits" suite (a title I would like to have explained to me in further detail), the change in atmosphere and composition becomes obvious, sounding like laid-back lounge jazz with a temple-esque warm echoing effect and warm ambient drone. On "A Sidelong Glance From My Round Nefertiti" the classic ambient piano style is displayed but with a stronger impressionistic soundscape quality that sounds more classy and constructed and less random and pointless than usual. Some tracks are entirely synth-dominated, like "Agnes Martin" and "Nove Alberi", which in my opinion offer up the style that Harold Budd truly excels at, while "Paul McCarthy" is an experiment in bass-led lounge jazz synthesizer and piano music that is very minimal while leading itself through clear but subtle progression until the point when it ends, drifting organic to ethereal in a rather affecting way.

While The White Arcades did offer variation in it's tracks with numbers that were piano-based, synth-based, and combinations of the two, it seemed very dry and not all too different from The Plateaux of Mirror or even parts of Lovely Thunder. This is where Luxa excels -- it contains all of the elements from the classic ambient piano style combined with the wonderful and emotional synthesizer soundscapes to create an album that sounds familiar while also adding unique elements and song construction to make this album standout among his discography as an inspired individual collection with a specific tone. The albums following Lovely Thunder were disappointing and didn't display the true artistic quality and integrity that Harold Budd was known for in his earlier days, but Luxa is where the man finally rebirths his own artistry.