- Sounds of Belovodye - Road Light (4:08) [~5.69Mb]
- Sounds of Belovodye - Limner (03:45) [~5.16Mb]
- Sounds of Belovodye - Moss (06:55) [~9.51Mb]
- Sounds of Belovodye - Shambala (05:23) [~7.39Mb]
- Sounds of Belovodye - Nebula in HourGlass Galaxy (05:35) [~7.66Mb]
- Sounds of Belovodye - Through the Darkness (02:22) [~3.25Mb]
Download full album in ZIP archive [~38.3Mb]
This music is organic and self-sufficient. It has no frameworks and borders, hoping that a person will want to depart to space by himself, to open the Galaxy and to be dissolved in the world of stars. The thoughtful listener of this release can try to grasp in a semantic stream of poured sounding of this work, to expand horizons of sights on the world, because ambient is music of harmony. Pleasant flight in infinity!
Review by Haiku-d-etat
As far as I can remember, I have always considered fire as a special state of the air... A happening of accelarated particles suddenly produces the miracle of a wilder light that no one can tame. As close as I can remember, I have always known the night as a special state of the space, an other texture of the immensity. While asleep, the kingdom of sounds transforms itself and each sound reverbs infinitum, every sound, every drop get an other nature, every wind is a component of a narcoleptic symphony. While asleep, consciouness can't be a barrier anymore. The army of fantasies and wild thoughts escape running naked into the night. All that we know can't be a barrier anymore. The only thing that remain is the pure sensuality of the body, sounds and physical feelings become one and only one thing. Actor of a post-apocalyptic movie. I feel strangely good. I dream.
I walk layed. A whole universe of sounds draw immense landscapes that can magically be containted inside of my brain. Immense! So infinite... This is where I'm walking in. Both etherean and trivially heavy on my sheets. It's raining inside. I can reach everything with my mind while sweat pearls roll on the surface of my skin. I can hear strange birds singing underwater. Little monkeys and dogs wailing, all lost in the long rumors of the night. I can see an other day getting born. Or its first lights at least. I travel in an other world while the other one surely goes on in its regular panic and collection of jet lags... I don't care, I'm telling you: I don't care... I explore the richness of my own possibilities. We are so much more than eyes opened.
You call that my weirdness, my blackness, my darkness. I call that: my freedom.
Review by Nathalie Bateman
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