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A Journey

London, United Kingdom

Credit - Nikka Dimroci

Upbeat and intense classical-inspired folk music is hard to come by. It is kind of niche, but its flavour and expression are utterly unique. And I like it, I’m sure many more people would like it if more of it was available. On that front, we have some great news, as the album, ‘A journey’ from Richard green, Irene Veneziano and Archimia adds another font of musical wisdom to our collection. The album builds from influences in modern songs as well as influences from classical and folk music, together, the sound is complete, wholesome and friendly. ‘A journey’ is just that, a journey. It takes us down winding paths, across endless seas, through emotional turmoil and out the other side. A beautiful collection of players and sounds, this album is certainly worth the listen.

The album begins with ‘A story’, an explanation, an attempt at understanding; which works in my book. It takes all the sounds that you will hear throughout the album and condenses them into a short and brief breath of music. It shows you a vista of soundscape, mountains and valleys, fields and seas, the setting, for our journey in song. The instrumental is full of heart, it's not played to a clicker, it keeps its humanity, all of the instruments, the layers of strings and that dazzling piano work together to bring this colourful world to life in front of our ears. It comes out in watercolour at first, then as the album goes on it shifts to pastels and at the end, a grand expansive oil painting is laid out before us. ‘A story’ starts this adventure, and it is the perfect opening.

The songs in the meat of ‘A journey’ make up the path, the corners, the obstacles and the views. ‘Just different’ is ominous and discordant with droning strings and low piano melodies that growl. The song rises and curls like a cobra, it's dangerous, confounding but exciting. It picks up the pace and you are drawn into its dance of death, its harmonies that bite, its melodies that bleed warm heart-blood. It is invigorating. Our character learns a lesson about this world, it's not necessarily dangerous, scary, or dark … just different.

‘Sad but beautiful’ prowls the hills. Its heavy head and long ears, dragging paths into the untended wheat fields of grey. The melody feels like a creature, its beatings, its walk, its belonging in this world. Imagine we and our guide hide in the gorgeous brush to glance toward this friendly giant, going about its day. It discovers things, it learns, it loses, it loves. Whittle that up into song, and you have ‘Sad but beautiful’. A sombre and intoxicating swelling medley of sound.

‘Midnight’. We watch the stars. It is dark blue, silken, indulgent. The piano is high, cutting through ribbons of sound, the strings weave constellations into the deep black sky. A natural wonder, one that comes to life as the song goes on. It grows, fills the sky, and the instrumental touches on each and every star, it has a note, a chord, a reason for being there. We are told their stories, their histories - if you listen close, their futures.

‘Sea of memories’ plays as we sail home at the end of ‘A journey’. It is mellow, then grows to greatness, it swells like our heart does, wishing for more wistful tales of fantastical places. The album, to me, aligns brilliantly with Maurice Sendak’s Where The Wild Things Are. It's a tale of self-discovery through the medium of new creatures and spaces. New textures and sounds. We are given a smorgasbord of tonal delights within ‘A journey’, the album and its players create a sonic space that was instantly dear to me, as it will be for many I am sure.

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