As long as the music’s playing, sunshine continues to gently spill out, glinting as brightly as a lover’s eyes in the misty sunshine of an August day. As the light falls onto the sea, the ambient music of Nearly Real gleams like a sprinkling of loose change found at the bottom of a fountain.
In this corner of the world, you won’t find many people. The only intrusion is the occasional seagull, flying past and providing a splash of grey and white against the blue of the sky. Sun Curves has provided this seclusion, nestled just west of the main beach where, at just the right time in the afternoon, a shower of sunlight falls over the water and lights up the sea. Slivers of light as fine as a lover’s lock of hair intertwine with the body of lukewarm water, splaying out over the endless blue.
Like a subdued smile, Nearly Real is only half there, half real. Sharing the minutiae of mindfulness meditation, the slow-traveling melodies gradually become brighter as their volume gently increases. No rushing, the sign beside the beach says. Other than that, the sand is soft, and there aren’t any broken shells to worry about. Encroaching waves eventually kiss the shore, and that sound is and always has been a reassuring hypnosis for the heart, naturally relaxing the muscles of a body that’s been far too tense.
When the notes do arrive, they have a gentle transparency, so much so that you can almost see right through them. Nearly Real is completely restful, music on the fringes of waking up but never quite attaining a clear-minded state of being. You desperately want the experience to be real, but it’s the kind of music that can only be viewed through the tinted colours of a dream. Sitting here with the love of your life (“You Were Always Here”) is surely too good to be true, and with that understanding comes a slant of sadness. Distance is here, a slight separation from what is real and what can never be. It might be a dream, after all.
In the next fifteen or twenty minutes, the warmth and harmony that our friend the sunlight has brought will fade, and it will illuminate another part of the sea instead, enriching someone else’s life, leaving behind a cool afterglow in one’s own. After sunset, the sand turns black and is nothing but a long shadow. This moment won’t be around forever, but the music is cool with that. Nearly Real is the sound of a healthy summer, of sunlight gliding over a curving rainbow of light. That light skates over the music like a young girl on roller blades, until it settles on the sparkling surface…just being. (James Catchpole)