bvdub ~ Yours are Stories of Sadness

bvdub‘In 2012, I was singing karaoke in the lavish VIP suite of the most opulent bar of Shaoxing. Hours in, at the height of drunken revelry, suddenly, literally out of nowhere, one of the hired girls walked over to me from the other end of the room, and whispered in my ear:

When I saw you walk in, I knew yours was a story of sadness“‘.

These songs are remembered instances, reinterpreting the same moment over and over again; recurring, rainy imaginings.

Nocturnal rain slowly splashes the music. Puddles of reverb and obscured, jet-lagged harmonies are left behind. The interchanging notes are beautiful sounds, but they pick up the dirt and grime of the street as they shower a black road. Neon lights decorate the city, shimmering up above like out-of-season Christmas lights (this definitely isn’t the season to be jolly), and even though the looping melodies sometimes stretch out with the aim of reaching their level of dazzling brightness, they never quite make it, falling just short.

Yours are Stories of Sadness has a soft, shy glow, one that’s afraid of reactions, initial perceptions and rejections. Subsequently, it’s stuck in a gloopy loop of thoughts that constantly scan and re-read the same pages for meanings and signs – a glance may last a second longer than it usually does, but the lowering of her eyelashes closes the moment. These aftereffects linger in the bloodstream like a cocktail that was once intoxicating but is now stale and tasteless. bvdub‘s music is wide-open and yet constricted to the loop, vocally and lyrically absent. The eyes are blank portals leading to a dark, shriveled core; the soul is left lacking, and it doesn’t have the motivation to get back into shape. Even though it might not be the best course of action, the music wants to retreat into itself after some kind of rejection or failure.

Languid notes loop around the subdued blues that colour the atmosphere, and the bar’s catatonic as people start to head home. Electronic streaks zigzag quietly and then, like the last train of the night, they disappear into the dark. This’ll be the music that drowns you, playing when you realize that The One you’ve been waiting for doesn’t exist (or worse, they don’t care). A story of sadness can also be an uncaring thought or a thoughtless act. The words are a devastating deforestation, each one cutting with a sharper point; her syllables are a doomed poetry.

Be kind, for everyone you meet is facing a hard battle.

The sunlight of a warm harmony glows like a darkly florescent spotlight, lighting up the true colouring in the eyes. The music is tired, lagging but beautiful…always beautiful. Sometimes a vague-but-resolute hope washes through the music. At other times, it feels like crying, but it’s a pure emotion and the tears help to cleanse the mind. Tears don’t lie, and the music’s a beautiful, shining river, with harmonies flowing out from the tributaries and the eyelashes blinking them away, helping them to disappear. There are nineteen tracks here; one raindrop precedes a deluge. (James Catchpole)

Physical copies available here

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