Hovering is settled music. The drone-influenced notes fall like dashes of cold rain from a cloudy sky.
Hovering‘s opening drone lasts for eighteen minutes, moving at a pace slower than an elderly snail…but it is moving, and it is progressing, and droners will absolutely adore it. A deeper clarity nests inside a group of smudged tones which skim the surface and the foreground, and like those gray clouds, the slightly muddy harmonies conceal the glimmering promise beyond, never quite dissipating and revealing their full glory.
The tone is muted, covering up what trace of a bright harmony there is, and it only shines through intermittently. In this respect, the drone has a strong resolve and an even stronger core which is never in danger of breaking.
The record drifts and drifts. There’s no rush to things.
The long-form nature of Hovering encourages a spell of soul rest, an hour for closing the eyes and letting the calm music flow over you. The slow drip drip drip of the notes relaxes the mind and the body at once, acting as an instant hypnosis or therapy. On the dual “Hidden Notes” tracks, the music’s gently undulating notes are concealed by the return of muddier textures, and the two tracks segue beautifully: they were always meant to be together. Their union is perfect.
Hovering‘s fallen drones are well-formed and made with love, and this is indicative of their healthy running length. A consistently high level of quality radiates outwards. It’s comfortable music, like putting on a pair of brand new sneakers, dropping into a hot bath, or reading a good novel. The drones dream of autumn leaves and the days when you swooshed them aside with a playful kick. Rain makes everything better. (James Catchpole)