The feeling and sound of desolate spaces and the dark magic they can conjure is a lifelong obsession of mine. Ripe with possibilities for renewal and rebirth, there’s a unique kind of hope in them. Shanna Sordah’s 28-minute saga explores those narratives in wrought and engaging ways, finding beauty in the dichotomy. Cello notes mournfully rise from the dust-laden floor, like ancient spirits returning to earth. Enchantments build as synths and bowed cymbals simultaneously build structure and chaos, methodically marching toward distant horizons. Electronics spew into blackness, crunching the last fragments of bleakness underfoot so that something new can emerge from the darkness. With cello lamentations floating back to the fore, the resurrection is complete and the future holds unknown promise. When Blood Turns To Bone is genuinely moving.
