I’ve managed to miss most of the Going In releases so far (something I need to rectify), but this new longform offering from Abby Echiverri is a glossy, sacred trip. Over the course of an hour, Echiverri etches mimeographs of memories into tonal glass and soft, flowing synthetic clouds. Recorded live, these devotional explorations are moving lamentations on the cycle of grief and the natural echoes it reverberates through the universe.
Infused with a subdued familiarity, Echiverri interlaces repeating patterns and divergent textures into meditative shapes. Flute-like tones drift outward, wrapped in subtle delay, providing a soft, deep cut through overcast chords. Throughout the opening section, tension belies the opulent synthetic layers pushing forward and rising above the surface. Rifts created through echoing marimbas spiking through the liquid sonic maze stand in stark contract to the soft edges that line Sketches on Loss and Levity. Echiverri is a conductor, keeping a seemingly endless stream of different elements moving in unison. It’s impressive.
Closing your eyes and lying down in a comfortable place is the best way to get the most out of this sprawling excursion. Artificial strings hover in air while disembodied voices scatter across the floor, the last vestiges of the darkness spiriting into dust. These future ghosts are harmless and as your mind wanders into deeper zones, your body loses shape and meaning until it’s at one with the empty space. Ascension is free, at least for a little while.
Sketches on Loss and Levity is a deeply satisfying aural journey into dark reaches, imbued with a determination to shine a light in every crevice. Interwoven with melancholy, there’s understanding. The darkness never fully leaves us, but there are respites to be found along the way.
