Is there anyone as prolific and consistently excellent as Kevin Drumm? I can’t think of anyone. Few artists have such a sprawling, massive discography absolutely littered with incredible piece after incredible piece. It’s overwhelming, obviously, but more so inspiring. On Sundays, we get a gentler side to his oeuvre, and the result is blinding. Soft drones and wordless voices call out, welcoming the dawn through cracked windows with the distant wail of unknown origins faintly pulsing in the background. “Sundays” hangs in the air, motionless and permeable, a distillation of the slow, blissful morning.
The mood turns nocturnal with the second track of Sundays, “0.75ed.” Smooth organ chords move slowly, contemplating the remains of the night. Calming the fears of darkness and an impenetrable blank canvas with reminders of twilight’s sweet embrace, Drumm guides his minimal sonic palette with a softness. There are no sharp edges here. “0.75ed” exists in an infinite loop, a place where careful contemplation and small dreams are held close in the tiniest movements and faintest shapes. By bringing everything in close, Drumm offers an intimate space to let go. Even by Kevin Drumm’s standards, Sundays is a standout.
If you like what Foxy Digitalis does, please consider supporting us on Patreon.