R. Hunter’s missing scenes project continues to evolve in organic and compelling ways. dream or memory? finds him collaborating with percussionist Steve Lyman to craft a gently propulsive sonic exploration of the unconscious. Electronic realities dissolve and reform into fluid, tonal synapses. Light bends and fractures into distinct colors through these synthetic landscapes, each strand unraveling new questions.
This music is deeply textural—rain trickles down glass, thunder hums across open space, birdsong flits with airy grace. Hunter weaves these elements subtly, allowing them to emerge naturally within the arrangement, cradling them in sonic surveys that blur the boundaries between the real and imagined.
The title track drifts freely, submerged in a blue-green expanse while soaring beyond pink-speckled skies. Emotive haunts take shape around elegiac chord freezes, spiraling upward with melodic reverie. Extended notes are drawn into stillness, yet they resonate endlessly. Hunter frequently employs resonant drone forms as the foundation of his work—a defining strength that anchors his experimentation and fuels deeply engaging compositions. Lithe accouterments sparkle in the margins, softening the weight that drags downward.
On “you fear closing your eyes for darkness, but would you want a night so bright you cannot see the stars?,” waves crash in subdued rhythms, shrouded by high-pitched drones that sear mist from the soil. Lyman taps into this atmospheric flow, pushing the cadence, amplifying its impact, and expanding the aural field. His contributions to dream or memory? are transformative.
Dying embers glow through wistful chord progressions stretched into the growing darkness. “time we’ve lost to wakefulness” is desolate, parched for fire. Hunter braids crystalline, semi-randomized pitches into the humming divide – morning trying to break through into our psyche.
missing scenes has been on a roll the last few years, but dream or memory? ups the ante. It’s Hunter’s most refined work yet. As seabirds trill in all directions, everything begins to fade. Phased out and drowning, dawn breaks—but we’re still standing on this endless, phantom beach. Whether it’s real or not doesn’t matter.
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