Filed Under: Music
Tagged: John Talabot
There’s something really special about John Talabot’s 2012 debut album, Fin. Could it be the dreamlike vocals? Could it be the feeling of being transported into a different world through its dark melodies and beats? Could it be how the intoxicating density of each track forms a juicy new layer of flavour, as if it were part of a rich musical chocolate gateau?
Maybe it’s just that it begins like this:
You’re in the jungle. Not a jungle. The jungle. It is a place of immense sacred significance. Fingers of mist curl themselves around enormous tree trunks. The canopy above buzzes with a symphony of life. You brush through the shady undergrowth, stepping softly in sodden leaf litter and murky pools. You are searching for something here, something lost and ruined. You have been trekking for days. It is never light here. Each day begins and ends warm, wet and dark. Finally you catch your first glimpse of it through the trees, its lithic bulk almost obscured by verdant vines, leaves of gold and calm green grass: the ancient temple.
I’ll see you there.