I don't know if music has ever been prescribed for people suffering from the vagaries of Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder. Perhaps it is yet to be. I don't know if this album, the debut full length release from the Austrian duo of Roman Gerold and Richard Eigner, would help with the attention aspect of the disorder (its lush textures allow the mind to drift along lazily). I am positive though, that its soothing sounds can certainly calm the frantic, hyper-driven tendencies of the modern mind.
Refracting the lounge and exotica of yesteryear through a lens of glitched electronics, Golden Solitude is as warm as an afterglow, with its unpretentious blips of pop and mellow hints of sultry jazz. An element of entrainment is at work on this record, as song by song, it seems to gradually slow down. Synced up with it, I slowed down as well. The first two songs, parts one and two of the title cut feature saxophone played in a style vaguely reminiscent of Kenny G. Normally this would be enough to turn any self respecting music lover off, but here, mixed with resonant vibraphones, pastel electronic washes, and the oceanic wave of a softly crashed cymbal, it works well, announcing the smoothness of production to be found on the rest of the songs.
In “A Fancy Friendship” the pop sensibilities and studio wizardry of the duo are exemplified. Emotive female vocals purr without lyrics over the top of a silken bass line. Dubby echoes drip off the tight percussion hits as bits and pieces of electric debris ripple through the speakers and disappear before they’ve had the time to be announced. “Disappearing City” is a more meditative affair. Ushered in by what sounds like a slurry of desiccated keyboards it quickly gives in to the dynamic interplay between bass and drums found throughout the album, a recurring element that make these songs so engaging. More experimental moments are heard on a song like “Concrete Leaves” which could be a study in Just Intonation: a brass horn hovers over extended notes, layered it plays against itself, going up and down in small increments, yet cyclically returning to a key note. This song also represents the nadir point of the album. It isn’t the last song, but is the slowest, and without percussion, bass, and the strong hooks of the previous pieces, it left me feeling like I was floating in a dissonant void of naked sound.
At the end “Golden Solitude” is reprised and remixed as a click and cut fest of flanged beats, microscopic splices, and tones that waver like a theremin. The sax is left out of the proceedings. The piano, briefly heard on the first version, is somehow given more space to breathe amidst the dense collage of audio snippets. Upbeat compared to the rest of the disc, it imparted a buoyant, relaxed feeling. With the resurgence of interest in the various forms easy listening music, this album takes a step towards a contemporary acoustic and electronic interpretation of those styles.
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