I downloaded Clem leek‘s Snow Tale recently, and was listening to it while doing work around the house today. I’ve been marveling at the corn field that stretches out from behind our house, it’s flower pokes up from the stalks and if you are at the right angle, because the corn is well above my head now, it is a great shimmering sea of gold and green in the breeze coming out of the west. It seems in August vegetation is at it’s peak; goldenrod and purple loosestrife are in full bloom and all the rich colour gives an almost majestic feel to the rural landscape. All this colour must have been what prompted me to write yesterdays brief post on how music can really change how we receive our surroundings. So Clem leek’s gentle shimmering bells and strings gave a wonderful backdrop for gazing out the window as I washed dishes or paused from trying to keep up with picking up after the kids.
Track #2 keeps calling me to listen. It’s sparse staccato strings throughout seem to be replying to the birdcall that begins the piece, as if deep in some woods. The notes of the sustained, airy strings give a slight sense of anticipation as if you’re rounding a bend on a trail anxious to meet someone.
The remix of track #3 is a nice surprise in the otherwise percussion-less set, with a glitchyness that at first makes you think there’s something wrong with the playback but quickly resolves itself in the listener.
This was my first encounter with Clem leek and I think I’ll be exploring more of his music in the future. A quick search of his bio on FB tells me he comes from ‘the South East of the UK’ and classifies his work as Modern Classical/ Ambient which seems a fitting description.
I know it seems contrary to be talking about a release entitled Snow Tale in August, but that’s what drew me in, I guess the humidity was getting to me.