A friend introduced me to the music of ambient artist Helios (Keith Kenniff) a few years ago, while I was fighting off a cold and feeling exhausted. It was the album called Eingya, from 2006. I recall really enjoying a piece called Dragonfly Across an Ancient Sky. I checked into more from Helios after that. My current favorite track is called Suns That Circling Go, from his first album, Unomia.
It begins with solar winds trailing stardust into the eternal darkness of time and space. Or
It begins with a beacon in the middle of an ocean, sending strange energy into the cosmos, where it is received by an observatory and patterns are revealed.
The vibrations and frequencies of suns doing what they do, wheat waves on a field, in some other corner of the universe.
It expresses a certain isolation, at an unfathomable distance, something incomprehensible.
It also contains a gritty raw distortion: a dense curtain of motes in a sunbeam, a dryer working at the other end of a very large basement.
There is a slight metallic tone at 0:31, and at 1:36 there is little tap, like on a plastic tub, pretty faint. What's it all about?
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