Lake Mary

And The Birds Sung In Chorus First

Apricot lights drip into the dense forest. Native to the trees, a kind, dawn light starts to shine through their leaves. The pines are slowly painted in a striking hue. The trees glow. The leaves are awake, and they envelope the forest in a sleepy green. Needles litter the ground. And The Birds Sing In Chorus First. A circle of trees surround the music; the music surrounds a circle of trees. Strings lightly walk over the soil, showered in the light of a weak sun. They ramble on, perfectly happy to be living life out here, content to stay in this beautiful place. This is Lake Mary.

‘The Sudden Bruise of a Rainstorm’, recorded in Evergreen, Colorado, is as deep and as pure as a mountain stream. Her banjo tones offer some real clarity and a true sense of boundless freedom; of being at one with the outdoors. For days and days, the rain came down. They called it the 100 year rain. The banjo’s notes rain down on the music, creating puddles that morph into deep pools. On “Solitary Trees Marked Distant Hills Like Obelisks”, the guitar’s acoustic tone walks through a vast range; the open land of Colorado is accessible through the open strings and open chords. The higher strings shimmer as they create an almost Indian-flavoured drone, acting as a pedal for the notes below in the same way that a raga provides support for India’s king instrument, the rudra veena. The guitar nests in the loving arms of a deep valley. Birds fly, spreading wings that’ll never be at risk of breaking.

The sleepy forest harbours peace and kindness. With brittle, insistent branches, the trees huddle together to protect the music. They clothe the melodies in leafy greens. Lake Mary (Chaz Prymek) offers the listener a peaceful excursion to the forest; And The Birds Sing In Chorus First is a sublime musical retreat. The light shines through, pressing itself deeply into the strings; whatever the light touched became dowered with a fantastical existence. As a result, the tone is soft and warm in the face of the gentle September chill, and this favours a laid-back experience. The strings occasionally rattle and clank under the bruising force of the strum, but quieter moments dissect the more lively sections and they’re never far away. Silence sticks around, giving the music a chance to breathe. The silence is a bar of music. It is pure music.

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