Delta is a river of life that runs through a lush and vibrant rainforest, its eternal soundscape dripping with the waters of vitality, its inner sprawl prevalent with a thousand heartbeats and inhalations. As the music works its way through the veins of the jungle, the rain starts to fall, dripping over strange plants and exotic-looking amphibians. The wind rushes over the music, and in the dark, vividly green leaves of the trees the birds sing and call out. Under the tree-line, Delta is a place of mysterious symmetry. Like gazing into the stunning windows of a tiger’s eyes, there’s a deep, fantastical fascination inside the music. This is paradise.
Natural harmonics chime sweetly, and the notes sparkle as the sun sets over the ocean. A light reverb splashes against the side of the music, creating its own dampened tones that gently pulse in the cooler afterglow of the sun. The music’s incredibly ‘full’; the sound is a well-shaped, well-defined one. Before going on this expedition of a lifetime, the notes were at the gym working out. Serene and beautifully exotic notes chime and sway against a colourful, slightly hazy drone that wavers like a pool of water as the light shimmers over it.
Aquatic textures dive right into the music, but later on, as in ‘South Bend’, the music morphs into something slightly fuzzier, the shallow depths becoming more abrasive with the shore’s detritus of loose sediment and the sharper shells beginning to prod at the bare feet. The melodies are generally bright, glinting like soft emeralds, and the music is harmonically healthy. The electronics are always there, but they’re a part of the natural ecosystem and they don’t jut out of the music. On the contrary, the electronic parts blend in, chameleon-like, with the forest’s surroundings. Delta is a spacious place. Tim Diagram never rushes things, and while there’s a lot of activity within the music, it remains open and inquisitive throughout. Crushing colours merge together as they trickle along this meditative river. The second half of the album is a little more sedate. The mood mellows even more, and as the music starts to truly drift, it leaves its cares behind, discarding them like old clothes that don’t fit anymore.
Then, its world fades away. Trees part and a golden clearing awaits. The sound of the water is louder here, and it cleanses your soul. The river has led to a rushing waterfall where the notes slip into eternity. Does it live only in the mind, or is it a physical place? Is it just an illusion? In the end, it doesn’t really matter; the river always flows to the sea.