Species came from a love of long-distance running and a love for the desert. Putting one foot in front of the other in a ceaseless rhythm not only sends a Fitbit into overdrive, but it brings stability, exhilaration, and serenity. Bing & Ruth’s David Moore has experienced this. The elevated, meditative, and addictive nature of running and the resulting endorphin-kick of exercise combines with the glinting absence of a desert landscape on Species, which takes an equal amount of inspiration from his twin passions, encouraging a trance-like state of mind with similarly spacious and deep music.
On this record, Moore wanted to humble himself, intentionally making himself appear small, mortal, and very human, in the midst of a seismic and unknowable landscape, and the same can be said for the Universe, let alone a section of swirling sand in a single country and on a single continent. Instead of looking inward, Moore ‘wanted to look nowhere’. Its mummified landscape created a panorama which is permanently on pause, unbroken by obstructions or the rocky debris of a ranch in Roswell. Out here, the eye is free to take in a complete 360, moving and yet remaining the same with every forward step. Moore manages to transfer the physical side of his first-hand experience – the sense of overwhelming space and freedom – and slips it into his music with ease, like an old Walkman shrugging in time to the rhythm of the body, hopping around in a back pocket as he runs.
His diminishing (or a lessening) of self has resulted in an expansion of the music, especially in terms of Species and its aesthetic. The music here is wide-open and uncluttered, stretching as far as the eye can see. At the time of recording, Moore was a short run from the coast and the Pacific Ocean; he was also within driving distance of the desert. The music feels loose enough, but it’s also in-the-zone, able to free itself from the normal roads and skirt off from busier musical highways in search of something fresh. Contrasting geographies, cultures, and atmospheres of both the coast and the desert are somehow absorbed into Species; it devours them. The constraints of time are forgotten, and the music is subject to missing time, existing outside of its parameters.
As it revolves, progressions become repetitious expectations and blissful, anticipated cycles, mirroring the one foot as it steps in front of the other. In this instance, ‘repetitious’ is a favourable term and doesn’t carry any negative connotations. Because repetition is embraced, the music goes deeper into what is an extended workout. What is good for the body is beneficial to the mind, and the mind reaps the rewards, too. Instead of searching for the ‘right’ instrument, the instrument called out to him, and therein lies the answer as to the quality of the music.