in the door is a cardboard sleeve in a capsized shoebox. Like a dollar-bin record salvaged from an inventory of well-worn screamo 45s and slowcore singles, it’s an unassuming work of snug brilliance - a nightlight glowing in an uncharted cranny of the internet. Dressing his arrangements with the voices of online pals and the occasional vocaloid synth, nonorain smears frenetic jazz grooves with streaks of math rock twinkle that evoke the nimble riffage of This Town Needs Guns as much as the smoldering drones of Pearl Kyoudai’s score composed for Welcome to the NHK.
This is sleeping-bag-and-lantern music. CPU-unit-fan-whirr music. Ergonomic-pillow-and-Biscoff-cookie-on-an-aircraft music: small spaces tucked within great expanses.
More about: nonorain
