Nick Storring
Exaptations [CS; Notice]

I tend to get impatient with longform artists who, from where I’m standing/listening, seem to use drone/new age/etc. as a springboard for hourlong descents into nothingness. That’s why the genuine article, when it shows up at my doorstep, will always get respect at my humble Texas abode. Nick Storring, as many of you already know, is the real deal, and Exaptations is a perfect example as to why his music captivates the soul while that of others often winds up in tape-scene purgatory, twisting and struggling to attain a sense of purpose and/or destiny. It might be the soothing, intermittent strands of sound that emerge from the galaxy-esque darkness every so often to rattle the teacups of the soul. It might be the near-mythic scene-setting, which keeps the ear oriented and addicted even when in between dunes. It might even be the almost-wacky (if I didn’t know better, and I do) percussion that pops up like a silly geyser and soaks the soul just when you were getting too good at chin-rubbing. Whatever it is, like I said, Storring HAS IT, his compositional prowess only eclipsed by his sense of atmosphere and space, making for a 2001: Space Odyssey feel, and isn’t that what most of these underground synth outfits have been going for all this time? Look no further if that’s you’re thing, as Exaptations skips the launch and goes straight to the lonely floating sensation we’ve all seen depicted on the big screen, bolstered by the aforementioned bursts of percussion and other stretches of sound that end up in Storring’s artistic orbit. It’s a trip you’ll be somewhat familiar with if you indulge in Frank Rosaly tapes/LPs, and while I’m sure there are others I don’t know who they are. There’s only so much time in the day, so I choose to let the Storrings of the world reach out to ME; and if they don’t, I never hear them. And, so, there’s a lot I don’t hear, and that’s the breaks. It’s only fair, as I struggle weekly to scratch out enough time to praise the musicians I respect too much to express as it is. The days of reaching out are long gone, so find me, WOW me, and don’t take me for granted or I’ll disappear and emerge stronger than ever as a writer for ET or some banal shite. Until then, lend Storring your ear and your soul for the ultimate spirit-cleanse. Quasi-new-age healing is his specialty.

Links: Notice

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