Repartiseraren is proud to bring you the exclusive premiere of Sana Obrurent’s album “Prince Of The Air” – as re-released by Blackjack Illuminist Records on the 2nd of December. Descend into the abyss and out of it again, as this gripping piece of music takes you on a journey you’d never expect – an unexpected trip to your wildest imagination – but also a trip into pure beauty.
How refreshing it is to hear a proper, ambient release, by a smaller artist – someone like Paul Lopez – the creator of Sana Obruent. In his first track on this release, you’re invited to a dreamlike trip into beauty. The song is titled “Semper Et Valete” and is a collaborative track between him and his brother, Anthony Lopez.
It is as if you’re flying, as if you’re high above the sea, on a journey to somewhere far away – somewhere that isn’t now, it’s like a timelapse, nostalgia has flown with wings of her own and carried you with her. Even though this piece is only three minutes long, it feels like a lifetime – in a good way.
There’s something wondrous about the repetetiveness, but it gradually changes after time goes by, and for a song that is this short, is a feeling on its own. Even though there are hints of darkness, melancholia if you will, there’s something uplifting about the song as a whole.
“Ut Memine” is also a piece to be reckoned with. The build-up to the crescendo is much slower, but there are different phases of the music which you’ll have to pass by and even though it may seem monotone at first – there’s a lot happening on the sublime side of things. Imagine this as a lucid dream, or as being beneath the sea – somewhere in the depths – checking out the coral reefs. When listening to this song, it feels like you’re way out at sea, or in the depths of it all.
Maybe you’re still above surface, out on a bridge somewhere, there’s something lurking beneath but you don’t care too much about it. It is a peaceful song, like slow waves around the coastline – or as a cinematic way of portraying the sea and what a unique place it can be. There’s also a theme to it, maybe it is not the Nordic seas that are being portrayed, but rather somewhere in California – in the midst of The Salton Sea.
Here’s where everything goes dark ambient. A still image, a portrait, something is amiss. “Expecta Me” is a more subconscious song, as if there is something lurking in the shadows. As if there’s something watching you, there’s a kind of paranoia embedded into the song itself, someone is there but what is going on, really? Is it a song to trick the mind of the feeble? Or is it, in general, a good portrayal of what haunts us inside.
There are many questions that arise when listening to this song. It is scary. It is at the same time far away, but close and nearby. After listening to it a few more times, there’s something about the uncertainty that makes you want to turn the song off. It is haunting in the worst way imaginable. It never ceases to exist, it still is there somehow, even though you don’t want it to.
“Enim Celeste” is a wintry passage. Like passing through a mountain and the only thing you hear on the other side, as it is winter, is the cold, chilly noise of the wind itself blowing against the side of the cave, also into the cave. A steady flow of rhythm is created through this ambience – a flow that is menacing to say the least, it doesn’t really make you want to climb mountains in winter.
There’s a certain picturesque side of it which is likeable. While being inside, that is. It would be cosy to be near a fireplace, rather than being in the midst of what this song is portraying – even though the glittering, fading snowflakes and general adventurous nature of it all – can seem quite exciting at the first glimpse of it.
“Exiguas Pause” is a transcendental song. We’re here and now transcending into something otherworldly, like the bell chimes ring and how nature sings – however, we’re stuck in some kind of limbo, unable to move either back and forth. It’s a peculiar thing, it’s moving slowly towards us as we accept the fate we’ve been given. A mental prison, but a freeing state of mind at the same time.
The song slowly develops, as it sets the tune of this album that is the dividing line between the first couple of songs and the more dark ambient-oriented songs. It is eerie at the same time, there’s a tone to it that is subconcious as heard in previous songs, and it slowly fades away in the end like it never was there, like our mind played a trick on us, as set up in a musical fashion.
Suddenly, pleasurable. With the song “A Day Mense Augusto” – every negative emotion felt throughout the listening session of this release itself, fades away. There’s a positivity in the atmosphere that lurks within your brain and puts you into a lull. Nothing is even remotely going to hurt you, nothing will irk you even though your brain might be telling you something different – because there’s a switch that goes off in your brain whilst listening to this song.
It is emotional, in a good manner. A long-runner as well, in terms of length, clocking in at ten minutes and twenty-three seconds. Somewhere along the way, I was wrong that it was the dividing line between dark ambient and the more lighter, musical pieces. It is more complex then that, playing on the strings of human emotion.
“Expergiscimini Et Somniantes” threads the same path as the aforementioned song. It is like a continuation of the well-being of the last track. But there’s a certain undertone which isn’t prevailent in the other song which makes this song heavier in a sense. There’s some kind of claustrophobia, when the synthesizer vibrates slowly and resounds. You’re stuck in a good place but you don’t really know what to make of it.
Slowly, everything descends into pure hell, as “Memories De Furtivae Praeteritlus” create a fear within me. I am trapped between the good and the bad, the evil and the wicked, something is brewing outside that I don’t want to face. There’s a very transcendental theme to this song as well, but not in a good way. It is what ever you fear the most that has entered the picturesque, it is a disturbing piece and I turn it off because I can’t bear the negative emotions.
What a trip through heaven and hell. This record is not for the faint of heart, I tell you. It is a menacingly good re-release and it paints up the good and bad in everything. This music is not for you if you’re not willing to face what haunts you, or if you’re not willing to make your way through the picturesque, into heaven, through hell again.
There’s an uncertainty about this record. I don’t like that it hits so emotionally, that it is crafted in such a manner that it is bound to be emotional. Paul Lopez is very skilled at this, which is noticeable throughout. For those looking for a varied release, this is what you should aim to get, if you’re into ambient and dark ambient – brooding, droning pieces of music that seem to continue forever and ever.
Get the re-release as a CD, cassette, both, digitally or whichever way you want, down below.