Tim Hecker - Ravedeath, 1972 (Kranky)

Canadian composer Tim Hecker knows how to fill up a brief amount of time with maximum sound. Ravedeath, 1972 is his sixth album, his first in two years, and is easily his most epic work. Ignore the fact, then, that of these twelve songs, seven are tracks that split up three larger pieces, all of which run well over ten minutes. To his credit, he divides these tracks at subtle moments, so they work as both individual pieces and as a larger whole. Musically speaking, Ravedeath, 1972 sounds like something from 1972; it would fit well with Cluster and Klaus Schulze records. For these songs, Hecker explores a more melancholic feel than his previous albums; mournful pianos glide over drones and buzzing atmosphere, but the combined effect feels like a requiem performed on a gloomy beach, especially on the beautiful three-part “In the Air.” The rest of the album plays upon these basic themes, but never sounds repetitive or monotonous. Pay no attention to the bleak title “Studio Suicide, 1980,” either; its bleakness in name masquerades its simple, charming beauty. Ravedeath, 1972 is a thing of beauty, a quiet masterpiece, and will serve you well as a respite from a stressful day. (Kranky)