Like every creditable explorer Richard Skelton moves forward across the land, taking account of what he meets in parallel with a severe scrutiny of the soul. When it comes to aural rendering, those notes are explicated by sequences of snapshots using reiteration as a kind of physical aid. Exactly as a pause is necessary during a long walk to catch our breath and – if only for a few moments – reflect about how we’re feeling and what we’re seeing, Skelton produces works merging individual perception, disquieted anticipation and harmonic mesmerism to give the idea of a suspension within a continuum.
In And Right Lines Limit And Close All Bodies, impressions are hard to capture without focusing on each piece’s whats and whys. The eight tracks shaping this CD are in fact rich with details that are not in a hurry to become visible. A superficial approach might immediately contextualize the work amidst throngs of less purposeful drone-based albums, especially after having noticed the increased utilization of slightly distorted tones (“In An Hydropicall Body”, “Necks Was A Proper Figure”). The imagery is clear enough, but sometimes a veil of overdriven dampness seems to make things a little more difficult to delineate. The acoustic mourning of Skelton’s earlier productions has now given room to a harsher vision of reality; the solemn purity of unmitigated sorrow is replaced by a need of paying attention to the concealed dangers and the resident ghosts of a barren landscape.
Still, not an ounce of unwarranted strain. Although no direct answers exist to many of these questions, the very sounds invite to stay composed in silent waiting. It takes a lifetime to acknowledge a move that has proven decisive in the wrong turn of a life; even then, the process of “understanding” that lets us progress in the path towards complete detachment originates from repeated passages through certain resonances. As the enthralling environments of “Scaleby X” and “Scaleby XI” suddenly appear, we finally realize that everything we do not comprehend at first is just an old, useless mental cloth to be removed from our organic structure as soon as possible.