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SATARAY/ZANIA MORGAN


SATARAY/ZANIA MORGAN 

“Argyropoeia”

By Octopi Mills

SATARAY starts off this apparent split album, where it is said two women crossed paths, and in the promotional text words like live ritual and ritualwave are used. This won’t be too far from film score or ambient music, though, and it just can’t be anything old uncle Octopi hasn't wrapped at least one of his old feelers around before, kids, so don't be afraid. "Saturn" and "Rain" are one word titles that also have other things in common such as sounding the same. Never noticing much of a transition into this sort of thing, I noticed that by the time "The Flood" swirls out that it has changed. The vocals are a low moaning that sustains and the keys/notes seem to be one button being mashed and held down in a very repetitive pattern. This works in a lot of cases- many cases too far flung to be outright explained, but it doesn't work as well as I had  not fully anticipated here.

 As dark as the SATARAY ritual was,  however. ZANIA MORGAN horns in on the one button mashing style mentioned above, with longer running times. The vocal approach seems to be different here in the same music swirl and roll established before, as if they are rolling up some sort of soft mess, like two kids playing in Dad's pastry shop making a mess for someone to clean up. I pop my rag over the thing, and find the second entity sounds not unlike the first, other than the half hearted attempt and better at handling the vocals. "Crepulsculum", I later find was the name, and all the while I was thinking of crepes, and it's these times that are both interesting and maddening. 

The final track holds some buttons down here and there and adds effects in the way one puts a fake stick-down floor over a particle board sub floor and thus works masterfully to cover up the dead air of pure art.  There are some changes to be had towards the end that sounds like birth has been given to a shiny new baby transformer and his eyes slowly open to the French art gallery of this world. My mind imagines both women as the mother, and "Nyx Ambrosia" is its name. From there come the droning phases that ride out the passing minutes. A croaking voice says things, perhaps in a ritualistic intent. I notice this album got some praise and glowing comments in some reviews. I hope I haven't done it to much justice or injustice here.