It caresses the mind and careens forward, this Beautiful Schizophonic (Jorge Mantas). Musicamorosa is a selection of passages, deep and full-bodied in passionate drone. Music for the awakening of the soul, no doubt. Much of this was influenced by the romantic sense of time, and losing it, in the literary work of the great Proust (Valentin Louis Georges Eugène Marcel Proust). The disc is most cavernous at times (“Du Fond Du Sommeil Elle Remontait Les Derniers Degrés De L’escalier Des Songes”), taking a surging river ride at others (“Les Oiseaux Qui Dorment En L’air”). On “La Lectrice” (The Reader) he employs multi-instrumentalist and composer Colleen (Cécile Schott) reading without accompaniment from Proust while in Paris. It causes for a linguistic pause before once again floating amid the luminous “L’amour, C’est L’espace Et Le Temps Rendus Sensibles Au Coeur.” Chambers of translucent whispers and the elongated echo of whistling carry the sense purported on “L’éternel Matin”. What Mantas, who fancies himself a sound designer rather than a composer, ends up harvesting here is randomly conceptual as a long player. It works in sections, but perhaps it may be best left alone, to simply bathe into the entirety of its length. And in conclusion, it does with the thirteen minute gem “Soixante-Quatre (@C Pour T.B.S.)” which combines all that is grande about electronica today, a glint of minimalism and the subliminal power of the soundtrack. And while pre-empted by hushed, fidgety goings-on the end straddles those moments in-between, that time actually forgot. Which is to say the subtleties of Musicamorosa will carry its secrets into the air like a swarm of bees, vying on extinction, on a particularly humid day.
TJ Norris