It arrived with a sting of blown sand against my burned face, and a soft voice, whispering in the rising dust. I stopped to listen. Nothing. I wrapped myself tighter and lowered my head. I walked.
The water was gone. This was my only thought. I climbed the face of a dune, and I slid down the other side. I did it again. And again. Always moving toward a ragged blue line in the far distance, tall rocks, or hills maybe, or green trees swaying above a cool green pool.
I descended to a white plain. Sharp crystals whipped into my eyes, insistent, as a hot breeze swept out of the dusk. The voice again, from the slope behind me, then a call, far off in the shimmering haze. The breeze became a wind that pressed me to the salt. I crawled, near blind.
It was still when I woke, but utterly dark. My body was an agony of thirst. I waited.
And in that abyss, then, a distant orange spark, just a flicker, like a cat’s eye in torchlight. It took notice of me, and approached, growing, spinning slowly into a twisting braid, until it stood over me, a whirling column of flame. It gazed down at me, breathing, whispering my name, and I could hear how it smiled, and how it hungered.
Some of this is music for video games. The rest is a fairly raw document of my ongoing attempt to find something new among the blinking lights in my studio at home.
Noveller got me started. This is essential listening for guitar explorers. Always inspires me to continue the search for new ways to shape the air. Michael Bell
Disasterpeace's latest game soundtrack is packed to the gills with samples, mimicking the background noise of the subways in the game. Bandcamp New & Notable Dec 29, 2016