Soon after I hit play on Digital Creatures, I got the distinct impression that this music wasn't for me. To be perfectly clear, I enjoyed it and felt compelled to listen further, but it felt as if it were written by aliens for other aliens. The phrase "not intended for human consumption" passed through my mind. I imagined a lump of moss growing on a rock might be a big fan.
But yet, there was a beauty to it. Flowers are beautiful, but they're not beautiful for us. They're beautiful for bees, and we just happen to like them too. Around track 2, it started to feel hypnotic, like I might assimilate and become moss myself by the end.
Art is usually a conversation between the artist and the audience. Early on, it felt like I was instead watching people have a conversation in another language, silently wondering what they're talking about.
Then something changed. Track 4, pinwheels, began, and suddenly I felt noticed. It was gentle, comforting, and loving in the way a human might care for a bug or fondly water a plant. Track 5, crickets, begins, and now I'm on an adventure in a new place. Everything is starting to feel a little bit more familiar. This progression continues. Fast forward to track 8, courtyard, and I'm looking back nostalgically from my new home. I can feel the strangeness everpresent, but it feels comfortable and familiar rather than foreign and alienating.
In the end, what I got was a surprising allegory for immigration, strongly paralleling my feelings of moving to a new country. Maybe this music was actually written for me, specifically for me, after all.
If you're looking to assimilate into a photosynthetic society, this is for you.