If I had to pick a single word to describe this album, I would pick: minimalistic. A single piano, with its sound sometimes morphing into a bell-, organ- or marimba-like timbre, is the train that takes us through this album. The pedal, pardon, brakes on this train are broken: Resonance and reverb are the smooth operators that seamlessly connect the tracks. Its railroad is forged from resonance and reverb, which makes this a smooth ride. Passengers that want to contemplate and let their mind wander a bit, but not too far, are welcome; the album guides them through a slowly evolving, emotional landscape.
The stops on this trip are close by and describe a tiny, wordless story, played out within a day. Besides us, the train is empty, and the world we traverse might be empty as well. We are the only Summer Ghost on this trip, that carries traces of wind, ocean and nostalgia.
Starting off, we encounter some melodic ideas that construct themselves, but don't resolve anywhere. Tonality changes often, almost unintentionally, which makes Sleep Talk a fitting description. A short initial stop, we pick up some energy to start off our day.
But it doesn't seem to be going so great, because the next stop up is Little Misfortune. Being the structurally most fleshed out track in this album, it offers a range of events: an initially cute and charming phrase is rudely interrupted. The increasingly strong growing dissonances are reminiscent of a train-crossing signal, an almost foreboding harbinger of what is to come. Tempo does not rest, it is constantly shifting. We seem lost in the fog of the summer haze, wandering aimlessly. Luckily, the initial cute phrase, although slightly flustered, finds us again and guides us back to our train.
My favorite track of this album, A lull in the sea, sets its atmosphere with a soft rain, reminiscent of a lofi-crackle sound. The piano itself becomes dynamic, a bouncing feeling starts to arise. For a minute, the devil and the angel on my shoulders have set war aside and spend the rainy afternoon talking calmly with each other: Ideas are simplified into call- and response-patterns, the sounds keep lingering and coming back.
As lulls are never permanent, the final jolt signals that it is time to return to the train.
In Good evening, sadness, a beautifully soft wall awaits us. It has a gate, through which we slowly wander. Slowly, the walls and surroundings evolve - a creeping, ominous something starts to overshadow us. The words that I want to write down dissolve into simple letters - faced with this sound of echo, I space out.
And to space we arrive *In Solitude, Where We Are Least Alone". Trains are crazy! The organ/piano greets us here with some powerful drone notes, way stronger than what we have encountered so far. At times, we get the feeling that from somewhere, a full-fledged song is playing, and we only hear its harmonic traces from a distance far, far away. The dissonances we saw prior make space for a more complex world, filled with many singular ideas. The sound of wall evolves, and the title is right - maybe even ghosts are never alone.
Our last stop ends at night, with Fireworks at the Moonlight. Picking up imagery (and even sound cues?) that reminds us of Debussy's Clair de Lune, we reach a calm place. Even the fireworks themselves are almost silent, but leave behind a sparkle. Both brightness and deepness come together in the piano. The dissonant notes that remain don't feel out of place, they blend in just fine. And as night only ends to give place for a new day, such does this track end on a final, open-note.
Thus, our journey comes to an end. It captured the feeling of "somber tranquility" surprisingly well, given its minimum arrangement (or maybe, right because of it). Listening to it is a grounding, at times stirring journey. The sensation that came to my mind was:
I'm alone in this world, but that's okay. It will be okay, I will be okay. We will be okay. The title names, aesthetic of the album art makes it a cohesive piece of work.
Since the majority of the sonic experience is centered around the single piano sound, keeping the focus on the details is an easy task. I caught myself often zoning out, which had me do double-takes on which track I was actually listening to in the moment, since they share so many similarities. For a smooth listening experience this works great, but might be an acquired taste when taking in the full album in one go.