S. Carey - Range Of Light

Paint a picture of S. Carey, and it’s difficult to not end up with a portrait that’s smudged with the distinguishable flecks of his collaborative project Bon Iver. But unlike so many who would scour at those who draw ties between their flagship band and their other projects, Carey’s solo affair is not shy of embracing the vessel in which he journeyed to prominence.

With the distinctive markings of Bon Iver’s craft etched so vividly on the surface, it should come as no surprise that ‘Range Of Light’ can be considered dreamy in every imaginable sense of the term. Deeply atmospheric, each song serves a role in constructing a lulling shroud that never dissipates as it runs its course. The likes of ‘Creaking’ and ‘Glass/Film’ are magnificently folk-tinged spectacles with nuances in the form of glistening bells and piano drones, whilst closer ‘Neverending Fountain’ is a lucid triumph that stacks layers upon layers of glossy instrumentation to create an artistic finale that can only be described as cathartic.

It’s the allure of Carey’s ambient wonder, however, that sometimes proves to be its biggest hindrance. Although the majority of tracks are pleasingly thick with the air of enchantment, others are spaced out sedatives that serve to numb the listening experience with elongated periods of nothingness. Occasionally, there are ripples which come loaded with the intention to shake things up – ‘Crown The Pines’ arrives in a haze of disorientating vocal patterns and climaxes with an urgent string section - but they’re fleeting, and soon enough the album slips back into a soporific stillness.

Overwhelmingly luscious at times, ‘Range Of Light’ is a record that musically embodies the art of escapism, even if that does means evading even the consciousness of its listeners from time to time.