Helios
Eingya

It's a mild sun that illuminates "Bless This Morning Year".
And you're immediately immersed in the clear light of Eingya.
It's an inverted backwash in the crystalline sound of guitars, "Halving The Compass": another hinted watercolor on a light sheet. Transparencies of a relaxed breath.
The lapping continues, under the impalpable essential string textures in "Dragonfly Across An Ancient Sky", which fades into a yielding trail.

A trail that becomes dense and extended, frequencies of a sound, a brief vaporous corridor, in "Vargtimme."
And you slip into the expanded space: waiting and contemplation. A subtle crescendo, but only suggested and imagined, as "For Years And Years" takes shape only to vanish like a soap bubble before your eyes.
It seems to want to disappear, in the small black hole that opens in the heart of the track, even the clear circularity of the piano notes that welcomes you in "Coast Off". But it re-emerges, intertwined with the arpeggios of an acoustic guitar, to lead you to the slight bewilderment produced by that voice: a sobbing chant before other voices, a wordless choir emerging from the shadow, are swallowed into the fading horizon.

The 11 tracks that make up "Eingya," the album released a few months ago by Keith Kenniff (the identity of the American musician hidden behind the moniker), traverse a sonic horizon of softness and suspension, outlined by the meeting of the liquid and circular movements of the piano with crystalline vibrations of acoustic guitars and enveloping electronic blankets.
An excellent example of an ambient attitude married to a descriptive vocation, capable of evoking, with measured progression, stylized representations: almost proposing images for brief narratives of imperceptible shifts in moods.
The material that informs it lives on subtle contrasts between abstraction and lyricism, between the delicate concreteness of beats and acoustic instruments and the electronic substance, fluid or rustling.
Discreet but intimate music, rarefied but layered, "minimal" yet capable of suggesting vastness. Like those of an aerial view: not too close to the sun, not too far from the ground.

It's a mild sun that warms "Eingya."
Its light is clear.
Listening establishes the sufficient distance from the noise to hear how many simple, pleasant details are tucked among the folds of the sounds.
If you sometimes find yourself desiring that distance, the album might be just right for you.