In New Zealand Maori mythology, the whale is said to be a guardian spirit who watches over his people at sea...

Fascinated by the underwater colors of the cover and knowing the talent of Lisa Gerrard, I purchased her latest work: Whalerider (4AD 2003) some time ago. A soundtrack of a film about which I knew (and know) absolutely nothing.
A quick listen seemed enough to set the album aside permanently.

But if it’s true that every music has its moment, today for me had to be Whalerider's turn.
Almost by chance it fell into my hands, and I decided to give the album a second chance, this time choosing to listen with greater attention, using headphones. It was a happy and surprising choice.
Indeed, the soundscapes Gerrard has crafted in Whalerider demand total absence of distractions and nearly absolute concentration.

The sounds of the sea, of the waves open the album, then you gradually immerse into the water. From the beginning, the synthesizers capture attention, creating a sense of suspension from time and isolation.
It's not at all easy to describe what happens.
But as the minutes pass, attention to the music becomes increasingly focused amongst echoes, voices, siren calls, tribal rhythms. The music is predominantly electronic, yet it presents elements that contrast possible monotony, for example, when Phil Pomeroy’s piano appears in "Pai Theme".

The atmospheres are dark, shadowy. The voice, surprisingly, is not a principal element, but blends homogeneously with the other sound components. The overall impression is that Lisa Gerrard has succeeded in Whalerider, as in other instances, to create a music that is out of time. Modern and ancient together.

A music not easy, spiritual, perhaps not for everyone, but always intensely fascinating.

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