Peter Jefferies
Substatic

New Zealand has always been a breeding ground for very unique works. It almost seems that the artists from this remote place have a peculiar visionary capacity. Perhaps it's due to the scents and the atmosphere of this still largely uncontaminated place, brimming with an ancestral spirit, but the fact remains that their music emanates these sensations.
Peter Jefferies is a genuine New Zealander. After founding "This Kind Of Punishment" with his brother Graeme more than twenty years ago, he chose to continue his path as a solo artist. The album in question is relatively recent (1998), and perhaps represents the pinnacle of his career. Jefferies isolates himself and composes a devastating portrait of loneliness, playing all the instruments by himself.
Try to imagine hypnotic drum rhythms à la Neu!, minimalist piano phrases, and reverberations of ambient music for guitars, mixed with a vaguely psychedelic flair and an almost transcendent, delirious musical sensibility, with a mood that is sometimes apocalyptic: "Substatic" is all of this.

The entire work is permeated by a vein of deep pessimism, almost seeming to represent a metaphor for pain and chaos. The low-fi recording (per New Zealand tradition) contributes to rendering the landscape even more cryptic. It's like being in the presence of the exact opposite of cosmic music. Where there the sense of the music was "ascensional," here it is underground, disturbed, and indecipherable. This portrayal of the depth culminates in the last of the five tracks, "Three Movements," a 16-minute suite that encapsulates all of Jefferies' philosophy. A dark journey into the human condition, worthy of standing alongside the great masterpieces of rock.

Challenging and difficult to categorize album, it has the indisputable merit of honoring art, not being tied down by the petty commercial spirit.
If today it has passed unnoticed, tomorrow who knows, someone might even canonize it.