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Last year I stumbled upon the drone. The drone was hidden in a puddle I didn't see, and it was probably waiting for me. The puddle was deep, and when I got out I was all dirty. I think those stains will never go away.
So, I found out that the drone is the best when you need to translate a dead language, especially in the wee hours. It grabs you by the heartstrings and doesn't let you lose focus.
That said, I must admit that sometimes the drone loses its meaning, in its infinite repetitiveness. Sometimes it’s fascinating, sometimes tiresome. Always and in any case, stunning, and thank Buddha that there’s stuff like this. But this man, this Charlie Ford, truly takes you wherever he wants. Sacrificing duration for expressiveness, he will enchant you even if he doesn’t exceed an hour and a half of overdubs.
He doesn’t care. You will find everything in here, from the fantastic murmurs of a keyboard lowered by 28 octaves to the high-pitched screeches that bring so much joy to your sick ears. And the feeling. This is something I have never heard before: the heart in the drone. Short but intense tracks that truly warrant an active listening just like any other genre.
Moreover, it’s free.
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