Eartheater, the brainchild of New York's singer-songwriter and visual artist
Alexandra Drewchin, who was half of Greg Fox's project
debuted on Metalepsis (Hausu Mountain, 2015) at the intersection of
ambient, psychedelia, folk and electronica.
The album opens in the alien soundscape of MacroEV, and explores the
radioactive drones of the ten-minute instrumental Orbit.
Meanwhile, the futuristic chanteuse intones the
deconstructed Hawaiian chant Homonyms, fronts the
mangled psychedelic rock Youniverse and croons the nocturnal ballad
Infinity in a Martian cabaret.
Nothing revolutionary but certainly the bold statement of an eccentric and spooky persona.
Just like its predecessor,
RIP Chrysalis (Hausu Mountain, 2015) wakes up in an
alien soundscape (Utterfly FX). However this time the journey has
a more humane feeling, from the classical aria RIP Chrysalis to the folk litany Humyn Hymn and to the Kate Bush-esque melodrama of
These are her most straightforward tunes yet.
But the emotional core of the album may reside elsewhere, in the
disintegrating Herstory of Platypus and in the shivering
If it in yin that are more typical of her deconstructionist technique.
It is generally a much more melodic affair than the first album.
It is also a more intense listening experience.
Irisiri (Pan, 2018), instead, opens with the sound of an harp
and the voice of an existential chanteuse in a deeply psychological
Classical instruments (and classical melodies) haunt the whole album:
a violin adornes the scruffy gallop and nursery rhyme of Inclined:
And the voice is often immaculate, no matter how decomposed the background, like in Switch, the closest thing to a pop ballad;
or in the magniloquent, thundering Bjork-ian melodrama C.L.I.T.;
or in the ethereal Trespasses, a mournful chant that could be recorded by convent nuns, and that slowly morphs into a desperate cry.
Alas, one third of the album doesn't seem the product of painstaking design
Too many songs sound simplistic and underdeveloped.
The mixtape Trinity (Chemical X, 2019)
betrays temptations of house music in Fontanel (produced by Dadras)
and Solid Liquid Gas (produced by Hara Kiri), but
the abstract soundscape of Prodigal Self (produced by Adrian "Acemo" Mojica) and
the syncopated beats of Pearl Diver (also produced by Acemo)
push her back into un uncharted sea of experimentation.
She occasionally sounds like a simpler
Kate Bush, for example in
Spill The Milk
amid trap beats and oneiric bells
(produced by Tony Seltzer).
closer to the pop song in Preservation (produced by Lars "Color Plus" Probert)
and High Tide (produced by Acemo).
The vocals have the quality of a Renaissance convent in
Lick My Tears (another Seltzer production)
It's a mixed bag but with enough ideas for two or three albums.
Phoenix - Flames Are Dew Upon My Skin (2020),
composed over a ten-week artist residency in Spain,
contains the orchestral elegy Below The Clavicle and little else.
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