Maryland-based ambient producer Stephen Philips is back under his "Deep Chill Network" imprint, with another album of slow, somnolent sound. Unlike "Deep Chill's" earlier album, Heart of the Tundra, this one has more recognizable notes, sometimes even in conventional harmonic sequences like the notes of a major triad or fifths. But there isn't any melody here, nor did Philips intend there to be. Almost all of this album is done in series of single synthesizer notes, soft and mostly low-pitched, sustained and flowing, without any rhythm or percussion. This is ambient in the original sense that Brian Eno, its inventor, wanted it to be: background music purely for the purpose of setting a mood, which would not intrude into what the listener was doing. The Eno influence is noticeable here. This album is "audible wallpaper," and its mood is mild, though it has a couple of slightly ominous moments. If you are looking for "musical content" in this album, you won't find it. What you will find is a soothing hour and a quarter of quiet sound, suitable for non-strenuous activities which require sonic serenity.
I love jazz because it is in my blood. It is the only original American art form. It is sacred. The greatest musicians are jazz artists.
I was first exposed to jazz in 1961 listening to my father's records of Duke Ellington, Billy Strayhorn, Count Basie, Nat King Cole, Ben Webster, Coleman Hawkins, Lester Young.
I met Sonny Stitt, Wayne Shorter, Branford Marsalis, Joey Calderazzo, Michael Brecker, Cannonball Adderley, Walter Booker, Dave Liebman, Joe Lovano, George Benson, Mike
Stern, Stanley Turrentine, Billy Harper, Skip Hadden, Charlie Haden.
The best show I ever attended was Joe Lovano with Soundprints at the Wexner Center in Columbus Ohio in 2014.
The first jazz record I bought was Miles Smiles.