Last year was a pretty good year for music. I know this because every month for the past 15 months, I’ve had to narrow down my choice of what to spend my music budget on: I never make it through my to-buy list.
Alexander Tucker has been on my list for months – ever since I heard Red String and instantly fell in love. It’s indicative of Dorwytch, but not to the point where the album’s so samey you get bored. It’s too fresh and breezy for that – like a picnic on a summer’s day, but minus the tweeness, ants and strawberries.
Dorwytch brings out a warmth and vibrancy from strings that almost makes me feel like I’ve never heard a cello before. It’s folksy without being cutesie – that same sort of mythical Olde England vibe that Amebix have been rocking lately. It could almost be the flipside to Sonic Mass‘s menace – the sun rays after the storm. It’s a melancholic Barrett-y Floyd without the madness or self-indulgence. It’s the realised potential of the last Thurston Moore album.
I discovered Dorwytch thanks to The Quietus, and their review phrases eloquently all the great technical reasons to love this album: the intricate layering of cello and percussion; the clever use of loop pedals and robust songwriting.
I have a simpler reason to love Dorwytch:
It’s f***ing magic.