Welcome to Space… complete with asynchronous chiming bells and a calm, soothing voice that sounds like a tranquilizer ad from 1962. You have anxiety; Samora has rain sticks. You are lost in the world and your soul needs a reset, Samora has cellos. You wake up, lit with immenseness. Samora offers spare spoken word poetry.
I was drawn to this longish EP by the title; if you read it correctly it sounds like Chthulu’s brother in law. Inside we find a dark, yet arty world, and the band consists of Italian Post-something composer Enrico Marani and Canadian Cellist Christine Hanson. Enrico has worked with a long roster of other artists, most unknown outside of Italy. He’s either that good, or can’t hold a job. Ms. Hanson specializes in the cold, distant, ambient sound that flows from nether climes like melting icecaps, and I assume she’s the voice reading the ultra minimalist poems each of these three cuts centers upon. Around her flows semi-musical intelligence; Samora lies somewhere between New Age and Rave and is as relaxing as falling asleep in a snowdrift.
I can’t say this is good for background while doing deeply intellectual tasks, but give it a chance and you will subsume under its calmly unexpected dissonance.