The Soft and Sorrowful Poetics of Hesychia's Involuted Departure
There's something poetic and soft about Patrick Norris' Hesychia. But it's also laced with obfuscation and subterfuge.
On the surface, there is a desolate landscape of industry's wrath. Yet upon careful inspection, really diving into the minutia of the minimalist guitar instrumentals within these sixteen-odd minutes, what emerges is sweet like the best poetry written in moments of self-reflection, genuflection, and release.
This album adopts the stillness of the Byzantine Rite and the Eastern Orthodox Church without delving into the politics of religion. It's a concept album written and made in the honor of a dead friend. Norris is a poet in the classic pen-and-paper sense. But here, solely on guitar with the aid of a delay pedal, he transcends the written word and evokes a true feeling of nostalgia and aloneness.
Opener "Floating Bridge" establishes the architecture of the ride before delving into "Machine Park" which opens up the floor for the longest track, soft and meticulous "Vauxhall Gardens." The final nine expand upon feelings of loss with "Tract Houses" and the echo-y blues of "Glass Tuned Hours" before closing with the crescendo-laden gasp of "City Leaving (Andrew Howard)."
This is, like all good poetry, a snapshot of a moment, a recording of a feeling, meant to stand alone and never be duplicated on stage. It is pure and simple. And it is honest, which is what separates the good from the bad. It is what makes us human. To acquire a copy, state your feelings in the comments section below and we'll put you in contact with the responsible parties.