I took a long walk to a beach I can’t recall at Sydney’s Royal National Park. What I thought would be a brisk 10-minutes ended up being an hour, but I didn’t mind. A loose, grassy track with no signage telling you to go here or go there, I paved my way through burnt and blossoming shrubbery, and torn leafless trees that had twisted themselves into incredible shapes after god knows how long. It kept consistent, but every twist and turn seemed to present new subtle differences, like a bed of lucuscious plants, or particularly muddy terrain that left my shoes caked in dirt. Time seemed to pass in half speed, and I didn’t make it to the beach until Rapid Eye Movement’s final notes dispersed between my headphones.
Laying on this deserted beach for a couple hours, and embarking on the slow walk back to the car, all with this new Necks album accompanying the scenery, was one of the most beautiful experiences I’ve had with a record. Four pieces all running at exactly the pace they want to be, you get lost in the musings of the three members’ weaving harmonics and rhythms, subtle tonal shifts peppered throughout. This is organically-moving music that somehow never turns into them just flailing their arms about; seemingly deeply-improvised but always rooted in the core concept that sparked the piece in the first place. When you occasionally come-to, it can be chill-inducing. The wafting guitar feedback that warmly screeches through the scattered drums and plucked bass on Ghost Net, or the gentle looping of a cello bow halfway through Warm Running Sunlight; such a small detail that brings a completely new harmonic element to the piece. You’re never really waiting for something to happen when you’re listening to this, but every time even the smallest new detail is introduced, it feels like the piece has started anew.
I’ve been reflecting on this album over the past couple of weeks and why it had the impact it did. Beyond the musicality, the way The Necks’ choose to present their art feels very intentional. Performing live, two-completely improvised 45 minute pieces with a slight break inbetween. The studio albums range, but can often be a single hour-ish-long piece which moves in slight dynamics throughout. Broadly, The Necks’ work seems to invite you to slow down; take a breath, take a beat. Move at your own pace. Take the time to indulge in something and don’t feel like you’re misusing your time. Throw on that 80-minute song and let it ride out; let your mind wander where it wanders. Disquiet is all around us - take some time for yourself.