Nest - Body Pilot

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Genre: Ambient, Drone, Experimental, Abstract
Label: Serein

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A fluttering “Stillness” dims the light; three notes turn six, over restful, droney string breaths; oh-so delicate tinkering lays soft quilt, easing vex. But try as you might to find its heart, the sense of loss, and icy depressiveness pervading the nooks and crannies of Huw Roberts’ and Otto Totlands’ pianism, becomes lavishness restricted, life jacket for low mood, conceptually meeting the flight theme they’ve adapted in minimalist repertoire. Played three times, Nest’s “Body Pilot” became a record I’d seemingly known all my life, like a catchphrase that existed subconciously; Mr. Chips returning to haunt one particular moment, penetrating. “Music without pretence”, in their past words.

Remaining homebound, sentimentally fearful of non-catharsis, “Charlotte” from “Retold”, platonic contrast to this 10′. “The engines are cut and we glide silently into the white”, is what Huw and Otto propose of “The Dying Roar” when the woodwind and brass exclude themselves, into their hallmark jigsaw-piece piano. It’s no wonder Hauschka is billed for this particular series. With modern musicians, environment, like Nest’s, plays an output discriminator, prohibiting you from saving a workload, or integrating a certain source for dubbing. In hindsight of Nest’s development: the hugely successful netlabel EP, and a comparatively sold-out-direct album, while “Koretz’s Meteor” leaning heavier on Totland’s synthesizer drone of Deaf Center reverie – a glowing proposition is harder to realise – how do you follow up lauded efforts in as timeless a manner?

Nest’s answer is seemingly to forget the premise of time, making it a continuum of last efforts, not a conscience-burdening approach that makes them think “what if I’d just done this”. Otherwise, minutes may go very slow normally, or lightning bolt anxiously. By retracting sensations that apply to a traditional chronology, too, not to mention having a loyal fan base, critical spikes, both internal and external, dissolve. Objectively so because the work is high calibre enough all the time. Even the Billy-no-instruments drone lapse of “The Ultimate Horizon” manages to escape throwaway straitjacket, sub bass undercutting the tinsel field recordings that metamorphosise, overlay and ebb. Part three of the “Seasons”vinyl and digital download catalogue on Serein, “Body Pilot” is the perfect edition to the series. It’s questionable depending on your entry point what you’ll rate higher – this or past Nest. One thing’s for certain though: you could do a lot worse than sampling your own camera, catching Huw and Otto’s flight further from base.

Review from Fluid Radio