If the mysterious name and beautiful logo don’t suck you in, the ambient mood of the music surely will. An Evening Redness are debuting their self-titled first release February 25 via Transylvanian Records, and in short, we’re into it.
“When I was 11 or 12, I flew to Arizona to live with my grandmother for a month,” says composer producer Brandon Elkin, reflecting. “We drove from Sierra Vista northwest through all of the major sights of the state: the Sonoran Desert, the Petrified Forest, up trails through mountains, and down rock flume water slides in canyons. Up through Tucson and Phoenix, across vast stretches of desert and mountains that my little Midwestern-born mind could barely comprehend, finally landing at the Grand Canyon.
“To say that sense of awe and isolation is something I chased throughout the production of this album is an understatement. The land, the stories, and the violence perpetrated within as described by McCarthy in Blood Meridian have tangled up in my memory of the desert sun and dust and landed us here, together, treading in disorientation over frozen peaks and crusted, dried up lake beds.”
Such a poetic description of the music is fitting for both the imagery and the sound, as An Evening Redness conjure up a desert-dwelling American soundscape that fuses the best elements of drone into a soaring masterpiece.