The album opens with “Monowai Sky,” which eases in, as with a message from beyond our vision, beyond our skies. And soon the music takes on a greater force, a stronger, more prominent voice, or message, with some deeper tones, touching on something eternal within, eternal and active. And then it is as if there is a dialogue between the two, which takes over the air, the sky, as we look up, witnesses to this celestial dialogue. Soon it feels almost like a dance, taking place all around us, not just above us, and we get caught up in its motion. The pace increases briefly before the track’s conclusion. That is followed by “Reflections.” There is something both contemplative and soothing in the guitar work here, expressing short thoughts, as if to test the waters, to see where things might lead. And one thought leads to another, and soon there is a flow. Nothing tentative at that point. The music looks outward, while learning something from within. And with whatever knowledge is received, things then can slow down. The final section is particularly pretty.
With “Ghosts Of Flight,” green and pink lights flutter gently across the sky, a fleeting beauty. If we close our eyes, we’ll miss it, for things are changing, developing. But if we look with a serious eye, we can catch glimpses of the past, for voices are within those lights, moving across the sky from somewhere familiar to the unknown. And maybe, just maybe, for just a moment, we can travel with those voices and see something of the future too. Those lights, understanding that we are true witnesses, find the power to pause and remain with us, to speak to us in the only language available to them, showing us what they think we wish to see. It’s a magical moment. What of it will we keep with us? “Dam Right” is the first of two tracks to play with the words “dam” and “damn.” As it begins, it is already in motion. There is something serious in the sound, something demanding in its repeated theme. It pauses to make sure we are with it, to make sure we are giving it what it requires. And then it relaxes, carrying us with it. The music slows then, as it climbs and then falls. Ah, but the beauty continues, not faltering.
With “Chill,” we enter a darker space. It is like a bell sounds, signaling us, calling us to some ceremony. The air is thicker here, alive with intensions, buzzing with knowledge, yet soon we find ourselves soothed by it. We relax, comforted by the weight of ancient voices. We can let go, for whatever will be has already been. Various voices rise and fall, as if carried on a wind. There is a slight pause before a more somber tone is felt. We soon feel ourselves floating in the eternal, ourselves but a small part of it. That’s followed by “The Lake Is Another Sky,” a title I love. We’ve all looked into the clear water of a lake to watch the sky, and felt like we could fall into heaven, into the clouds, that we could be immersed in sky. And even in the soft ripples of water is the movement of the universe. We feel that in this music. The motion, the soothing motion, and the beauty of the earth meeting the sky, the light dancing near us. We can touch it, change it. Ah, when else can we so affect the sky? Interestingly, there is also a sense of time ticking away, especially in the second half. At some point both the lake and the sky will cease to be. And for a moment near the end we sense a possibly dark future.
As “WFD” begins (and, no, I’m not sure what “WFD” stands for), a light shines toward us, again and again. And then something more intense appears, something tangible. But soon we can feel its beauty, even if there is a great weight to it. It isn’t long before a lighter source appears, urging its own dance before the heavier steps return. Is there a hint of lament within those steps? This is an intriguing track. It takes on a power to combine all elements, everything converging. That’s followed by “Give A Dam,” the second track whose title plays on “dam” and “damn,” beginning like the slow heartbeat of the sky. Soon we experience bright lights that have physical weight, and they lead to a softer space, a space open for thoughts, for hopes, for desires. A single voice gets excited, takes on a certain pace, before slipping back into the fold, into the larger sound. The sound gets heavier, echoing in some great hall. Things become stranger as a light is struck repeatedly, the ripples felt, and sound becomes twisted, fragmented, bitten off. Until that light is struck again. This track releases its grip on us at the end.
“Sunset At 10 PM” makes me think of my childhood. I loved those summer months growing up in New England, when the sun wouldn’t set until what was a fairly late hour for us kids. There was a magic in those hours before the sun went down, like we were getting away with something. And there is a sort of magic at the beginning of this track, sliding in, playing with our senses, with our expectations, like a large firefly sliding past us, and disappearing just as quickly, as they do. Reappearing, disappearing again. A voice from above seems to play with us, to take pleasure in our pleasure. (On Bandcamp, the song is titled “Sunset At 10 a.m.,” by the way.) That’s followed by “Ominous Mass,” which feels hesitant at first, tentative steps in a place where wind seems to hold some sway, and each movement is echoed in the great hall where we find ourselves. We can catch glimpses of something through the haze, through the smoke, something timeless, something that promises to hold secrets, knowledge, if only we could crack the code, be accepted in its arms. There is an intensity, a rumbling. Have we offended the gods somehow, broken into a place where we are not expected or wanted? Have we interrupted something? The wind is what is left, busy and maybe angry, buzzing at the end.
“Thunder” presents short messages with breaths in between
at the beginning, and then things begin to flow, to touch different places of
the sky and the earth. Light plays across, and against, a greater darkness. A
power is there, striking, thumping, and we want to seek shelter. The gods have
been angered, it turns out. Is this their voice, or ours in response? For there
is a rumbling within us too, isn’t there? And yet something lighter soothes us
just before the drive forward and downward. The disc’s final two tracks are
listed as bonus tracks, though I still don’t understand what is meant by a
bonus track on an initial release. Anyway, the first is not an original composition.
It is an interesting variation of “Auld Lang Syne” (misprinted as “Aul Lang
Syne” on the CD case), a very brief rendition reaching down to us from the sky.
And the last track, “Hiding Under Clouds,” features vocals, another unusual
step in the series. Clouds are mentioned in the lyrics, from the very first
line, “Cloudy days are here again.” There is a kind of folk vibe to this
one, and it includes the sound of birds. “She’s no longer by my side/But I
could see her sitting there/She’s hiding under the clouds.” There is
something perhaps frightening in the repeated line, “There’s a shadow over
my life,” but this song is about the sun, and so offers hope.
CD Track List
- Monowai Sky
- Reflections
- Ghosts Of Flight
- Dam Right
- Chill
- The Lake Is Another Sky
- WFD
- Give A Dam
- Sunset at 10 PM
- Ominous Mass
- Thunder
- Auld Lang Syne
- Hiding Under Clouds
Clouds 2 was released on February 1, 2026.
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