Jason Lescalleet

The Pilgrim

★★★★

Everything I've been listening to has been really great recently. This is a very heavy and somber record by Jason Lescalleet. Part of the newer cohort of abstract electronic music, he's known for working with people like Graham Lambkin and Kevin Drumm. This class of individuals have been creating intense and vivid textures in their music with the help of outside sources, mostly field recordings. That concept is also utilized here but not in the usual manner.  Summed up, this album is about the relationship Jason had with his father, and a sort of memorial in remembrance of his passing. It's not easy to create an artistic project like this for anyone, in any medium or platform. Especially not in the niche and sometimes conceptual subgenre that Lescalleet resides in. But he does it beautifully and in great effect.

The album starts off with a spoken introduction bye Lescalleet describing how his father felt about his music, and his support for Lescalleet, which I can only imagine was important to him. His father vividly remembers something from his childhood through the music created by his son, and one section he says, sounded like "corrupted wind chimes". The album then transitions to a ten minute drone that almost sounds like a "moment of silence" for remembrance. It's very bare and nonexistent at times, but makes you reflect inwards. There's a sense of tension too, but it's not palpable enough for it to take over the piece. 

Then you are sent all the way into a rough and unintelligible recording between Lescalleet and his father, their last conversation. It's very haunting and leads into the main piece, "The Pilgrim". This more than an hour long piece travels from different regions of the emotional spectrum. On one hand, it begins very serenely almost like standing inside of a Buddhist temple. Then those wind chimes come in, like an omen, it's that one connection. The echoing and density build up for about an hour. Then it's released; the culmination of sorrow, anger, confusion. Lescalleet displays all these feelings the only way his music allows, through the use of noise. And it's a piercing, harrowing noise that is not easy to forget. 

The piece ends calmly with Lescalleet's child singing a song for her dying grandfather. It's familiar and comfortable, and a reminder of what this is all about, no matter how abstract the music is. It's easy to forget sometimes how close our relationship with death is, and how we're the only known creatures who are self conscious of our own demise. Sometimes it can be overwhelming, but in a case like this it's more humbling. This time we have is greatly joined by being with the company of others; friends, family, anyone. It's not easy to let people go, to be forgotten. But everyone lets go of everyone, even themselves. 

Favorite Song: The Pilgrim