Blue Eyes Of The March

For the two long, untitled pieces that make up Blue Eyes Of The March, Andrew Chalk peels fragile notes from a guitar and lets them shower into a lagoon of reverb. It’s not a unique approach for Chalk – you could argue that other albums, like 2005’s Vega, do something quite similar – but it’s testament to Chalk’s ear and heart that Blue Eyes Of The March is every bit as moving as prior albums. There’s something in the way he balances foreground and horizon that’s deeply affecting, allowing the music to lap at the listener’s ears, tickling you with hints of melodies while tones mingle and meander, off in the distance, like foghorns humming in slow-motion unison.