The Prog Aspect Review

Adenine – Adenine | Mary Lattimore – Silver Ladders

Article by: Nick Hudson

For some months I had been waiting for the release of an experimental series of rich, multi-layered soundscapes created on a harp. Post-classical, ambient melodies with a watery theme evoking nature and nostalgia. An ode to the past and to the present, and the flow between them. Minimalist, melancholic and melodic. I’d heard just the smallest snippet of one song, and that wee bit of intrigue had me anticipating the full album with great impatience and excitement. Imagine my surprise, when not only did this long-awaited album arrive, but at approximately the same time another album by a different artist appeared – filling the same brief.

So, to begin with, we have Adenine. This is the ambient alter-ego of Scottish harpist Ailie Robertson. She has released plenty of more traditional harp fare under her own name, but this is her first ambient release – and the music is lush and beautiful. I’ve been listening to it and loving it since being introduced to it in March. Suffice to say, as suggested in my introductory paragraph, this is probably one of the releases I was most looking forward to in October. Adenine opens up with possibly my favourite track, Smirr (which Adenine’s Bandcamp page tells me is a Scottish word to describe a fine, drifting rain or drizzle). The sounds of this smirr are omnipresent in the track, and provide the most gorgeous accompaniment to the sounds of the harp. It’s the most effective use of precipitation as an instrument that I’ve ever encountered, and not at all the cliché that the sound of rain can often take in music.

The watery theme continues with Spindrift, and has a suitably weightless and breathy sound that perfectly evokes the swirling spray blown from creating waves. There’s a sensation of floating, and being carried along – being taken where the wind blows you. Apparently, spindrift in Scotland can also refer to the fine snow that is blown off hills in a similar way. So this is perhaps the intended meaning (though I can’t help but imagine the sea, rather than snow), as the following track is Flindrikin, which is one of (so I’m lead to believe) over 400 words the Scots have for snow. Strangely, a flindrikin is a light shower of snow, while this track feels considerably heavier, and crunchy. Aftak is an easing or lull in a storm, which only furthers the impression that Flindrikin may have been named somewhat ironically. Aftak lives up to its name, a beautiful and quiet oasis of minimalism. The watery theme returns with final track, and my second favourite after Smirr, Haar. A haar is a cold sea fog that is blown inland, but there’s nothing cold about this haar. It’s as perfect a closing number as Smirr was an opening number. This album was well worth the wait.

https://theprogressiveaspect.net/blog/2020/10/23/adenine-adenine-mary-lattimore-silver-ladders/