
Rushab Nandha - Tear [Dragons Eye - 2025]Soft and delicate, but also proud and strong, Rushab Nandha's Tear plays with the subtle juxtaposition of sound with a focus on the connection of the pieces versus what makes them different. As humans, we are naturally tuned to picking out patterns, and by virtue of this, we can see when something doesn't belong. Nandha doesn't reinforce what the listener is already doing in their mind, rather, he takes the opportunity to reinforce the sounds, bridging the gap, uniting these pieces that seem to be disparate upon first listen. This allows the seven tracks on Tear to move forward without visible propulsion, giving the audience many facets to latch onto, letting their ears unpack the dulcet tones within. Tear appears ambient on the surface, but pigeonholing it as such would do the album a disservice. Rife with tender piano melodies, the album plays two sides, much like the cover would suggest, and juxtaposes these with thicker, oscillating drone layers. Although lighter and very accessible as well, their structure plays very differently than the pianos, offering up a duality like observed with light (wave/particle). Opening with the title track, one quickly sees Nandha's approach, shifting from light to "dark" (comparatively so), fluctuating like the subtle oscillations in the interlaced lines. Tear moves with an almost unheard propulsion, akin to meandering, but with purpose. Reverse delays and interesting envelopes help to shape sounds and change sonic directions. The sharp fluctuations of "Amnesia" function as a rudimentary beat, but also some Beatles-esque nostalgic warmth ("Revolution No 9" for me). Shimmering like both air and water, Tear floats onward with tracks like "Womb" and "Itra" acting as a robust, ambient backbone to the work. Less about juxtaposition and more about unity, the pieces work in tandem, oppositely, to fill in the spectrum and give strength and further depth to the album. As something rises, so it must fall. "Flame" and "Flutter" end the work by reinforcing the motifs from the beginning, bookending the album deftly and delicately. Pianos moving more to the front help to remind the listener of the journey they were on and their familiarity anchors the work in their mind.
Pianos and drones mingling in ones mind, Tear is a well thought out work that uses its softness as a baseline to pit textures and tones against each other, and allow them to grow together, focusing on their similarities, not differences. This approach bolsters the layers and lines of the album, with Rushab Nandha's skillful arrangement and production making the album sing and shine. Only dark by contrast, Tear's other half helps to show the duality of light, sound, and by extension, everything, really. All one has to do is look or listen, and a beautiful connection to that which is different is right before them. While this may not have been Nandha's intent, such a statement is healing in a world wrought with division and strife. For more     Paul Casey
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