Voice Of The Eye — Seven Directions Divergent
Undeniably, there’s something new age there, though I’m not sure whether it’s the softish pink hue of the cover, any of the song titles (Om Shanti, Transformational Birth), or the lens flare effect the designer of the artwork loved just slightly too much. However, just as I fully expect this to be some synth venture (whoosh whoosh, bird song, whoosh, waves crashing, whoom), I read in the album credits that all sounds are, in fact, acoustic in origin – no synths used. Perhaps my expectations are off then.
Voice of Eye is the couple of Bonnie McNairn and Jim Wilson, who, if I am to believe them (no reason not to), take their inspiration from virtually anything, ranging from traditional Sanskrit chants to Euro pop and psychedelic rock, virtually anything – if not everything – indeed. Despite the sometimes odd and unexpected noted influences, Voice of Eye’s sound is fairly cohesive and conventional; it exists somewhere in the gray area between ambient, new age, psychedelic folk-rock and 80s TV soundtracks. Is this a gray area you find appealing? Maybe so, all the better for it. Yet I, personally, would rather not be found dead in that side of town, unfortunately.
The main problem with Seven Directions Divergent is that it hardly transcends the awfully kitsch and the ruefully health shop. Despite some less accessible sounds here and there, I’d been little surprised if the CD had been named Buddha Meditations or The Sounds of Nature or anything like the run-of-the-mill relaxation-slash-lounge-slash-meditation CDs commonly stocked by your local Zen Market. The majority of the album is filled by guitar and some non-synth but surprisingly synth-like waves of sound rolling in and out while heavenly (I guess this is what you would call them) female vocals, mainly, wail over them, straightforward 4/4 drums now and then running on in the background with your occasional drum roll, for good measure. The whole thing sounds as though it were recorded in the 70s by hippies-turned-Buddhists, halfway between a superficial mysticism and an amateur rock aesthetic.
It’s unfortunate, yet, the album oozes in an all too irksome way a sense of personal enlightenment (on the side of the musicians) mediated through an altogether unappealing sound tapestry, and if I am to feel awe, or joy, or amazement, or to feel inspired, I must regretfully say it is certainly not the case, and the emotion Seven Directions Divergent conveys is a frivolous wonder at the otherworldly, and if I am to feel anything I am slightly dumbstruck, slightly annoyed, slightly disappointed that things didn’t pan out after all.
As the CD ends, I experience my own moment of personal enlightenment, and I realise I must brush all the negativity off, and I pop out the CD, then throw it out, and feel very zen for a moment, and it feels good. Maybe I should write a song about it.