
Yann Novak — Meadowsweet (Redux)
Twenty years of reflection. Twenty years of introspection. Twenty years of processing. As Yann Novak's Meadowsweet hits its twenty-year anniversary, its new remaster marks a more bittersweet commemoration than the surface celebration would suggest . The original album was recorded in the wake of Yann's mother's passing, a way for him to work through his loss, finding solace in his art and the exploration of sound, meaning, and self. Meadowsweet (Redux) not only marks twenty years of Yann's work, but also of the loss he suffered, making this remaster even more poignant and moving.
Meadowsweet captures a time, place, essence, and mood, all of which is resurrected and rekindled in the Redux remaster. Originally recorded in a single take from field recordings, Meadowsweet's composition/performance was a moment in time that mirrored Yann's real life. Recordings serve as memories, their processing serving as the brain opening and converting them to sound, and the resulting output stepping in as emotion. While field recordings are concrete, memories are ethereal and nebulous, no matter how strongly they're felt. Everything is an impulse left up to interpretation, which can change with any physical or mental situation at hand. Meadowsweet captures this as well, with its droning, warbling layers shimmering and oscillating like the signals themselves dancing in the listener's ears. And, like the events that cause memories, the album is the product of a singular occurrence, recorded in on take, marking the moment as an expression more than a composition. Interestingly, this live feed approach led to a technical issue hitting the tape, a momentary glitch in the computer, but its presence speaks to much more; are memories complete, fluid, and true or is there fragmentation, spaces, and biased inferences filling the gaps? Though, personally, I would like to think that it was Yann's mother letting him know that she was still with him and although grief and loss are overwhelming, taking a break and allowing it to pass by for a moment is as important as holding onto the memories. Philosophical waxing aside, Meadowsweet flows somberly, with hints of both darkness and light, moving continuously forward. Its duality all present on its softly vacillating layers, sonic strata that can almost be seen flowing past. Recorded in one take, the eight parts blend together seamlessly to give the listener a fully immersive experience, full of contemplation, reflection, and reverence.
Recorded in one take during a period of immense grief and loss, Meadowsweet has a twentieth anniversary remaster that reinvigorates the original recording and brings about a call for listeners to take a moment for retrospection and reflection. What is a memory, and is it merely relegated to one time and place? Is it flowing and evolving? Now that we're two decades later, how does it compare to what it once was? While Novak's album was a very personal recording, the atmosphere and emotion can be embraced by all, and it's recommended that we all take that time to reflect and muse on memor
