Spring gives way to summer. A grooving guitar line glides over the steady rhythm of snare and splashing symbols Like a bird of prey, it soars with swift elegance, circling, stretching the full breadth of its powerful wings, ready to swoop. The wind ruffles feathers, drones in a pair of small ears, feeding a racing pulse and intensifying the acrobatic display. Exhilarated, overlooking the plains and the sea, there is much pleasure surveying this boundless domain. “Purer” emanates calm. The hunt, the meal, already a fading memory. But the satisfaction remains. The waves timidly lap against the shore. The submerged synths swirl in the gentle currents at the water’s edge. Guitars shimmer in the retreating haze. The day is done…

The churning drone of Empty Shapes could have been Carlton Melton. Almost. Then rolling percussion marks the gentle footfalls of this procession. We are led away from that thought through the long grass. The partially buried saxophone peaks out with the tip of its nose and entices deeper and deeper into this exotic melee. Seductive, hypnotic and absorbing without any sense of repetition. Potent. The cyclic “Hell of a Night“ is loaded with heavy tones and distorted snarls. Strange percussion rattles at the core. A screw loose. The laidback “Lord” reverberates with the same low-end bass, slowed down, acid-drenched guitars, tripping saxophone and lazy echoing vocals. Well and truly sedated.

www.carltonmeltonmusic.com & emptyshapes@gmail.com