The ambient artist delivers some of his most immersive work yet.
For those who came to Nash's music thanks to his role in Gaussian Curve (where his sensibility found cosmic alignment with Gigi Masin and Young Marco), the unhurried, long-decaying piano chords of "Shell" will instantly feel warm and familiar. But whereas Gaussian Curve always sought the beatific, Nash isn't afraid to let in shades of doubt and darkness. The scraped prayer bowls that accompany that piano bring to mind that time just after sunset, when fading light is suddenly consumed by shadow. At crucial moments in the music, voices suddenly arise in the mix, adding an alluring new wrinkle to Nash's productions. They are wordless but evocative moments, such as when breaths arise amid the eerie metallic tones of "Flower" that add a flush of warmth. On the too-brief "Perfume Dream," that voice wafts over synth warbles, bowed strings and glockenspiel, suggesting that Nash could easily explore minimalism.
As it is, Make A Wilderness contains Nash's most breathtaking pieces to date. "Trees Bearing Fruit" uses bowed strings, buzzing keys and harmonizing voices to make one of the most ineffable moments in his catalog. While most of Nash's work shows that ambient music can be emotionally effective at pop song durations, "Language Collapsed" spans nearly ten minutes, one of his longest compositions yet. Nash adds glockenspiel to achingly slow swells of guitar, carefully shifting toward something light and radiant. It's not a big statement, but it shows in a single piece his gift for suspending time.