In the interest of shooting myself in the foot as fast as possible I'm gonna cover a couple things at once.To boot, one thing is already massively unpopular and the other gets little-to-no recognition. It's really the combo of the two that I'm in love with.These two great tastes that I love together?
Dark winter mornings and Akira Yamaoka.
Wait, why are you running away? Hear me out.
I know it sounds nuts, especially in the midst of the darkest part of the winter. The stretch after the holidays is, as my fiance points out, is nothing but endless winter.
No fun days off. No big party holidays. No reprieve. Just endless dark and cold.
Thing is, I love waking up in the morning and making the (brief) walk to the bus station in the dark while listening to Akria Yamaoka.
"Who is that?" you ask, quite rightfully so.
"An awesome musician" I answer gushingly. A composer whose long and varied career has wrapped around another of my loves, Silent Hill.
Silent Hill is a series of freaky deeky video games that elicit most of their renowned disturbing moments and scary reputation from the mood and ambience they present. I won't delve into detail in this post, I'll ramble on about my long love affair with those particular games another time. The music, though...
As I said, the series is heavily reliant on mood and ambience, a significant portion of which stems from Yamaoka's contribution. His soundtracks to these games go one of two ways - either industrial and machine-like grinding beats and crunching guitars, or trip hop and down-tempo subdued pieces that amplify the effect of introspection and solitude on the listener. Admittedly I am far more in love with the softer aspects of his writing. I find them absolutely haunting and eerie in the best way possible. Slow and soft drums and loops, melodies from a weeping guitar.
Here's my small cheat: I make a playlist in itunes of just the more ambient atmospheric pieces. Keeps me from the shock of NIN-style blasts of noise as I'm still waking up. Mix this with the quiet contemplation that presents itself from walking to work in the dark and you've got a serene way to start the day. The sky is still dark, almost purple. Streetlights glow that odd orange tone that reflects off the snow. It's quiet around, no noise but the occasional car passing. Haunting, really.
Granted it may be my love of horror movies, a long-fostered love of solitude and personal reflection or just a skewed sense of musical appreciation, but I am in love with starting my day as though I'm in the peaceful opening to a very peculiar movie. Long before any unpleasant plot twists.
Makes me sound like a monk, perhaps.
Point is I love this composer's work and the je-ne-sais quoi air of a quiet January morning.
