Melanie & Witch Of The Vale - All The Pretty Little Horses – a bewitching dream in the summer heat.
A record label from the shadows of time. Cleopatra Records has surprised me again. It's a strange label. It sometimes surprises. Melanie and the Witch of the Vale. Just one minute of your time. Almost two minutes. A very short composition.
But full of
magic. As if from the Age of Flowers. From the age of ancient dawn. And the
season of bloom. Everything is covered in shadow and the sands of time. Graves.
Candles. Ritual. And the shadows of the past come to life again. Like a
beautiful sunset you mistook for dawn. This is magic. Magic that came from the
past. And has penetrated the most modern civilization. Internet. Music
recording.
Music is
the witching hour. From the Age of Flowers. Preserving thousands of beautiful
sunsets. Resurrected into gothic music by candles and graves. The music is sung
like a ballad. But it's so strange, like a spell. It enchants you. And you
can't stop listening to it. Beautiful singing. With a bunch of effects. And a
strange golden visual imagery. Sunlight. As if everything is covered with a
veil. A translucent cloth with holes so that the sunlight can be seen. But also
to protect from the strong sun at the same time.
An
incredibly beautiful ballad. It sounds and looks like a dream. A bewitching
dream in summer. On the calmest hot day. Like a lullaby. With a piano. Such a
deep instrument. With keys. Which hold many lines of emotion. Some sounds. Wind
instruments. Like spirits. Shadows of the past. Like sand. And beautiful piano
strumming. Lots of interference, synth effects, electric ones, like
interference. And the vocals. As if someone is singing alone. And then it seems
like an echo. And a whole choir. It sounds like ancient magic. Like the
remnants of magic. Not dangerous anymore. Like a sunset after day. Beautiful, like
a dream.
Many
dreams. About horses. About summer. And yellow sand. There's also a grave. And
candles. And a piano. A beautiful voice. Slowly sings a lullaby. It has
vibrations. Up. And a slow voice. There are string instruments if you listen
closely. In places, there are echoes in the form of voices. And the voice seems
to change. But it continues to sing. Then the voice returns to what it was at
the beginning. And in places, several voices. The voice is interesting. But it
seems to tremble sometimes. Not from fear. But what method of transmitting
sound. Into consciousness. Through sound recording. Like vibrations in the air.
Like the air trembles on a hot day. An electric effect.
Something
incredibly beautiful sounds. With a strange visual component. Like looking
through a veil. Sand-colored. And a little purple at the beginning. Something
like old Hollywood, as it was in its golden age. And it was incredible. But you
haven't seen it. And you won't be able to understand it. Only an echo. Only
seen in a dream. Candles burning—a sign of a spell. Magic. Witchcraft. Perhaps
this is what witches' music sounds like.
The voice
sounds like it's coming from an old record player. From the early days of
recording, or several decades ago. A song about a white horse. White. A very
pure white. Which against a yellow background still looks white. It's a dream
about magic and witchcraft in the summer heat. Like a refreshing drink.
Strange and
beautiful, slow music. As if from another era. Where dreams and reveries are
constant. The music is very beautiful. As if there are many beautiful flowers.
But there are also graves. There is sadness in the melody. And the piano sounds
very beautiful and musical. A very light composition. Relaxed. Immersing
in sleep and reverie.
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