From first listen, the swirling, metamorphosing introduction strains against its own form. It feels both agonizing and tender and beautiful and a lot of things... you guys, I'm feeling some feelings.
In this edit, words are sacrificed for the full splendor of his soundscape, and the emotion of the moment takes center stage in a way that feels so much more overwhelming than the original. This track is just half the length of the original and its sudden evaporation feels like the only way to end something so charged.
Maybe my music rut -- or at least my lack of recent discovery -- has stemmed from me listening exclusively (and adoringly) to Baths' recent album Obsidian. After reading the Pitchfork review, I've been thinking about the role of duality in regards to music and an artist's evolution; the idea of twin album or song feels challenging both practically and conceptually. Here, though, it really feels like we are hearing the other side to the original or maybe an alternate that is meant to replace it -- subjectively skewed in a way that is recognizable... but just barely.
But maybe I'm just reading into this. Lapalux does this to me. Listen and weigh in!