[Reviewed by: Iaha Crax]
There are acoustic ambient projects living at the edge of the underground, in an ambiguous surrounding resembling a dream state, and when you come across one of them the reward is even more tasteful. All the more when it comes to a monolithic presence of a pullulating nature, like in Seetyca’s case. Seetyca exists for more than 10 years and has released an incredible amount of records. Looking at the length of the album’s tracks – about 20 minutes each – I have prepared myself for the facilitation of the musical contact by some intricate novel reading.
The first song from “Deus Ex Machina” is “Strange Metallic Objects”, one that fascinated me because of the indifferent sense of mystery it textures around. Briefly, it sounded in the vein of dark space ambient intros, setting aside the black metal magma that would follow. Seetyca forges immaculate alien minimal drones from suspicious sources. It fringes a barren ambiance of deep space wilderness, inviting to a complete dive into the limitless void. The whole design of the sound is of a nebulous massive dynamic without progressive evolution, a multidimensional absorption (Vidna Obmana, Vinterriket, Paysage d’Hiver).
The music adapts in conformity with the sound source. “Deus Ex Machina [Part I]” is meticulously constructed from debris of noises, subsequently set free to find their appropriate mate, following the gravity imposed by their controller.
The third track is suitable for fine and worriless winter nights spent under shelter. A unisex choir is being looped up and down with the help of a low bass cadence; “An Angelic Machinery”, as is the title of the song, just as fit for a digital romantic poem which would echoe a Lamartine lament on some social network, over the lost traces belonging to one’s lover. Ruminative in form and soft at touch, the musical line whispers a peripatetic elegy.
“Deus Ex Machina” is pervaded by a wistful tone and yet it overhears domestic distresses touching a spectacular, macrocosmic melancholy. This feeling runs heavily on the final piece, “Deus Ex Machina [Part II]”. Seetyca composes in a phrase without punctuation, filling empty spaces or unavoidable breaks by drops of sparkling sounds, eventually absorbed into the crawling flux of cosmic freeze. The musical line here, as in the other pieces, hovers upon the listener and slowly pervades them with rapture and tranquility.
“Deus Ex Machina” was released in 2014 by Essentia Mundi, with cover and photography by Abbildung, the label owner who also releases dark ambient excursions under the same moniker. In Seetyca I have found an eremite of the cosmos, and am now eager to set onto a pilgrimage towards other caves where he shelters his music.