After finishing the hardwood floors in this room and setting it up for entertaining guests, I felt like it was a dead ringer for "music parlor." I could imagine an old Victrola propped up in the corner, filling the well-lit space with tart crackle and tone. Ruhr Hunter is definitely something I'd like to hear coming out of a Victrola horn. It is so unusual. Ritualistic mantras or spells cast across long expanses of "time."As with all Glass Throat releases the packaging is unreal. Oversized and impeccable design sense. It's sort of like leafing through an animal tattooed with runes and iridescent scripture. It instantly set the tone for us as we tried to decipher its contents while the sounds cascaded throughout the room. Xris heard an owl, and then the sample began hooting to the beat. He criticized the creator for enslaving this bird's call to a beat, which wouldn't ever really happen. But in Ruhr Hunter's world it does happen. Chet Scott gets the animals playing with him like a moss-covered pied piper. Rain starts falling, we hear thunder. We forget about impossibilities. We relax. And then Hannibal storms our small walled city. We could hear his army in the distance, approaching. When we saw the torches and the elephant phalanx, we lost our minds.
Later, after we were conquered, their ministry entered the city and cleansed us of our false gods with a smokey ritual. Worshipping God by another name is better than dying for a strict interpretation of it, so we caved and bowed. Our new lives would be different and we would have to re-interpret freedom and our relationship to Nature...
Then we remembered Suzanne had cooked strawberry rhubarb pie, and we descended the stairs.
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