![]() And it maintains that sad, beautiful sensation throughout its length. Like Hilmar Örn Hilmarsson’s stunning soundtrack for Children of Nature or much of the Projekt Records stable, Sleeps with the Fishes is adept at taking what should be morose music and converts it into something resplendent. Perhaps “reflective” or “nostalgic” would be a better word. Yet I can’t really consider this music depressing. ![]() To be honest, I’m not sure why this album isn’t more claustrophobic than it actually is. And even the vocals have a sad, hushed element about them. It speaks through its haunting string arrangements (“Finally II,” “Finally I”), spectral guitars (“Suddenly I”), and the lush synth atmospherics that flow through the entire album. With the exception of a handful of tracks, this is primarily an album of haunting instrumental pieces, and yet it says more in those wordless 48 minutes than you’d expect. That’s why I’m more than willing to devote precious server space to Sleeps with the Fishes than to any hot, new releases from that latest underground wunderkind, simply out of the hope that one of you might decide to pick it up. But I’ve always believed that good music stands the test of time - that true music still has things to say for every generation that discovers it. Here at Opus, we’re not always “with it.” We don’t keep up with the trends too much, which explains why this particular review is of an album that came out over a decade ago.
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