Listen to Jacob Israels latest album Marchlands
Jacob Israel has shared his work and his sense of self with us. In what feels like a long hiatus from his solo freedom in production, Israel takes us to the Marchlands, confiscating boundaries and reassessing limiting space in the music sphere.
The narrative falls on an absence of subjectivity. These notes know no other anthems but their own, galloping with surrealism and complexity and living between two realms. The placement of each track becomes a collective. Not in the way in which is something is complete, but rather infinite. Israel says the textures and style were all chosen to complement this state of uncertainty and to convey a feeling of transition. This I can feel well. One moment it is the morning dew waking up to its sunset after a gloomy dense sub –wave of bitter cold. Another moment, I am transported to a beach in a far corner of a space with a small town temperament, where the pebbles under my feet croak and rock as I step towards the rattling of the ocean. I step sideward and bathe in its ability to tear me from one part of myself to the next. I am here, all of me, watching my reflection from the dessert mirage. I am there, all of me, drowning in my dimness. I am now, asleep, and watching the echoes plays my body in harmony.
Jacob Israel’s soundscapes fear not the dark of the night or the ache of the loss, but rather extract them. He has invented sorrow in sound. He allows the listener to enter a tonal space of immense continuity. He opens the fluidity of the divine and invites you in. Marchlands is about the transience of the body and the way in which we build it up to protect, feel and immerse. It shows us that the human form is so fallible, the human being is so fragile and the humanity in us connects us.