Rupert Lally : Timelapses

Composer Rupert Lally is no stranger to musical exploration. His work emanates depth and light, towing the line between film score meticulousness and deep dives into electronic bliss. The Swiss by way of UK composer and musician makes musical works that ask for your attention, but can still be a gorgeous soundtrack to reading in the living room on a overcast day. But if you close off the world a bit and let yourself go inside his music you will find many layers and sonic delights.

Besides an extensive list of works self-released, Lally has released some amazing albums with Spun Out Of Control for the past couple of years. The Prospect, Where The Dark Speaks, and Maniac’s Almanac are three amazing horror score-themed albums Rupert Lally has dropped in the last couple of years.

His newest is with Waxing Crescent Records and is a hell of a ride. Timelapses is a series of modular and synth improvisations that Lally then added strings to. The results are a musical journey unlike anything you’ve heard. A grand symphony of the synthetic and organic.

“Close your eyes and it’s easy to imagine Rupert on stage with a full orchestra behind him, giving the listener a perfect balance between electronics and acoustics. Lally continues on his musical journey of providing impressive and varied projects to his pretty remarkable back catalogue.“

That is a quote from Waxing Crescent Records Bandcamp page describing Timelapses, and I think it’s a pretty accurate description. Something like “Tidal Ebb” that arrives midway through the album feels like a some grand cosmic orchestra. I’m reminded of Colin Stetson’s work on The Color Out Of Space. There’s a depth and density to the sound here that feels both immensely close and light years away at the same time. There is a coalescence of both chaos and composition. Album opener “This City Wakes At Dusk” sounds like fluttering thoughts from some galactic deity dreaming up existence on some other plane. Lally’s mixture of electronic improv and strings comes together perfectly, giving the impression we’re hearing a grand galactic symphony.

Elsewhere “A Silver Light Hits The Burning Sands” easily rides a crest between Hans Zimmer, Johann Johannsson, and Edgar Froese. A monolithic sound that gently touches the atmosphere while still feeling grounded with us mortals. Album closer “Day Turns Into Night” floats along gently in a haze of melancholy and mystery before locking into a rhythm Tangerine Dream would’ve gladly used in the 80s. This is sonic perfection, and a grand way to end this journey.

Rupert Lally continues to up himself with each release. I think Timelapses might just be his best album yet; it’s intellectual yet loose, free-floating, and locks into the spirit of those early 70s German electronic music pioneers. It also has moments of great subtlety and contemplative beauty you only get from the best film scores. For my money, this is a ride worth taking.

8.6 out of 10