primavera may lifts you from ordinary life: the apparition of rain clouds and droplets blur into a soft curtain over the world as the whir of delicate hi-hats glisten in a muted sunlight. imagine a moment where the most inanimate inhabitants of the earth ghost dance before disappearing into nothing. makker s spoken vocals add a crestfallen hue to the vanished. she monotonously recites her regret: -everything is dancing / everything is crying / it can feel so heavy / before it has begun- a denser, yet similarly sorrowful song, before i fall asleep is sculpted around nimble strings and webbed by breathy vocals, remaining slightly suspended, as if levitating just above the verdant ground. halfway through primavera april, the track is transformed by acid showers, a lead synth lifts off to reveal a ravaged landscape, diametrically opposing the previous peace. the ambient acceptance snow closes primavera with the self-fulfilling prophecy of its theme: that snow will fall, and the world will go to sleep. conjuring the surreality of renkas childhood landscapes, for all its reverie, primavera always orients itself toward the responsibilities of the present. there is an acknowledgment that all day dreams must lead back to reality, that all journeys must be fulfilled.
