Cassette
In autumn 2024, Anthony Guerra and Mark Anderson sat on the banks of the Tukituki Awa - flanked on one side by the sleepy Haumoana beachside township, and on the other the local landfill. Aided by the slow imbibing of a bottle of wine, they set about recording this album directly to tape.
Gently lay your palm on the warmed belly of a flat stone, and skim your humming thoughts across the murmuring divide. The opposite shore is a shadowed encampment of slowly stirring shingle. Autumn effervesces and spreads in a calm blanket of diffused musk, looping around two shallow mouthfuls of sunshine. A stave is transcribed along the tilted stasis of shoreline - silence holds a seance in the clay and the river intones its folly in electric bursts, ingesting the fretted, lemony light, and unspooling in currents of slow memory.
