Grouper - Shade

In the recent interview with the Wire, a connection is suggested between Liz Harris' music and the ocean, near to which she has lived for sustained periods of her life.  It's not such a radical suggestion given the imagery that has accompanied a substantial amount of her music, though on Shade it does feel as pronounced as ever. Interestingly enough, these nine songs, which clock in at a teasingly short 35 minutes (Harris has a way of manipulating space and time within her songs), are said to have been written at various points over the past 15 years. That's a large proportion of Harris' creative life spent next to the water, which gives reason for perhaps the most emotionally open and direct Grouper collection to date. If there was once The Man Who Died in His Boat, maybe Shade is the woman stood alone waiting on the shore? Some of the songs are foggy and embedded in static hiss, yet some are also unadorned and clear, like, say, Maxine Funke or how Chan Marshall used to. This is the Grouper sound, sculpted and weathered by the oceans and time, and something to be carried away on. As transportative and elemental as ever, but also somehow more personal and moving.