The breadth of colour [ B O L T ] elicit from their minimal set-up (drums and a pair of basses) is frankly astonishing. Over the course of its 77 minutes, ( 0 5 ) slides from neurotic fuzzy night-time krautrock to dreamy summer sun drone as if it were the easiest thing in the world. A soundtrack without a film, the record takes the listener on a fantastical journey that will be unique for everyone.
A casual freedom infuses the music, but scratch beneath the surface to find that everything has been placed meticulously, merely giving the impression of that air of abandon. The care, precision, attention to detail that pervades the entirety of ( 0 5 ) ensures that we are enraptured by its gentle tendrils as they push and pull in a myriad of directions.
Guests crop up occasionally to add a new texture to the aural landscape. Gavin Miller’s soaring guitar brings such a delicate lightness to ‘[ 3 6 ] / But I Was Happy’, the fragile beauty stepping carefully over the darker, more nefarious rumblings of the core trio. The haunting, ethereal vocals in ‘[ 4 0 ] / Petite Fleur Des Champs’ courtesy of Sura Sol, drifting in as they do after the side-long whispers of ‘[ 3 7 ]’, feel more like a visitation from beyond the veil.
( 0 5 ) is not catchy, laden with hooks that lodge in the brain or filled with memorable riffs, yet somehow the album sticks around long after it fades away, demanding another listen. [ B O L T ] have delivered an exquisite album that is all about emotion, a piece of art that tugs deep inside: wondrous and sublime.
