The cover of Solar Solipsis appears to be a photo of the Sun blacking out the surrounding sky, or perhaps a dingy car headlight illuminating a steamy alley in the belly of a faceless city in some noir nightmare. What really caught my attention was the name, Salamander Wool, which is an archaic term for asbestos (the mythical Salamander, unlike it's rather cute, aquatic cousin, is said to be enveloped by elemental Fire).
Thankfully, the contents of this record, as with Salamander Wool's second album, "Lunarsophic Somnambulism" are fantastic, channeling a kind of lonesome intimacy that is hard to find. An album of hauntingly weird bedroom recordings crafted alone by Salamander Wool's sole member, Carson Garhart. Listening to this work is like being able to isolate those fleeting thoughts that flicker at the edge of perception; a barely audible noise, a whisper wrapped in a haunted chuckle, a heckling laugh, a voice from inside your head.
Throwing out occasional lyrics like "Wrapped in a hyperboreal glow," and "Hearts unfold with silky petals/Our bones are thorns of precious metals..." there is an almost palpable energy in Garhat's sounds and poetry that comes across with a kind of sexual magnetism, like someone whispering in your ear.
Well worth a listen and your support: