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forgang-foraged, glacial-lakes approved jewel of deep 70s field-recording weirdness. A bunch of cultic flower children built this wind harp on a hill and let nature take its course. look how huge that beast is. It's like ten times the size of a pleasant hippy toddler.
I'm not even going to go into detail about how surprisingly moody and sinister the recording is. I also really like that the album is credited to wind harp like it's alive. There is an excellent blog post already out there about this album which you can read in full here and which I quote:
"It is undoubtedly a spiritual sound, just not in a way that I suspect either the record company nor the hippies were anticipating. Certainly anyone sticking this on to accompany a meditation session or drug trip would get more than they bargained for; bummers, paranoia, bloody noses; all are possibilities. For however much we may be taught to view nature, and atmospheric conditions / weather systems in particular, as an entirely beautiful, harmonious system through which we can gain understanding of ourselves via an impression of dissolution within it’s patterns, it swiftly becomes clear upon dropping the needle that the sounds emerging from this here Wind Harp were REALLY FUCKING MALEVOLENT."
