In the tangled, brooding soliloquy of Michal Gutman’s debut solo album “Never Coming Home,” there beats a heart marooned in an oceanic swell of contradictions. Here is where discord dances coyly with tune; eight tracks breathe as one tragic being caught between isolation and skeletal embraces.
Gutman reigns over her self-made orchestral kingdom—a witch-doctor weaving spells through bass guitar strums, looping them like haunting echoes on forgotten shores. The touch-pad synthesizer drips notes that flutter about like ghostly butterflies while dual mics amplify not just vocals but visceral cries from soul caverns deep.
The theme—an eerie feeling akin to homesickness corroding the innards of a shipwreck survivor—spirals throughout this musical labyrinth. It paints sonorous portraits tingling with nostalgia for chains they’ve both donned willingly and yet strive fiercely against finding freedom amid captivity’s sweet pain.
Wrapped within layers crafted meticulously by rhythms belting out cabaret tempestuousness intertwined soft rock hymns at 80th regiment club beat cores – we find ourselves shackled spectators aboard Michal’s odyssey only ever half-alight amidst phosphorescent alien seas swaying us into tantalizing turmoil: are you truly never coming home?
This auditory tapestry offers intimate discombobulation draped glamorously across every note challenging our notions of what it means to embrace solitary ethereal party halls winking past midnight within oneself – obrigado Gutman!
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