Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * *
If your one of those people that cannot under any circumstances feel as though you have been hypnotised, that being pulled in a certain direction whilst the mind slowly is entranced and made to see beyond the limited boundaries imposed by yourself, it is entirely possible that you have been listening to the wrong kind of music or the dishonesty of life too much.
To base an argument on such a statement would of course be Groundless, however deep within the feeling of contentment that the listener gains by listening to the new album by Safir Nòu, there is the mesmeric, there is a tangled web of intrigue in the music; so much so that the positive energies that come directly out the mind of the musician is enough to paint a different edge to reality and the dance we find ourselves creating.
With the likes of Antonio Firinu, Yaacob González Garcia and Andrea Cogoni joining in on the album, the mass hypnosis is almost assured, the emotion that comes rolling out like the taste of dew on grass on a spring morning is so palpable that you may for a while be drawn to believe you are standing in a field with the greatest scenery and abundant natural beauty laid out before you. Of course hypnotism is subjective but if the mind is willing to understand beauty above the repulsive, perhaps it is possible to yearn for that beauty and reject the scathing and ugliness caused by those with weakness in their hearts.
Groundless contains the splendour of tracks that are steeped in the instrumental soundscapes, songs such as New Lunacy, Land-Escape, the thrill of Puppet’s Waltz and Diary From A Groundless Land all combine to add a different perspective to the listener’s day, if they should allow it to do so, and it is one that cannot be damaged or wrecked by the click of the fingers or the sceptic’s laughter in the audience.
A well delivered album that encompasses the finest feelings of the instrumental, the long trip and out of soul experience we all yearn for; to suggest anything else would be Groundless.
Ian D. Hall