Nimbudala

Any release on Inner Islands is going to send the listener inward in search of their own personal vibrations, and to that end, Nimbudala is right in line with banner waving over the label. However, Steve Targo’s second outing also extends out of the cocoon to walk with the wind and soak up the soil. Traversing similar headspace as recent faves Golden Brown and Seawind of Battery, Peace Rock embraces a cosmic jazz openness and New Age glow that sends waves of calm cascading out from the speakers, rolling back in on the breeze. Targo recently ran down the elements that make up Peace Rock‘s core, slipping from Pharaoh, Miles, and Sun Ra to Arica and Laraaji. The pieces fit together into a textural quilt that comforts the listener, yet entrances them with its colors and patterns.

The opener trades in Kosmiche sparkle, a nice slip beneath the surface to adjust to the temperature of Nimbudala, but it’s on the middle portion, when the title track’s two halves play out, that Targo begins to draw the listener in. Aqueous tones submerge the listener on “Peace Rock I,” filling the room with a fogged dampness that’s a few tones darker than the average New Age dazzle. The second movement pushes through the fog and tumbles into night’s embrace. While quite a few of the ambient/jazz jaunts of late have found their way into the sun’s good graces, a good portion of Peace Rock spends its time haunting the hallways of the moon. That darkness draws the listener down like a whirlpool, watching the sun play out on the waves above but getting fainter all the time. It’s nice to have an album set to center your consciousness, but sometimes it’s better to have one that’s more content to swallow you whole.

Support the artist. Buy it HERE.