Provincial Park by Buildings and Food
A love letter to the Canadian wilderness
Electronica and nostalgia make fine bedfellows. Over the course of the last three Buildings and Food albums, it's slowly dawned on me that the allure of Canadian artist Jen Wilson's music is rooted in my own musical pilgrimage. Once a guitar-only type, my path to electronic music (around the turn of the century) evolved through artists like Plaid, Boards Of Canada, Four Tet and múm. I've realised that Wilson's work comfortably sits alongside their music (from 25 years ago), hence triggering my own formative memories. The latter in particular (múm) comes to mind when listening to new album Provincial Park (check out Clear Skies, it captures the same whimsical charm of the Icelandic band). Drowning me in nostalgia was perhaps not Wilson's intention but her goal was certainly to transport the listener.
Inspired by rural escapades Wilson translates her memories to sound. Like a reverse transcript, we hear wildlife encounters, pond life and dead lakes returning to life
through eleven tracks of bucolic electronica. With only nominal use of field recordings, Wilson coaxes a wistful sense of the carefree through synths, piano and guitar: minimal in makeup but far-reaching in effect, an assertion best appreciated in the track Cameras North, where the melody gently lifts you.
Another element that informs the whole memory triggering concept is the track titles. Like Saloli's Canyon (an album of emotive music that follows a day in the life of a bear) the names focus your thoughts. Titles like Maps, Stargazing and Weightless prime the listener for an enhanced effect. Algae Boats is quite explicit but the buzz of new life atop the light summer breeze is obvious when you know.
At only 31 minutes, it's a swift escape but the downtempo rhythms and hazy melodies are a match made in heaven. It feels like I can soak up the Super8 vibes with all my senses.