‘Nostalgia For The Light’ – a 2015 documentary by Chilean director Patricio Guzmán – is a stark and affecting motion picture, one that documents the horrendous atrocities of it’s political state in a time of unquestionable potential for good for the South American country. Fixed in the very centre of the unfathomable Atacama desert, the deep rooted desire for closure is unavoidable, yet neither is the unquestionable human trait in striving to resolve.
With its narrative inspiration in mind, Swallow Cave have delivered something utterly encompassing and poignant in ‘Nostalgia’ – on face value a beautifully textured piece that sways and swoons in equal measure. Yet with deeper exploration, the empathy and emotion that floods its inspiration does just the same here, like an oasis drenching the untouched, cavernous land.
‘Nostalgia’ sways at its own delectable pace, like the sunset having one final dance across the horizon before sauntering into its resting place. Sweltering heat simmers tangibly, the static of hot skin touching skin bounces off the reverb of a cooing slide guitar, yet it’s comfortable – its in no rush for shade, embracing the sun’s unwavering effect. As dusk arrives, its spectral sensibilities come to the fore – quaint, coupled guitar hooks tease each other like stars battling to shine the brightest in the clear night.
With each listen, the stark open space comes more and more to the fore – the way each tempered section lingers in the atmosphere is resonating and mournful. It yearns for an answer to a question they aren’t quite sure how to ask, it’s on the tip of their tongue but the cat’s had its way – and that’s how Swallow Cave thrive – placing themselves at the precipice with their evocative soundscapes and abstract, yearning lyricism asking more than it answers.