Skullflower first came across Disaster Amnesiac's perceptual radar in the mid 1990's, when I lived in San Francisco. By that time, the group had already achieved, if not venerable, than at least renowned status, and rightfully so. By way of roughly sculpted long form electric guitar drone maneuvers, Skullflower had been blowing minds since the mid-to-late 1980's. From a subjective point of view, the recordings that I found fit well within the murky and damp (kind of like a butthole) environment of 'frisco as it was navigated, generally clumsily by the person that I was during that time. Twenty or so years later, Draconis came to my attention during a stop at Los Angeles Amoeba Records and there was no question as to whether or not I should cop it, despite at that time being semi-employed and rather broke most of the time. This massive two disc slab of prime Skullflower remains a favorite recording when the need for guitar drones arises, and that need has been predominant a mi casita for a few weeks now. An overall thematic dynamic featuring dragons is predominant on the album, and that perhaps being a subset to what appears be a lament for a fallen feline friend. This is relatable as someone very near and dear to me considers cats to be of the dragon species and utilizes the latter as protectors of the former on a regular basis, within the psychic realms. Getting back to the music: Draconis spans two compact discs' worth of Matthew Bower's skills at crafting the stated long form drone pieces from guitars, synthesizers, and vocals, with assists from Samantha Davies on guitars and violin. Thick slabs of feedback and arpeggio are pulled from amps that overdriven to the max. Their sounds will drive colorful perceptual wedges into the listener's cranium; they induce trance in the most delightful of ways, even as the occasional simple melody sometimes arises from the din. Listening to it now, Disaster Amnesiac imagines amplifier tubes glowing with heat as Skullflower got down to the business of evoking magickal realms of sonic bliss within their "land of the dragon" and feels happy to have been allowed access to these rituals. Sublime loops of high pitched squalling tickle the ear drums with Minimalist delight. Occasionally diatonic riffs echo around mental canyons that resemble solitary desert zones. Melancholic refrains give salute to fallen guides. Vibes simultaneously ancient and futuristic emanate from within electric vortexes commanded by Bowers and then guided into conclusions that sometimes cut with unapologetic and yet still mysterious conclusions. Otherworldly voices arise from eddies chaotic and and controlled at the same time. Whatever inspirations pushed Skullflower in the making of these songs, they are clearly deeply felt and astutely rendered. Draconis is an album of abstract, droning bliss. Load it up, push play and pay deep attention to the mental pyramids that it constructs, and you'll discover aural Sphinxes that can provide fascinating hours of musical contemplation.
