J. Carter
A Sunken Mall
Includes Instant Download
ASM01LP / Includes Download Code
Ltd. to 150 copies, embossed 350g deluxe cardboard cover with hand inserted image, paper insert
Incl. VAT plus shipping / Orders from outside the EU are exempt from VAT
1Rejoice! 1:55
2A Pale Cloth That Cover The Eyes 5:36
3Like A Command (The Life of the Imperative) 2:00
4Like A Waltz 7:18
5Perfectly Red Ochre 2:00
6Over Your Cities Grass Will Grow 0:51
7Abandonment Veil 1:36
8A Few Freed Memories Layed Bare (Feat. Kelby Clark) 4:52
9Five Vases That Mark The Breast 4:08
10Silence Belongs To Us 1:20

A Sunken Mall is a new label from Vaagner for limited vinyl editions in special packaging.

The story of the Southerner who leaves the South will forever carry with it a certain poetic solemnity, as though the mystic doom of Faulkner, and his Yoknapatawpha County, follows them elsewhere, follows them everywhere. The cruelty of the Country’s history is embedded in their every move, their every utterance, their voice itself. One need only to sit with Rejoice!, the new album from Brooklyn-by-way-of-Nashville artist Jeremiah Carter, once, to comprehend the significance of such antiquities and their reflections both on self and world alike. The cinematic samples of stringed instruments on the opening Title Track, along with a great deal of the A-Side, paints a thousand overlapping landscapes, of plains, of prairies, of mountains. They clash at times, in prickling discord, like dragonflies disturbed in their hovering atop endless fields of cattails. But, at others, they mingle with Carter’s gorgeous, lush synthesizers, graciously oozing a fullness both enriching and wholly melancholy. These tracks are simultaneously irksome and soothing, the A-Side echoing holograms of a similarly sad theme throughout—taking its time with us, for the benefit of our own self-reflection. The incorporation of the spoken word of Roberto Bolaño’s “43. Like A Waltz,” on the track of the same name, humbly nods to timeless and scenic summers, or not summers—a beautiful forgetmenot.

Static and droning highs overtake the air on Side B, like a rainforest mist, the synths returning as sunbeams through the treetops. It becomes all the more warming and loving than its preamble. The glowing tones of “Perfectly Red Ochre,” and “Abandonment Veil,” beckon us away form the previous perils of dissonance. They hover like the haze after a much needed rainfall, as if to say, “See? this land is not doomed.” Organic instrumentation interrupts the drones on this Side—solitary acoustic guitar on “Over Your Cities,” and piano on closing track, “Silence Belongs To Us.” It’s Carter’s reminder that a human voice lay behind all this, that someone is playing these instruments, composing these epics. By its end, Rejoice! has done what historians will forever aim, yet consistently fail, to do—it captures the soul of a land. It channels Carter’s voyage from Southern States to Northern, with the conflicts of his past, and the land’s, trailing behind him like a cape. He wears these sounds, and he wears them beautifully.