Beach Moon/Peach Moon - Monolith Cocktail

Our Franco-Turkish critic and literary poetic contributor of renown, Ayfer Simms, is wistfully enchanted by the new placable album from Beach Moon/Peach Moon. The brainchild of Robert Prisco, the translucent passages of his Kite Without A String songbook inspired a warmly woven stream of descriptive prose from Simms.

Beach Moon/Peach Moon   ‘Kite Without A String’
(Paper Trail Records)


Robert Prisco’s music simply drips from the sun as if made up of its rays; it is warm and embracing with its guitar cords following the honey like voice of the singer. The tunes are extremely relaxing allowing the listener to stop breathing for a moment and lie still in front of a sunny window. There, in a half awaken slumber, memories, hard and young ones, fresh punches of a break up, or fond exhilarating flirtatious moments of no heavy consequences, lightness of being with little sorrows: The dramas don’t cause distress here, there are no tears, no regrets, just the peaceful abandon of a bright afternoon, the warmth of the scent of some distant nostalgia.

These chords are made to slow down your heart rate, avoid the mind exhausting excitements, instead we stay in that screenshot of an 8mm movie with cadenced slow movements, we become the legs dangling from the side of an old train, breeze, love, poppies, sunflowers. Love again. Everything is peaceful, even sadness. Outside all the houses on the way have green bits and ghosts, those reflections of the travellers heart, and we gently rock and look, with a “heart full of happiness”, and listen, and chill, on a sunny sunny day. It’s acoustic and it’s charming.

Words: Ayfer Simms

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