It becomes clear very early on that nothing stays small here, that you will be taken along for the ride – far, far, far away. »I’m sorry, life is beautiful,« sings Kara-Lis Coverdale on the opening track of her new album From Where You Came, titled Eternity; sung over strings that claim the opposite, that let all the heaviness and tragedy of this life roll through the room. From here on out, it remains an album of immense proportions – both sonically and emotionally.
From Where You Came is such a space opener, because its mixture of acoustic instruments and synthesizers creates a feeling of weightlessness, even if the music cannot be categorized in terms of genre. Again and again the synthesizers chug across the cherry blossom meadow in a very Japanese way, you think: Ah, ambient, yes, yes, Yoshimura – only to be stopped again by a devotional organ: Yes, okay, yes, death is a fact, no condition is permanent. For my taste, the devastating cello power of the opener could easily have been given more space in the rest of the album – and the UK snare drum art »Offload Flip« would have been a good motif, too. As it is, it is often a gentle groping into the distance, a floating away. From Where You Came has its greatest qualities where an impossible weight hangs in the air.
