Roaming In Teesdale, somewhat continues from where they departed in Bridges of the South. Melancholic, but very uplifting harmonies imperatively create a serene, but audaciously dense universe of gregarious confluence over the edge of their brilliantly intertwined efforts, that complement one another so overwhelmingly, although quite vehemently each artist maintains the brilliance and the harmonious intensity of its own distinctive qualities, effusively converting the sound into the major protagonist of their melodically infinite grievances, exposing in the process a work of amazingly conceived nuances and objectifying calmness, that tranquilizes the spirit, being capable of sending your soul to a very distant, but peaceful part of the universe.
A very concise album, being only thirty six minutes long, Roaming In Teesdale has ten tracks. Black Hills songs are Grassland blues, Storm above Egglestone, Low Force, Nightwatching and Ghost hunting in the Raby Castle (tracks 1,3,5,7 and 9 respectively). Cousin Silas tracks are Summer view, Bradshaw Hill in autumn, Hamsterley, Snow falls over Mill Beck and Beneath the treeline (tracks 2,4,6,8 and 10 respectively).
For the ones who are used to the style of both artists, it is quite easy to identify their respective tracks. The amazingly translucent, but exponentially vibrating guitar lingered harmonies are Black Hill’s songs, while the most ethereal, elusive and infinite ambient melodies are Cousin Silas’ music. At first, you may question yourself, about what they could possibly have in common, for a collaboration to stand for? And the answer is: nothing. This is what we can highlight as so brilliant about them. And yet, they manage to work amazingly well together, intertwining their pieces along so beautifully with one another, that you have in the end the perfect soundtrack for an everlasting dream of colorful and endless infinities.
With the condensation of an amazingly lucid, but exceedingly diluted atmosphere of majestic sensibility, what Black Hill and Cousin Silas have created in Roaming In Teesdale is another formidable – and astoundingly proficient – intercalation of styles, that masterly diffuses upon their own vicissitudes the imponderable cosmogonies of their highly concentrated synergy, that deeply disperses in the dilated, but at the same time expansive tissue of their sound the effervescing elements of their unusually splendid artistry. Literally, this is an album that you can’t afford to miss. Its consistency is majorly underlined with the sagacity of a sonorously synchronized serenity, profoundly inebriated by the marvelous rapture of an infinite universe.
Wagner