Originally issued on LP by Igloo in 1987, Sounds Of Sacred Places is the sonic equivalent of the ritual chalk circle scrawled prior to daemonic séance. Here, Darge attempts to relocate the sacrosanct lost among Ghent’s medieval architecture, cordoning off sacred spaces amid the routine bustle of the mundane. Even the industrious rumble of a local power plant near Ghent’s Turkish Square serves to plot a locus of eerie divinity, as sinister whistles and children’s innocent play convey a sense of unease amid potentially dark happenings.
Elsewhere, raindrops ricochet off Perspex coverings and glass panes, while a distorted tongue mimics a Jedi master in the throes of birthing a toad. Earlier, on Abbey-Sounds, a distant cousin of Elliott Gould, offers his impressions of St Bavo’s refectory, while doves coo a hypnotic heavenly-bound spell. A double dose of campanology concludes the album, with Solstice Sun and Three Sunbeams offering comfort with their muffled bell clamour and chime – like deep submarine sonar folding in on itself to elaborate a squelch.
Sounds Of Sacred Places guides the listener, not only around a specific geographic location, but also a strange and nebulous dimension situated beyond the temporal. That this welcome reissue appears on Kye – whose Graham Lambkin operates in similarly shadowy realms – makes perfect sense.
