Serenity now. Serenity later? Well, not that much later if you’re tuned into the cozy ambiance of little-known New Age musician Chris Stonor aka L’Esprit. Gentle and quietly so unobtrusive, L’Esprit’s sophomore release, Far Journey, somehow gets your attention by doing the little things so right.
I wish I could share more of who Chris Stonor actually is. Other than the minute image you see of him in the liner notes, little of Chris Stonor the musician (or of L’Esprit) as an entity exists in any documentation. What I could suss out is that this Sussex native began his career not as an ambient musician but as a writer and sometime rock’n’roller. One wonders if he would have even turned into this world of healing music if his more “aggro” career hadn’t been taken out to shed by the music industry machine.
However, by the late ‘80s, after a spell writing for other artists, Chris would turn to a solo career trying to rekindle his musical side, in between making a living as a freelance news writer. Under the Serenity record label, thankfully, his experiment in “ambient/relaxation” music crossed the path of its label head (one Jim Moeller) who created such a label to help others cross over from placid “New Age” listeners to active “healing music” that could be enjoyed for more than just therapeutic use. There Chris would be able to carve out his own distinct kind of gentle ambient music.
So, not to belabor a history for something quite weightless, with Serenity, Chris began a run of three albums 1989’s Language of Touch, this one, and Inner Child his final one, that showed a genuine dedication to that special, some (arguably) would say, is fairly innocuous, form of peak early ‘90s New Age background muzak. Yet, somehow, right now I’m totally buying what he is selling.
Forgoing a lot of the doe-eyed romanticism of his debut with prolific English library musician Patrick Wilson, Far Journey, finds Chris writing and performing nearly everything with touches of the mysticism, the environmental music, and the melodicism of the past coming roaring back (well, as much roaring as one can on “mood music”) for a more personal record.
Songs like “Turning Of The Tide” remind some of the serene work of the more airy side of Toshifumi Hinata. Others, like album highlight, “That Special Place”, ingeniously leverage the power of samplers and romplers to create a low-flying take on imaginary fourth world-esque fusion that is all the rage (at least here in this lowly website). Ditto for the quite Eno-esque “Bali Shore” a gorgeous ambient ballad with real and imagined vocals.
Far from a masterpiece, Far Journey, does have a way of holding you in its grasp much like one. When you feel like zoning out with little distraction, the crystalline musical language of tracks like “Highlands” and its title track recall all sorts of instant nostalgia one can conjure up from those aged silicon-based dinosaurs with a Korg and Roland printed in the back.
On a Far Journey you’re never quite in Bali. You’re never quite in the Scottish Highlands. Heck, you’re never quite in utter serenity. But at least you feel like you’re going places (unlike little music done lately). These pastorals are quite placid and by golly, it works. Like Jim writes in describing this album: “Its gentleness and melodic melodies make stress and confusion melt away. Sit back, relax and let go…” (Which I do everytime I drift off with this thing on).