The project that follows my debut acted as a sibling piece within the organic instrumentation series. Warmer flesh tackles more raw emotions, rather than atmospheric creation. Recorded in a similar state, within the confines of my bedroom, backing onto the same busy street, but this time with a different approach. The emotive undertones of the piece were unprompted but developed from the beginning of the first day. Unlike the first album, I first allowed myself to experiment within various open tunings and found threads of voices within what I was playing, and then worked around these ideas to create the songs. As a result, this album features an arguably less organic style of recording, but more raw in terms of emotion, due to the thought behind each note, rather than an ongoing improvisation.
The album as a whole is also more primal and diverse in structure. It's shorter, features outtakes, as well as a bare experimental track. The opening track is more narrative in style, featuring a structure more common in lyric songs, making it seem like the piece simply forgot to add words on top. In total, the album feels unfinished, though not intentional, it feels like glimpses into a much more complex life than the first album, giving each track a more human quality, littered with the mistakes and juxtaposition of day to day life.
Picture the album as a house, each door different from the adjacent, each room contrasting in smell, in feel. You discover this home that has never stood out to you on your regular walks around the block, as if it simply appeared today. The front door is left ajar, inviting you in to explore its walls, and as you peruse the tiles and floorboards, the pictures hung on the walls, the laundry hung up on the back of furniture, you gain a glimpse into a life you feel you once knew, but maybe no longer live.
