The moon is full and the traveler is weary. In the distance, obscured by a copse of trees, one observes a dwindling bonfire. The party, however, has long since ended. There are no witnesses—no witches’ sabbath, no prancing faunes. All that remain are the embers of a single heart, and the shadows dancing in the dying light.

OUT MOON is a minimalist, wine-drunk pastoral—a beat fairy tale with a haunted axial tilt. Built atop classical vinyl and cassette samples, the pops and warbles of a bygone era cast a funereal pall over the proceedings. The record evokes the recursive, obsessive undertow of heartache — the involuntary fixation on the grandeur of early Love in light of its inevitable dissolution...scenes replaying over and over, insisting (impossibly) that things ought to have panned out differently.

This is a dreamworld, at once sonically spare (note the conspicuous paucity of hi-hats) and dense with allusion. Distorted as the samples are, familiar movements suggest themselves only to recede back into the mi(x)st, just shy of identification. With respect to OUT MOON’S track titles and artwork, here we unearth a personal cosmology of heartbreak: ballet dancers, Russian bears, and chess maneuvers swim in and out of focus. Undergirding this tragi-comic parade, inescapable, is the depth and shudder of Black Taffy’s signature bass mixture – a rough and formidable beast lurking just beneath the songs’ eloquent sample collages.

There is no tidy resolution to be found in OUT MOON. Its concerns are timeless, quasi-mythic. But there is a secret timbre resonating somewhere beyond the hiss, transcending loss and self. The moon is full and the traveler is weary. In the distance, one observes a dwindling fire...