New Music: John Derek Bishop’s ‘PI’ Album Review
As fragile as a falling raindrop with the weight, depth, and mass of a black hole, PI is an album that can pass by in the blink of an eye or stretch out for eternity. It cannot be measured in timestamps and play counts; it exists outside of that, serving as both a liminal space and a final destination. It is a work of art, and yet, in its minimalism, it is almost nothing at all.
PI functions more as a single, continuous piece of music separated into movements than a traditional album of individual tracks. While specific track listings may highlight subtle evolutions or shifts, the work is best experienced as an indistinguishable, cohesive narrative.
A Meditation on Imperfection
The album is intentionally imperfect. John Derek Bishop recorded the project in a single sitting, resulting in a meditation that feels like a living, breathing monument to creativity and playful passion. It is simultaneously uninteresting and infinitely fascinating. Rather than relying on monumental melodies, the album celebrates the small and the insignificant, casting a spell through the poetry and precision of the piano keys.
There is something ancient and hallowed about this record. It demands engagement; if treated as background noise, its spark may fizzle. However, if you peer into the abyss of its soundscape, it meets your gaze, inviting you to delve into the dark expanse at its heart.
The Mechanics of Sound
The production, mixing, and mastering are breathtaking. The listener is placed intimately close to the instrument, hearing the wood, the scuffing of fabric, and the resonant hum of metal. It is an acid trip into the very essence of the piano. The album leaves ample space for the listener to project their own experiences, evoking a bittersweet sense of reverence and nostalgia—a mourning for the innocence of childhood, even while the self remains.
Ultimately, PI is a vivid, vibrantly painted piece rendered entirely in shades of grey. It is poetic, philosophical, and profoundly powerful. It is a brief, beautiful ride played with the twinkling stardust of infinity and the crushing chorus of the eternal void.
