Schuster is newish, very talented composer who blends music that could be found in soundtracks of more fantastical film, with bits of electronic music. Sneeuwland juxtaposes vintage keys with glitch, fusing your memories past with your present day. Each track seemed to be one of Schuster’s own memories playing out, perhaps reading another man’s lost journal of daydreams, on a lazy Sunday afternoon. I felt a certain sadness pressing the back of my mind, as it helped recall memories, good and bad, of my own. This is interesting, given my background wasn’t set in Berlin, Europe, somewhere even remotely “nice”, and definitely not some surreal plot set in a movie. I believe this was his specific intention – the music box conjuring up images of a faded, always inaccurate recall of innocence past, whether you were running in a country field or a latchkey child. Imagine you’re with your brother or close, long time friend. “…remember when we used to…” “….great times…” “…that was a sad day…” “I wonder what happen to her…” This album encapsulates these feelings. “Lumehelves”has the same start, but with a wrinkle – a pixie-voice woman, a singer named Possimiste, imploring a child named Oliver to “ever, don’t give up your dreams.” The track’s aim is true, pricking a temporary hole in the clouded glass house you call your memory. The message, too, processes truth. Remembering is good. Remembering to move forward is better.
Favorite track: “Lumehelves”
Not favorite: none