Gretel - Casket

Can a shadow tell a story? Can light be cast from said shadows? Well this is what happens when one stares into the heart of Gretel’s ‘Casket’ LP. Gretel whirls you to a world occupied by nostalgia, the brothers Grimm and, Miyazaki. But instead of seven foot cats and cannibalistic old ladies we are greeted by folk visions of another distinct far away land: where is this land? This land is found in the shadows of youth all tense relevance abandoned like a great Dylan song or a Di Chirico painting. And like the sense of time you are abandoned to wonder was that just a shadow or was it something more sinister? Why are those cats screeching outside the adult in you tells a story of mating season, while the child destroys this false sense of security with images of hooded monsters pandering to pagan requests.
The sense of exploration compressed in this music is unsettling as we are drowned by pieces like ‘Formless’. It screams at us: ‘We are formless and all thought of form is just that’. When I think of this music as music then I am insulting my intuition and ignoring the feeling that I am being watched, because I know Gretel is watching right now as I check underneath the bed at the three minute mark in ‘Formless’. Voyeuristic paranoia tweaking the string section as hell is let loose and the woods are set on fire by the poem’s of Gretel’s elders.
‘Masked Ball’, piece number twelve on this LP, assures me that this is just thought and there is nothing here to really harm you. The last two pieces after ‘Masked Ball’, guide us safely out of the shadowy forest. But we must not forget what we saw on this journey. We must remember the shadows so we can tell are children and so as they can tell their children. For what is a child if the child doesn’t believe in shadows?

An excerpt from Apollinaire’s ‘Shadow’

Impalpable and ark presence who have assumed
the changing shape of my shadow
an Indian on the watch through all Eternity
shadow you creep beside me
but you do not hear me any more
you will not know any more the divine poems I sing
but I hear you still and see you still
Multiple shadows may the sun preserve you
You who love me so much that you will never leave me
And who dance in the sun without stirring the dust
Shadow ink of the sun
Signature of my light
Holder of sorrows
A god that condescends.

- The Importance Of Birds

Further discussion of this artist and album can be found here:


Free album download: