I don’t know much about Helios except for this fact: I really like a record he made in 2006 called Eingya. It’s the kind of album that brings to mind all kinds of adjectives like “grandiose” or “majestic” or “gorgeous” – words that sound ridiculosuly saccharine when written down, but seem immediately justified as soon as the album’s first notes creep in to the picture.
It’s like a soundtrack to a movie that doesn’t exist – ambient, spacious, textured, yet personal and organic. Think of it as being what could happen if Brian Eno went mountain climbing with a post-rock band while listening to Boards of Canada and made an album about their experience. Usually the pieces are led by a simple motif handled by guitars or pianos, set against sparse percussion and tastefully orchestrated ambience.
Really there’s not much more to be said than that – I highly recommend the album. It’s best enjoyed turned up loud, preferably on a cold winter’s night in front of an open fire with a glass of red.
Helios is just about to release a new album called Caesura which is what I’d originally planned to write about, but after getting my hands on a promo copy I was left feeling somewhat disappointed. The record sounds like a somewhat paint-by-numbers affair compared to this which sounds so personal and engaging, as if the soul has got lost somewhere along the way.