Cloud Land Coyote is the vehicle through which musician Ethan Boyd acts as a conduit for a natural ambience. He combines found sounds with gauzy vocals and subtle electronic flourishes that add a twinkling beauty to his work. His songs recorded under this moniker are airy and feel as though they’re liable to blow away at the slightest gust of wind. They possess an intangible nature that only deepens their mysterious origins. These sounds are experienced and absorbed more than they are heard, and Boyd gives them room to evolve and settle down deep into our bodies.
Recently, he released “The Grayscaped Wanderer,” a collection of two songs (“The Wanderer’s Beginning” and “A Mystic’s Insight”) that function as a perfect springboard into this gentle sway of meditative music. Although there may be more songs to be released, these tracks act as a primer for his rolling musical experiments. There’s nothing raucous or forceful about these songs, but they still manage to be resonant within their respective atmospheres. It’s as if he simply pointed a microphone out to a series of mountainous locations and translated the elemental sounds that he heard.
And though these songs are perfect examples of ambient brevity, I wish I could have luxuriated in their ethereal rhythms for a little while longer. Boyd keeps the movements vague and almost tactile, as if these sounds were washing over you in brief bursts of shapeless emotion. He conjures ghosts and canyons and the wonder of the natural world in these miniature symphonies of murky vocalizations and skewed arrangements. And though we’re only given a short time to wander these landscapes, there’s a certain sense of rhythmic longevity and expansiveness that creeps up on you before you’re aware of it.
Joshua Pickard covers local and national music, film and other aspects of pop culture. You can contact him on Facebook, Twitter or by email. The opinions expressed in this column belong solely to the author, not Nooga.com or its employees.