Tashi Dorji - low clouds hang, this land is on fire
Tax included.
For his third album for Drag City, Tashi Dorji turns to the electric guitar and, in doing so, subverts every expectation that follows. After the ferocious acoustic improvisations of Stateless and we will be wherever the fires are lit, low clouds hang, this land is on fire arrives not as a scorched-earth statement, but as something hushed, spacious and deeply reflective.
Asked why he dialled things down this time, Dorji offers a simple answer: “To find the silence.” As ever, the choice is deliberate. Silence here is not absence, but intention — a response to exhaustion, grief and the weight of institutional cruelty. These pieces move slowly, allowing sound to hover and decay, each note shaped by the air around it.
Recorded in a high-ceilinged room of the family home, with amps set to let reverb breathe naturally, the music drifts with meditative clarity. The playing carries the fragile focus of Loren Connors and the reflective warmth of Bill Frisell, unfolding patiently, at times echoing the theme-led exposition of raga alap. Each piece exists in close dialogue with silence, asking the listener to lean in.
Only after the music was complete did the titles emerge, offering stark narrative frames for what’s heard. These are Dorji’s punk anthems — not through volume or force, but through refusal, restraint and quiet resolve.
Asked why he dialled things down this time, Dorji offers a simple answer: “To find the silence.” As ever, the choice is deliberate. Silence here is not absence, but intention — a response to exhaustion, grief and the weight of institutional cruelty. These pieces move slowly, allowing sound to hover and decay, each note shaped by the air around it.
Recorded in a high-ceilinged room of the family home, with amps set to let reverb breathe naturally, the music drifts with meditative clarity. The playing carries the fragile focus of Loren Connors and the reflective warmth of Bill Frisell, unfolding patiently, at times echoing the theme-led exposition of raga alap. Each piece exists in close dialogue with silence, asking the listener to lean in.
Only after the music was complete did the titles emerge, offering stark narrative frames for what’s heard. These are Dorji’s punk anthems — not through volume or force, but through refusal, restraint and quiet resolve.
Pickup available at Dreamhouse Records London
Usually ready in 24 hours
