Uton is one of the most criminally underappreciated artists currently residing in the great white north of Finland. In The Wire's recent article proclaiming the brilliance of the Finnish 'scene,' Uton was conspicuously left out. For my money, Uton's meandering soundscapes are some of the finest being exported from the land of the Suomi. On "The August Light," Uton shows us a new side of his ever-evolving project. This album is bathed in the pine-scented forests of the north, touched by a spiritual, unspoken presence.
This latest CD-R on the mighty 267-Lattajjaa imprint explores the mystical world that exists outside of most cities. It is a place where Mother Nature is the dominating force, watching over all her tree children and glacial palaces. These 10 untitled tracks are a dreamlike journey. They go to places that could only exist in your mind and reveal things that your unconscious doesn't want you to know. Within these mossy walls exists a dark world that is aching for the light. It's a place where dark hunter greens long to live the way of the flourescent realm of colors.
Solemn electronic drones rise and fall from beneath the coniferious canopy. Organic instrumentation finds its way between the seams, acting as the glue that holds this entire arbor symphony together. Uton's in his element here. This is music that is cerebral while also being accessible. The organic instruments do their part in keeping these album from feeling too distant. It's like walking through a mystical, almost-frightening world, but carrying some piece of home with you that keeps you feeling safe & warm. "The August Light" is a neverending search for some unspeakable truth. Uton is looking for rebirth.
This is an album that unfolds on many levels simultaneously. As it creeps along slowly, ghostly voices rise through the murky keyboards, guitars, and recorders, illuminating the way through this forest. "The August Light" is brilliant, in approach and in execution. Uton has impressed me a lot over the past few years, but never as much as he does on this release. "The August Light" is his finest hour. 8/10 -- Brad Rose (25 May, 2005)