I've become perturbed and pacified by Adarkah Ianqu's musical trip, cheap books: an electronic compilation that swings through literary allusions with soothing and tormenting sounds (the sort of brilliant spectrum that Ianqu is known to pen.)
In this instance, the progression need not be followed as arranged, for Ianqu's audio chapters flow with juxtaposing turns, and unlike an actual book, the contents can be shifted and tossed through any number of shrewd methods.
The album's most epic examples (in length and breadth) are "fish and chips" and ""dindnt", which travel into one's mind per passages from Jules Verne and/or H.G. Wells. Their content is also pedestrian in a right-off-the-drugstore-shelf style, but all the more identifiable because of it.
On the more concise side, "skyboard" is the ideal means to commence the album, setting a lovely prelude pace: a tinkling of melancholia that might have sprung from inebriated Poe, but also cynical Spillane.
The combination of "looks like an edit" and "tea time" are deft buffers, implying the eager turning of pages and bloody finger cuts, of sipping tangy herbs during a virulent, word rape.
As the album's finale, "boo-doo" is pure perfection: a splash into those vast, varied dreams that publications of any sort can invoke. One's mind enhances the artist's words--the poet's notes--casting colors and character faces to each blossoming note.
The result of cheap books is a balancing act of the best kind: the kind that only a literate, transcendental master could compose.
Flip through Ianqu's edifying, audio pages at
https://adarcahianku.bandcamp.com/album/cheap-books?fbclid=IwAR2ZKdESuqxnQMntq-HZJRcO4K0_sSQGPktbqL-KAUKdmcd3qfNAiH8qGcY.
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