First Impressions: Opening by numün

Veteran New York City musicians Joel Mellin, Christopher Romero (Gamelan Dharma Swara) and ambient country pioneer Bob Holmes (SUSS, Rubber Rodeo) joined forces some six years ago as numün, whose ambient music adds folky, jazzy and psychedelic flourishes. Imagine Dark Side of the Moon-era Pink Floyd performing the music of Mike Oldfield—and then add a dash of krautrock because, well, why not? Opening is their third album.  

The eight-track melodic odyssey is akin to a sonic meditation. It’s calming and compelling, essentially a succession of steadied and studied breaths designed to expand the diaphragm and clear the mind of errant thoughts. The tracks incorporate such esoteric instruments as the cumbuz (a Turkish fretless 12-string banjo) as well as an Indonesian gamelan ensemble, which features a metallophone and gongs, alongside piano, guitar and synths. Joining them on the musical journey are Victoria Lo Mellin (Dharma Swara) on flute and bass flute, as well as Willa Roberts (Black Sea Hotel) on violin and, from time to time, Clare Torry-like wordless vocals that conjure “The Great Gig in the Sky.”

Pondering lyric-less compositions sometimes confounds me. What can be said of a ruminative guitar that, as on the closing “Flower,” plunders not for treasure or momentary pleasure but an emotive response as weighty as that engendered by Picasso’s “The Old Guitarist”? Unlike the Wallace Stevens poem that painting inspired, “The Man With the Blue Guitar,” the articulation of sentiments dwells in brushstrokes, not couplets, and a hazy blue melody lifted as if from the mist overhanging a Nepalese lake. To borrow from Stevens:

I know my lazy, leaden twang
Is like the reason in a storm;

And yet it brings the storm to bear.
I twang it out and leave it there.

Meditation requires concentrating on a mantra, i.e. a word or syllable or sound, and the here and now. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. (And, if you must, shake it all about.) Thoughts transform into wispy clouds that skirt a blue, blue sky, freeing us from the tumult and turmoil that, as Stevens posits, are products of our own (oft-collective) device. We create our dramas—to an extent, at any rate. Escaping them, even for mere minutes at a time, leavens the soul. 

Which is all to say, Opening by numün is a meditative wonder that helps to clear the mind of errant worries and concerns. I’ve found it a tremendous, invigorating listen, especially early in the morning and late at night.