Mark Barrott’s new album, The Exit Diaries, is divided into 2 distinct halves, each with its own title. “Light Variations” is a suite of 6 pieces, designed to be “Sunday morning music”. To my ears, the tracks are twinned with Japanese artist Calm’s “ambient jazz”. Opening with a low drone and smoky saxophone, immediately setting a romantic tone. Syncopation comes from celebrated drummer Leo Taylor. His slowly stirring whispers of cymbals accompanying Barrott’s warm Fender Rhodes. Building to swinging, funky post-drum & bass breaks, as the aching arrangements introduce strings and bubbling, blissed-out bleeps. The latter repeating, cascading like raindrops over rattling metallic snares and serenaded by soloing reeds. While created for sunrise, “Variation V”, in particular, is symphonic and cinematic. Reminiscent of the sort of emotive 80s film scores that Jose Padilla plundered for his White Isle sunsets. 

Taylor’s drumming also helps launch side 2, “The Stone Tape”. Driving the cycling, soaring “When Devils Become Gods”, whose dramatic orchestration resembles a philharmonic reading / medley of Mayday’s “Strings Of Life” and Sebastien Tellier’s “La Ritournelle”. The remaining 5 compositions, however, are far more understated and introspective. Slow and sparse sketches for piano and sax. Serene, synthesised post-classical swells. The instruments, in places, distorted as if lifted from an archival recording or broadcast. Leaning into the concept that the set was named after. The idea that locations themselves can record, and play back, events from the past. The muted fanfares of “Quarries” feel ceremonial. “Closer” is a harmonic haze, a graceful glide. The soothing sigh of a world weary, but hopeful, reassuring lullaby. “Homo Homini Lupus” – “man is a wolf to man” – is faint, barely audible. Appropriately conjuring the faded opulence of a haunted ballroom / dancehall. 

Mark Barrott’s “The Exit Diaries” can be ordered directly from Mark and Anjunachill.