True Colour Of Blood

Lustmord and Cold Meat Industry fans rejoice, cause this is the best ambient album I’ve heard in a good while ­ that it’s done 100% with guitars doesn’t make it
any less impressive. Forget about traditional string and fret activity though, this is like a trip beyond the stars. One can’t help but wondering
how it’s possible to get sounds like this from what is basically a plank with some wires attached to it. Amazing. 9/10 - Terrorizer UK

Stars End Radio
Eric Kesner is very much a creature of his guitar. His 20 year relationship with this instrument has evolved above that of incendiary guitar leads and commanding power chords and on to an area beyond where forms of melody and rhythm restrict the reach of his creative endeavor. Under the name True Color of Blood, Kesner has released the album (absence) (65'20") - a sonic journey where time is regarded as a river without banks and space created internally from sound. The eight auricular expressions on (absence) are each their own dense and flowing stream of sound - exposing Kesner's inate sense of drama. With its vague form and latent structure, (absence) keeps the listener's intellect searching through the crimson subject matter - which ranges from ambivalence to amazing self-expression. "Oracles of a Dead King" (10'56") followed by "Non Ens" (8'40") are the sensorial and somewhat reassuring pieces casting their thin light at the opening of the album. "The Secret Doctrine" (5'05") and "Close Your Eyes and It Appears (8'08") replaces the sonic pillow upon which the listener dreams with a dark neural drone. "Anamorphous" (4'24"), with its shimmering tones and reverb drenched breathing harmonies, comes closest to a narrative arc and the recognizable sound of guitar. "Last Day on Earth" (12'13") is the curiously claustrophobic yet empty conclusion to this recording; rescued only by a bright cogent coda in the album's hidden uncredited track. Kesner's work here represents a continuum of enigmatic pieces out of the Dark Ambient realm. Often abstruse and clouded, his music inhabits the night and the expansive internal world of sleep and contemplation - just as darkness holds the night and our own smallness in its enormoity. - Stars End Radio

Chances are, whenever Eric Kesner tells people that he's a guitarist, the first image that pops into their mind is of some long haired, spandex-clad rocker wielding his Les Paul or Stratocaster like an extension of his machismo, rocking out with scorching leads and hot fretwork that drive the female groupies crazy. Which is to say, the complete opposite of what Kesner does.

Rather, picture someone hunched over his effects pedals as if in prayer, painstakingly coaxing sounds from his instrument. And for good measure, you might want to picture this all taking place in some abandoned crypt or dank cavern. That's the sort of imagery that's more in line with Kesner's dark, isolated soundscapes, which have much more in common with Lustmord and Caul than any so-called guitar god.

It's worth pointing out that everything on this album - every atmosphere, drone, chant, and sonic wash - is done with a guitar. Such a declaration may not mean much in most circles, but in ambient music, with its incredible reliance on synths and programming, it makes Kesner's compositions all the more impressive, especially on such minimal and tensely atmospheric tracks as "Close Your Eyes And It Appears" (which, in its own quiet way, more than lives up to its ominous title).

These are vast recordings, traveling from the deepest crypts and hidden places in the earth (the aptly titled "Oracles Of A Dead King") to the furthest reaches of space ("Non Ens", which seems composed entirely of background cosmic radiation). Given Kesner's sole reliance on the guitar, the first comparison that immediately comes to my mind is Scott Cortez' lovesliescrushing - but only if you imagine Cortez' 12-string caught within the maw of a black hole, or crushed within the depths of the Marianas trench.

Considering the barren imagery and alien landscapes that Kesner's music so easily conjures up, Absence can be a daunting and strenuous album to make it through, especially considering that 5 of the disc's 8 tracks reach past the 8-minute mark. Thankfully, Kesner does provide brief moments of respite from his crushing sounds.

"Anamorphoris" is particularly gorgeous, its celestial tones evoking a sense of awe and wonder. "My Favourite Streetlight" is another "lighter" track, one that moves slightly more into the light and has a certain intimacy to it that some of the other tracks lack. That being said, even these lighter moments still have a tendency to make the listener feel small and insignificant, suddenly aware of their tenuous place in the cosmos. Which is something that one doesn't usually associate with even the greatest of guitar gods, and which makes plumbing the considerable depths of Kesner's compositions all the more rewarding.

- Opus Zine

Dark-ambient perfection; this is one of those discs I cannot recommend to you enough! Was i right about Sleep Research Facility, Ruhr Hunter, Aarktika? Yup, and here's the next brick in that particular wall. The rare work of true Isolationism, a sound that cuts through pretension and style and just delivers you right into the heart of something otherworldly. The spacious gloom of Lustmord, the vast, galaxy-dwelling sorrow Robert Rich, all filtered through the gaze of a new and similarly gifted creator who seeks his own path. Absence offers all that. The real surprise here is how occasionally some light, innocent sound rises out of a deepening darkness, a section of sound that is seeming to revolve into melancholy but a natural beauty starts to rise and take it into somewhere else. True Color isn't afraid to try that, to change the emotion of a piece slowly, and it works, it makes all of this somehow different than comparable projects like Lull or Koner, which are just relentless in their feel, their emotion, they stick to one throughout a track and never get distracted. This one likes to change it's mind, without actually changing the scene. You just want to put this one on, turn down the lights and listen. Eight panel booklet with appropriately oblique photographs. Excellent and perfect. - Manifold Records

The cover of Eric Kesner's, recording as True Colour of Blood, newest album "(Absence)" is a telling one. A grey-toned photo depicts an equally grey sky punctuated by a spidery treetop populated with two shadowy birds. Though we appear to be upon Earth, it's clear the focus here is the sky-static, not quite dark, seemingly endless. The interior art is similarly composed of grey landscapes interior and exterior.
True Colour of Blood's purpose seems to be static soundscaping with a focus on often ignored areas of perception; a barren field, a carpeted hallway floor, a blurry peacock feather devoid of color.
"(Absence)" begins with "Oracles of a Dead King" a slowly undulating soundshape that makes me think Kesner is Jeff Pearce's older, darker brother in sound. There's an ominous undertone here, but the stratospheric ambient drone is rather like watching a sky completely obscured by a great mass of deep grey clouds. This is a stark ten minutes of gentle, though melancholy ambience that would surely appeal to Oöphoi listeners.
"Non Ens" is reverberant darkness, as if one is housed within a giant cistern with only occasional deep drones as company. Kesner's guitar work here is strikingly similar to throat singing making the track feel like some subterranian monastery during mid-morning prayer.
"The Secret Doctrine" will tax the lower end of your speaker system as a Lustmordian rumbling skirts the edge of your consciousness. This is a deep drone not for the faint of heart, bringing to mind hidden estuaries that disappear into mountainsides. Spooky.
"Close Your Eyes and It Appears" (fantastic title) continues the darkness, bringing the CD to the edge of the barely audible. Industrial soundwashes, very low in volume, hover around. Perhaps Kesner wishes us to close our eyes, but frankly I'm afraid of what I might see when I eventually open them.
By the beginning of "Anamorphoris" we are out of the tunnel and back into a more Jeff Pearce style of guitar washes. The deep chiming of the guitar is warm, even if the underlying ambience is isolationist. Echoes of David Tollefson here, remind me that "(Absence)" would be a perfect match on the Hypnos label.
The title track is a ghostly and reverberating soundscape with a psychedelic edge. The tones slowly morph over the eleven minutes, though still manage to stay largely static. "My Favorite Streetlight" is the highlight of the album for me (along with the first track) as a pure beam of light pierces the cloying darkness of previous tracks. Even from a distance, the streetlight functions as a solace from some of the more forboding aspects of (Absence).
Finally, we reach our "Last Day on Earth". The sense here is one of waiting, as metallic clangs pervade an isolated drone. Surely, our last day on this Earth of Kesner's is one of claustrophobia. "It" is coming, and there's little we can do about it. But what is "it," exactly?
The album fades into silence, offering no answers until surprisingly a gorgeous guitar piece (the most "musical" entry on the disc) sends us straight to heaven after the dissolution of the Earth. This final coda could be a hidden track, but I prefer to think of it as a final commentary on what might occur during the "Last Day on Earth".
While the vistas on "(Absence)" are anything but sunny, I find Kesner's brand of dark ambience to be very satisfying. While the tracks do suffer from a certain same-ness, Kesner breaks up the potential monotony with some deft and imaginative guitar-playing that manages to be familiar yet original.
I found that many of the tracks fell too easily into background ambience, never commanding my attention for track length. While not necessarily a strike against the work, listeners who prefer a more active sound environment should probably look elsewhere. Nonetheless, "(Absence)", will appeal to ambient fans who prefer darker and more ominous zones of soundscaping. Quality work by an intriguing new artist. - The Ambient Review

True Color of Blood is the project name of sound explorer Eric Kesner. Using only guitar and effects (incredibly, no synths!) he has created a stimulating, visionary new album.
The music is transportive and emotional darker abstract minimalism. Through his guitar alchemy he can make exciting sounds the listener has never heard before. The textures and timbres are innovative and enticing. In "Oracles for a Dead King" dark drones and overtones give the listener a glimpse into distant worlds and lost kingdoms in other dimensions. Next is "Non Ens" where long slow tones rise and fall like winds on a far off planet. Track 3 "The Secret Doctrine" is an ominous, slowly mutating low frequency exploration. "Close Your Eyes And It Appears" follows, evoking a shadowy vision on the fringes of reality. Track 5 is next with chilly metallic swells and a feeling of transition. The title track "(absence)" follows with crystal drones arcing across a vast gulf. In Track 7 "My Favorite Streetlight" there is a feeling of peacefulness and arrival. The final track "Last Day On Earth" is a spiral of menacing drones and disquieting stirrings. After a few moments of silence, the CD ends brilliantly with a "secret track". It's a bit of beautiful conventional guitar for an epilogue, as if to let the listener know it's alright, that although there is darkness in the world light will prevail.
This CD takes the listener on a marvellous journey to the farthest reaches of inner and outer space. It's a brilliant work with mystical properties and one of the best releases of the year!

- www.Ambient.us

I got my first taste of this band a few years ago via MP3.com, and was intrigued. The sound quality of the early recordings I downloaded was not award-winning, but the ideas were striking. Thick, leisurely billows of guitar feedback laid over minimal beats (or sometimes no beats at all) were prevalent in these early works, producing something not unlike a cross between the more introspective moments of early Lycia and the languid atmospheric compositions of Stars of The Lid. I was therefore very pleased to learn recently that True Colour of Blood had been signed by Eibon. In some respects, [Absence] seems like a much longer, more introspective sojourn along this same mood-lit path. Broadly speaking, it resides somewhere between the casual buoyancy of 'conventional' ambient music and the sable severities of minimalist isolationism. Many of the compositions are suffused with a great wistful sadness that won't be entirely unfamiliar to fans of early eighties bands like This Mortal Coil, although the actual substance of the music bears little resemblance. Unusually for a disc as sparse and unworldly as [Absence], all the sounds on this recording have been created using guitars. Again, this invites comparison to Stars of The Lid*, whose guitar drones (described in a review I found recently as "slower than a snail in molasses") explore the often surprising beauty revealed in the slow rise and decay of sound waves. True Colour of Blood's decision to go with guitars, where synth drones might have been the easier option, pays off especially well in the unsettling void of Non Ens and in the rather grand and cavernous title track. There's an almost 'tidal' quality to these two pieces; sound advances and recedes in cycles that suggest some kind of subtle organising principle, but small elements of randomness are allowed to insinuate themselves into each wave as it washes up along the tonal shorelines. Elsewhere, as in the closing track Last Day on Earth, the guitar atmospherics veer downward toward the threshhold of infrasound. The sinister hum and whisper of this piece could easily originate from machines that have outlived their purpose, churning on sullenly in the post-apocalyptic near-quiet, the reason for their masters' absence eluding them entirely. In The Secret Doctrine the emphasis is likewise on very low-register sounds; here they lend an air of the clandestine to the very soft, minimal arrangements, forming a good contrast to the airy cathedral-like ambience of Anamorphosis. Some mastering issues aside (like the fact that most of track four is completely inaudible - a deliberate move, I think, but a rather annoying one) this CD is a worthy listen and testament to the fact that you can never run out of interesting things to do with a guitar - The aether sanctum