Taking advantage of a moment of morning silence, I want to share a discovery that has become a true revelation for me. It’s rare to find music where the academic depth of a teacher and the free spirit of a jazz pianist merge into something so intimate. I’m talking about the track “Menagerie” by Geoffrey Dean, known under the pseudonym Baraka.
From the very first seconds, “Menagerie” envelops you in the masterful play of deep, melancholic piano notes. They lay low, like a thick mist filling the gorges of the Carpathian Mountains. Above this foundation hovers a weightless, almost ethereal vocal. It gently pushes the composition away from the familiar shores of the lo-fi genre, dissolving the piano and percussion into the vast space of ambient.
From time to time, warm echoes of guitar chords pierce through this cold sound. Like the first rays of the sun, they add life-affirming tints to this mantra of melancholy. Yet, somewhere mid-journey, improvisational motifs lead us back to a gentle sadness — sincere and pure.
At first glance, the work might seem somewhat primitive, with motifs repeating frequently. However, that is precisely the intent. This is a stillness that isn’t meant to progress outward, it is directed within. Baraka has created a space for total relaxation, capable of soothing the noisy “menagerie” that each of us hides behind a mask of everyday life. It calms the inner chaos, returning the soul to its natural, primal peace. Isn’t that the ultimate goal of any art?
P.S. If you enjoyed this atmosphere, you might also like: Bridge: A Velvet Lo-Fi Journey by HSYRM x Silent Orbit x Oddability — another deep dive into velvet soundscapes and gentle textures.
