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Since taking on the Slow Dancing Society mantle in 2006, Pacific Northwest-based Drew Sullivan has issued more than two dozen collections built from radiant analog synthesis, treated guitars, and an intuitive sense of texture. The Disappearing Collective, Vol. I (PITP, 2020) was an essential expression of reverberating beauty pulled from the darkness of an uncertain era, and six years on, The Disappearing Collective, Vol. II (PITP, 2026) expands on that theme with the wisdom and resolve that have emerged since. “It started with considering where I was in my life back then,” Sullivan notes, “and a desire to reimagine that peculiar headspace, to play in its world again with a different perspective.”
“I Never Will Forget Those Nights” opens the album with a pensive hum and swirling synths over snow-tire ambience, as subtle chord changes mimic shifts in wind direction across a dormant field. There is a particular kind of nocturnal comfort here, not entirely of this world, but familiar in its warmth and welcoming pull. “A Light in the Window at Home” rises from a mysterious howl beneath angelic drones, each element in complementary contrast to the other, while the rumbling bass of “Ephemeris” underscores subtle tonal explorations, smeared across a clock face whose second hand ticks patiently in the background. The quiet power of these pieces illustrates a mastery of world-building through nuanced arrangement and wordless storytelling, each with its own peaks, valleys, and blind corners.
About the album title’s origins, Sullivan cites a line by slow-folk artist Matthew Ryan, who sings, “The things we love will one day disappear / First slow, and then so quick”. This simple, cutting notion applies at the personal scale, as well as the cosmic, and describes perfectly the complicated dance of honoring loss through memory while remaining receptive to the joys of the present. As much as ever, the job of the artist is to return us to ourselves, to tilt our gaze upward and offer a hand on the shoulder amid tender desolation.
On “Tenshi”, soft rain falls in veils behind a slow, crystalline keyboard theme that recalls the spacious, reverent beauty of Hiroshi Yoshimura. Quiet strings develop beneath panning pulses that feel like delicate Morse code messages filtering in from across the ether, conveying some nebulous message to those back home. Elsewhere, we hear blissed-out, shimmering synth arpeggiations, softly glitching fragments of melody, and other disarmingly organic forms built from a shapeshifting combination of guitar, keys, and software.
Closing track, “Blue Suburban Skies”, unfolds with understated momentum, driven by sparse percussion and an array of harmonic textures that recall the most heartbreaking and emotive parts of the legendary score to Twin Peaks. Halfway through, a rich string arrangement joins a cascade of synthesizers to perfectly summarize Sullivan’s wide-ranging skills and worlds of contrast. “I am always working on different projects, and have had a ‘Volume II’ folder for a while, growing as things presented themselves from various sessions,” Sullivan says. “Ultimately, the songs tell me where they want to go.”
supported by 15 fans who also own “The Disappearing Collective Vol. II”
Wonderful electronic instrumentation makes these tracks terrific background music while reading or writing. There's enough going on to reward attentive listening without being distracting if it's turned on for ambience. johnpenola
supported by 14 fans who also own “The Disappearing Collective Vol. II”
A classic. The album who introduced me to Warmth's music, the Archives/Faint labels and a plethora of other musicians. A must have for any ambient/drone afcionado. Manuel
In an homage to early clicks 'n' cuts, Harz employs the art of microsampling to create these nine hypnotic numbers. Bandcamp New & Notable May 15, 2022
supported by 14 fans who also own “The Disappearing Collective Vol. II”
The absolute best ambient compilation I’ve had the pleasure of listening to. This on repeat and the Past Inside the Present radio station, which is one of the best things to happen in recent memory, have been taking turns filling my house with blissful sounds lately. Thank you 🙏 aelia