Starting with the first, ‘Dodone,’ of the album’s five tracks (all
taking ancient Greek names) Zoe Efstathiou’s playing is unexpectedly
aggressive, propelled by some kind of inner energy, I guess. As I
always try to make the connections between the title of the
recording and the music itself, the word chaos (imagine standing at
the edge of it) can come to mind, while listening.
Eftathiou utilizes the keyboard as a weapon of anger or sorrow,
leaving small silences in between to ease the tension. This is a
solo piano recording indeed but one that doesn’t bring only the
keyboard on the forefront. The acoustics of the studio, how the
pedals of the piano are being used, and the willingness of its
creator -of course- resolve into building, right from the start, a
cinematic feeling, some kind of otherworldly ambience. Like
molecules that travel into space before they vanish into it’s vast,
chaotic, openness.
The music on Edge of Chaos, clocking just over half an hour, provoke
the listener to leave the notion of solo piano playing totally
behind. Is it an experiment? It is. Could it be an ambient
recording? Definitely. It is also a “heavy” listening, one that
takes over the space where you are right at the moment you press
play. Impressive in creating spaces, where the album can stand on
its own, without the listener thinking of trivial things like time.
Ranging from the margins of pop up to Cagean piano experiments, the
recording of Edge of Chaos is a timeless listen, one of those you
will want to experience again many years after the first time,
without wondering when was this.