That's another release buried by overgrowing pile f records in my studio (I definitely need to hire someone to render some idea of order into this chaos!). In the annals of environmental soundscapes, where the line between music and meteorology blurs, Aperus' "Weather Anomalies" stands as a testament to the unpredictable, often surreal interplay between nature and human experience. Released on September 5th, 2021, this album emerges from a backdrop as chaotic and bewildering as the year 2020 itself, as many of us keep on remember. With wildfires sparked by lightning and an air thick with smoke, Aperus (aka Brian McWilliams) channels his existential angst into an audio journey that is as much a psychological coping mechanism as it is a musical endeavor.

Let’s start with the possible psychological underpinning. McWilliams, facing the apocalyptic fires near Santa Fe, sought solace in creation — a classic Freudian move of sublimation, turning destructive impulses into art. This album is a reflection of his psyche at a time when reality felt more like a surrealist painting than everyday life. Jokes aside, "Weather Anomalies" isn't just an album; it's a sound diary of environmental and emotional turbulence.

Aperus approaches his work with the precision of a scientist and the heart of an artist. He revisits "Leaves, Waves" from his earlier album "Tumbleweed" by combining those field recordings with contemporary sonic technology. His tools of choice — enlisted in his Bandcamp space Soma Lyra-8, DSI OB6, Korg Trinity, Roland Juno 106, among others — are wielded with the expertise of a sound chemist in a lab, concocting new aural compounds.

The album opens with "Echoes of Thunderbirds", an 8-minute journey that feels like standing in the middle of a thunderstorm with nothing but your thoughts and the raw, elemental sounds of nature. It's both a continuation and a reinvention of the ideas explored in "Leaves, Waves". The track layers field recordings with analog synths, creating a space where the ancient and the modern coalesce.

"Somewhere Else, not here" featuring Karla K McWilliams on flutes, serves as a brief respite, a 2-minute and 33-second escape from reality, suggesting perhaps that the best way to cope with disaster is to imagine yourself anywhere but the present. It's a fleeting, almost ethereal interlude that sets the stage for the epic title track.

"Weather Anomalies", the album's centerpiece, spans nearly 16 minutes, unfolding like a scientific experiment in sound. McWilliams uses recordings of a storm from 2003, captured with a pair of microphones pointed skyward. The result is an immersive experience, a sonic documentary of weather in its most raw and unfiltered form. This track, more than any other, exemplifies the album's thesis: nature is both artist and antagonist.

Aperus' decision to mix everything live through an analog mixer adds a layer of authenticity and immediacy to the album. In a world obsessed with digital perfection, his choice to leave the sound of mics distorting in the rain is a bold statement. It's a reminder that imperfection is a part of the human experience—especially poignant in a year marked by so much unpredictability and chaos.
"Descending from Alto" and "Abandoned Rituals" continue this theme, each track a brief yet potent exploration of sound and emotion. "Up in Flames", co-written with Ivan Block, offers a more collaborative dynamic, the guitar adding a screaming resonance and a layer of half alien and half human touch to the otherwise atmospheric soundscapes.

"Collective Memory" (definitely the track deserving my heart on the tracklist) and "Mirage or Vision" delve into the subconscious, using processed sounds and loops to create an almost dreamlike state. These tracks are introspective, and potentially encourage listeners in digging into mental images and memories.

The album closes with "Shadow of a Shadow", featuring Geoscience on modular synth. It's a fitting end, a haunting reflection that lingers long after the final note has faded. It's a reminder that shadows, like memories of a turbulent year, are always just a step behind us.

What can I say as a conclusion, but highlighting the act that Aperus has crafted a work that is deeply personal yet universally resonant, a true anomaly in the best sense of the word? Maybe nothing, and just keep on listening.