‘Like Floating Leaves’ was recorded January – July 2022 in East London, using modular synthesizers, Mellotron, Yamaha PSR-6, Waldorf Micro Q, Modal Argon8, OP-1, iPhone, glockenspiel, chimes, effects and field recordings from Venice, Stockholm, New York and Tokyo.

Released by Laaps. 6 March 2023, and available on limited edition LP, CD and digital:

https://wilbolton.bandcamp.com/album/like-floating-leaves
https://laaps.bandcamp.com/album/like-floating-leaves

Credits

Written, recorded and mixed by Wil Bolton in East London, January – July 2022.
Environmental sounds recorded in Venice, Stockholm, New York and Tokyo, 2014-2021.

Mastered by Ian Hawgood
Artwork by Russell Burden
Design by Sprflxgrfzm

Reviews

“Wil Bolton‘s Like Floating Leaves is already the 26th title in the Laaps series. The start of the second quarter: the series where ‘each release starts with the end of the previous one, in sound and visually’ will be complete with #100. Completists beware or start saving. Each of these releases is tied to the season in which it is released, so Like Floating Leaves marks the end of this winter.

It does so with a remarkable fresh and scintillating sound, which, indeed, reminds of floating leaves. Bolton creates the music using various synths and effects, a glockenspiel, chimes, and combines them with field recordings from Venice, Stockholm, New York and Tokyo.  The dark season is definitely ending, listening to this album is like welcoming the return of light.” – Ambientblog

“If you need easing into the week then you’re in luck, ambient stalwart Wil Bolton is back on the ever dependable Laaps Recordings with another enchanted soundscape that certainly echoes the LP title, where the sounds of barely bothered instruments & distant field recordings melt into the ambient ether to illusory utopian effect; but that’s fine, it’s OK to dream a little.” – The Slow Music Movement

“Like Floating Leaves is such a perfect title for Wil Bolton’s latest on laaps. Across nine tracks, a fragile framework emerges for listeners to explore and drift across. Everything here feels delicate, as though any single melody or looping expression could disintegrate before our eyes. Bolton balances this with emotional threads stitching each passage to the next, all of it aloft and wandering in whimsical, asymmetric patterns like leaves in the wind. Resonant swells encase textural field recordings and pointillist sonic arrangements, the sonic corridors opening and closing without warning. It’s not until we’re neck deep in these lovely, emotive soundscapes that we begin to feel the tension; even then, it’s subtle. Chimes glisten up close and in the distance. Invitations for insects and deep inhalations scatter away on wistful synth forms, leaving us lost and rudderless with a feeling of appreciation that we can simply float away.” – Foxy Digitalis

“As I’m sitting down to write this review, there are no leaves floating in the wind, only delicate snowflakes twirling t’wards the frozen soil beneath. Wil Bolton probably had a different picture in mind when titling his latest record Like Floating Leaves, but I do have to say that the coldly crystalline scenery is still quite befitting of the sounds he conjures behind that imagery. This album, representing the end of the current winter season of laaps releases, seems fit to accentuate any moment of fleeting grace; whether it’s a crunchy brown leaf or a lone dainty snowflake hitting the ground is of little import in the now.

To expect masterful ambient music from Like Floating Leaves is a given upon reading the label on which it was released – laaps has become a contact point for many illustrious names in the genre. This wonderful little label (a French one-man operation by the man behind Eilean Rec. and IIKKI) has given me much to adore over the past few years, and it’s safe to say that Bolton has added another facet to its lustrous gem of a discography.

Mingling analogue and digital instrumentation, Bolton creates an aural facsimile to the Japanese art of ukiyo-e: not pictures of a floating world, but a floating world itself expressed through sound. Music for a drifting mind on a cloud of reminiscence, each moment a dear memory that impishly escapes your grasp the moment you lift your hand to reach for it. Anyone in search of that dissociative, buoyant feeling that has your now weightless body but barely tethered to the ground by the gentle gravity of your softly rushing head (or might that just be my own unique experience?), you’ve come to the right place.

Title track “Like Floating Leaves” was enough to convince me of pre-ordering the album for my private collection back in early February, and its sheen has not diminished over repeated listens; if anything, its mixture of warm, whooshing drones, birdsong, and chiming melodies has become even more of a comfort as time went on. Existing in this peaceful space for almost 9 minutes has an unfailingly positive effect on my psyche; it’s almost like sitting in a quiet temple garden, looking out over the peonies and cherry blossoms while letting go of all thoughts and conceptions for a little while. “Of Ruins” then shakes up the unmoving calm with its vivacious, whirring interjections.

Mostly building from one motif or progression, the compositions that make up Like Floating Leaves are quite minimalistic in nature. A perfectly captured stillness, a single instant frozen in time – floating leaves indeed. “Etched” delivers a magnificent contrast of brightly resounding notes and deep bulbous ones, hitting in dripping clusters to allow each other to stand out that much more satisfyingly. It’s almost like a wind chime or a digital boîte à musique, homey and nostalgic in an age of rampant automation. Later on, “A Wave of Verticals” hits on a similar aesthetic: a blizzard of thin metallic notes enveloped in a warming layer of bass and drones. It all feels like a natural extension of one’s surroundings, underpinning and expanding upon that which gently unfurls itself before the invisible touch of our senses.

“Saffron”, named after the gorgeous flower that yields one of the most expensive spices known to man, places soft-footed melodies on top of recurring stabs of static, while “Fumage” uses stumbling, stuttering synths to inject a certain sense of unrest into Like Floating Leaves. Album closer “Into The Shadows” again sounds like a modern, electronic update on the Japanese minimalism of Midori Takada or Satoshi Ashikawa. And thus, an hour of silent rumination comes to a close.

As I’m sitting here trying to conclude this review, the ashes of my now burnt-out incense (it was cinnamon-apple, in case you were curious) cooling on the side table to my right, I am left wondering what else there is to express about this record. Ideally, my outpourings above will have already enticed you into giving this record the time of day. If not, I will leave you with one final thought: listen to Wil Bolton, listen to Like Floating Leaves. It might not make your pockets richer, but your spirit will be nourished for days on end.” – Everything Is Noise

“London based artist & musician Wil Bolton had four albums out this year any of which would be worth lending an ear to, but perhaps none so delicately textured and beautifully packaged as his Laaps release in the Spring. A world traveler as much as a musical one, Like Floating Leaves finds Bolton taking environmental sounds he recorded in Venice, Stockholm, New York and Tokyo between 2014 to 2021 and weaving them into nine luminous soundscapes created using a plethora of instruments including modular synths, mellotron, glockenspiel, chimes, and other effects & electronics.” – Stationary Travels

“Wil Bolton has always had this ability to create a pointillist ambiance reminiscent of a summer home in the countryside. Lying in a rocking chair in the shade of a poplar tree, observing the sky dotted with a few cottony cumulus clouds. Listening to the life that animates this small town away from the hustle and bustle of civilization; the neighbours’ discussions, the insects awakening the garden, the southern breeze caressing the skin. Each sound element is in its place despite the relative opulence of the compositions; remove one, and everything is depopulated. A superb example of what the exciting Laaps project continues to offer us.” – Tartine de contrebasse