The word Occasus means downfall, end, or the rising and falling of heavenly
bodies. The title is apt in more ways than one: while the emotional tone of the
album denotes bittersweet feelings of conclusiveness, it also perfectly
soundtracks the quiet moments when we look up to the sky, and humbly relearn
the smallness of our lives as cosmic objects churn slowly overhead with bewitching
indifference. Occasus feels deeply personal, private, and hushed yet simultaneously
grand, colossal, and profound. Remarkably Kenniff is able to capture
micro and macro with equal fidelity.
Tangential to prior Goldmund material, there are a few moments of Occasus that
feel dark and menacing like 'No Story' and 'Thread', both of which broach urgent
paranoia, and provide a refreshing counterweight to the idyll typical of the
project. Kenniff’s music has always been unquestionably gorgeous, but seeing it
set against an occasionally manic backdrop makes the moments of light shine that
much brighter. Even when elements of Occasus play by the rules harmonically,
they tend to unfold with a satisfying level of rhythmical disregard. "I like mistakes,
I like when things don't go perfectly,' says Kenniff of his wabi-sabi ethos, 'I do have
a tendency to want for things to be perfect and precise, but I have to also realize
that a lot of things I like about music and art are very rough and imp
