150g audiophile black vinyl in gatefold packaging. Page McConnell's new solo album. The album was written and recorded in Iceland and Burlington, VT.
In January 2020, shortly before the coronavirus shut down modern life, including travel, McConnell took a road trip that had nothing to do with his normal touring itinerary: a holiday in Iceland. Inevitably, music got made there. But it was unlike anything McConnell had recorded before as a solo artist, for side projects or within the collaborative energies of Phish: fully electronic pieces created on location, in response to the epic landscapes, dramatic weather, and geologic fury that he experienced in Iceland. He also came back energized and determined to keep going amid, indeed despite, lockdown.
Maybe We’re The Visitors is the result: an imaginary voyage charged with eyewitness awe and intense, solitary reflection; expressed without lyrics, vocals or any sign of piano, organ or clavinet.
The narrative flow of Maybe We’re The Visitors – exploration, colony and, finally warning; that, as Icelanders already know, we are only stewards here and nature always has the last word – did not present itself “until I was close to the end,” McConnell confesses. “But I always knew there was something alien about these pieces…”
150g audiophile black vinyl in gatefold packaging. Page McConnell's new solo album. The album was written and recorded in Iceland and Burlington, VT.
In January 2020, shortly before the coronavirus shut down modern life, including travel, McConnell took a road trip that had nothing to do with his normal touring itinerary: a holiday in Iceland. Inevitably, music got made there. But it was unlike anything McConnell had recorded before as a solo artist, for side projects or within the collaborative energies of Phish: fully electronic pieces created on location, in response to the epic landscapes, dramatic weather, and geologic fury that he experienced in Iceland. He also came back energized and determined to keep going amid, indeed despite, lockdown.
Maybe We’re The Visitors is the result: an imaginary voyage charged with eyewitness awe and intense, solitary reflection; expressed without lyrics, vocals or any sign of piano, organ or clavinet.
The narrative flow of Maybe We’re The Visitors – exploration, colony and, finally warning; that, as Icelanders already know, we are only stewards here and nature always has the last word – did not present itself “until I was close to the end,” McConnell confesses. “But I always knew there was something alien about these pieces…”
Great album! I love listening to it in the dark. Vinyl pressing has no flaws.
JohnHardy
November 19, 2022
This is an absolutely mesmerizing journey for the mind. Page has quietly delivered an incredibly immersive movie for the brain in the form of an ambient album that is so much more. It feels like a journey if you listen to it top to bottom. I sincerely felt changed after listening to the vinyl. This is deeply beautiful and infinitely mysterious music. I can completely feel the influence of Iceland in winter in the soundscapes. I was lucky enough to visit there in late 2019 and it felt like the surface of another planet, as many have also said about it. And now after being completely captivated by this musical adventure of an album I have to someday return to Iceland and listen to Maybe We’re The Visitors while being mesmerized by the aurora borealis over the starkly beautiful lava stones! Of course Iceland has Sigur Rós and many other great artists but outside of those domestic bands' work, I'm not sure any other music could do that experience justice and I have yet to see the Northen Lights in person! Thank you Page.