A Berry Feast Vol 6: The Compilation – A Sonic Odyssey Worth Remembering
Released in 2019 by Austria’s Feathered Coyote Records, A Berry Feast Vol 6: The Compilation is a genre-blurring adventure that feels less like an album and more like a treasure map. With its sprawling mix of Folk, World, & Country, Electronic, and Rock influences—sprinkled with styles like Krautrock, Psychedelic Rock, Drone, Folk Rock, Experimental, and Avantgarde—it’s the kind of record that doesn’t just sit in your playlist; it lives there, whispering secrets you didn’t know you needed to hear.
Compiled by Ulrich Rois and brought to life visually through Swantje Musa’s evocative artwork, this compilation pulls together tracks from various artists into something cohesive yet delightfully unpredictable. It’s not perfect, but who wants perfection when you can have intrigue?
Two tracks stand out as personal head-turners. First up is “The Charge Of The First Light.” This one grabs you right away with its hypnotic groove—a slow build that feels like sunrise over a desert horizon. There’s something about how the guitars shimmer against the steady pulse of percussion that makes it stick. You don’t just listen to this track; you inhabit it. By the time it fades out, you're left wondering where those five minutes went. It’s meditative without being sleepy, powerful without trying too hard.
Then there’s “And When The Sky Was Opened,” which closes the album on a haunting note. If the rest of the compilation feels like wandering through a dense forest, this track is the moment you stumble into a clearing and realize the stars are brighter than you remembered. Its ethereal drones weave together with sparse instrumentation, creating a soundscape that’s both unsettling and beautiful. Listening to it feels like standing at the edge of something vast and unknowable. Not exactly cheerful, but unforgettable all the same.
What makes A Berry Feast Vol 6 special isn’t just the music itself—it’s the way it invites curiosity. Each track feels distinct yet connected, like chapters in a book written by different authors who somehow share the same dream logic. Sure, some moments might feel overly experimental or meandering if you’re looking for instant gratification, but stick with it, and you’ll find rewards hidden in plain sight.
One thing worth mentioning? For an album so rooted in experimentation, it never loses touch with humanity. Whether it’s the folkish warmth creeping into “Petiole Fragment” or the raw energy of “Braindance,” these songs remind us that even avant-garde art comes from real people making real choices. That grounding keeps things relatable, even when the sounds get weird (and oh, they do).
In the end, A Berry Feast Vol 6 feels like a gift wrapped in mystery paper. It won’t appeal to everyone, but for those willing to dive in, it offers a listening experience that lingers long after the final note fades. And honestly? Sometimes weird is exactly what we need.
P.S. Whoever decided to put drone next to krautrock deserves a medal—or maybe just another cup of coffee. Either way, good call.
