Album Review: Awaiting The Dawn by Various
Released in 1997, Awaiting The Dawn is a gem of Canadian electronic music that dives deep into the ambient genre. Hailing from Flaming Fish Music and Velvet Empire, this compilation brings together an eclectic mix of tracks, each with its own atmospheric pull. With credits like Brett Smith handling artwork and layout, Scott Hatch as executive producer, and mastering by Brian C. Janes, it’s clear the album was crafted with care.
The vibe? Think hazy soundscapes, ethereal tones, and moments that feel like floating through space—or maybe a dream you don’t want to wake up from. It’s not just background noise; it’s a journey. And while every track has something to offer, two stand out for different reasons.
First up is “Forgiven Frost.” This one grabs your attention right away—not because it’s loud or flashy but because it feels alive. Imagine walking through a forest at dawn, where everything is quiet except for the occasional rustle of leaves. That’s what this track does—it creates a world around you without needing words. You can almost see your breath in the cold air, hear the crunch of frost underfoot. It sticks with you because it’s immersive, simple yet profound.
Then there’s “John Carpenter,” which might throw you off at first if you're expecting typical synthwave vibes à la the director himself. Instead, it's darker, more brooding—a slow burn that builds tension without ever fully releasing it. If you’ve ever felt uneasy in a room alone, this track captures that mood perfectly. It lingers long after it ends, leaving behind a sense of mystery that makes you hit replay just to figure it out.
Other highlights include “Hovering Under The Deep” and “Silver Shining, Brightly Gleaming,” both of which showcase the range of styles within the ambient umbrella. But honestly, the entire album flows so well that skipping tracks feels wrong.
What strikes me most about Awaiting The Dawn is how timeless it feels. Sure, it came out in the ‘90s, but these sounds still resonate today. Maybe it’s the lack of vocals or the way each piece lets you fill in the blanks with your imagination. Whatever it is, it works.
In the end, this record reminds me of those nights when you lie awake staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. It’s comforting, unsettling, beautiful—all rolled into one. Oddly enough, listening to it made me realize how much I miss cassettes. Go figure.
Rating: 8/10
Final Thought: If silence had a soundtrack, this would be it—but way cooler.
