There’s something hauntingly beautiful about an album that shouldn’t exist. New Age Oblivion, the latest offering from Harvest Runes, is a ghost record from a past timeline, lovingly recovered and reassembled by composer James Wolff, who leads this rotating musical collective with the quiet determination of someone trying to build cathedrals out of broken glass.
These songs were born in the belly of a forgotten band—The Cascades—who never quite made it past the local scene in D.C. But years later, the songs still burned in Wolff’s heart. Now, resurrected under the Harvest Runes banner, New Age Oblivion feels like the sonic equivalent of finding an old journal in a flooded basement and realizing every page still slaps.
“String Theory” is a standout, blending mythic imagery with glitchy orchestral arrangements that sound like something Sigur Rós might’ve made if they were raised on protest poetry and Radiohead b-sides. “Lakeview” is a near-religious experience, like watching the sunrise on a dead planet. “Park Ranger” is all noir Americana, unraveling a dusty love story in a forest full of ghosts and shotguns.
What makes the record shimmer is its emotional texture. This isn’t clean, over-produced indie-pop. This is rough around the edges, fragile in spots, held together by conviction and cello bows. You hear it in every breath of the horns, every quiver of the string section, every whispered line from Wolff.
There’s a quiet ache running through this album, something like acceptance, something like defiance. As if Wolff is saying, “Even if no one heard these songs, they were still worth finishing.” Lucky for us, we get to hear them. And if you let New Age Oblivion play straight through, in the dark, with your eyes closed, you just might believe again.
