Cindy Lee - Diamond Jubilee

Realistik Studios

Cindy Lee, AKA Patrick Flegel - former member of the now-defunct-though-beloved-Calgary-quartet 'Women' - has staked a bittersweet flag atop of 2024 - a mellow, melancholic mood emanates. The two-hour long, thirty-two track, double-album epic that is Diamond Jubilee feels like it's been beamed in through a time portal; the past has become the present. Sprawling within a limited lane, Diamond Jubilee peers through a small scope, but the sights are set on results of such crystalline opulence. A luxuriously lo-fi, hazey and hypnagogic space is wearily walked.

The dead of night has a certain elegance to it - a nocturnal sparkle. A certain claustrophobic energy holds the world together. A drowsily-weighted fabric keeps things from falling apart. Like a vibrant and beautiful nightmare, hosts that dwell the cellars have their chance to shine. A world of black-and-white lucidity calls your name. Dusty-ass diggin'-in-the-crates fingers have found themselves within palms reach of a few instruments. A quaint sixties essence lines the record. A dust-like drift plumes from the material. A dirty-clean sheen glints as the sun catches Diamond Jubilee in the distance. It may just be a mirage; a beautiful one at that. It's worth the hope of it being real just to experience its otherworldly, spectral qualities. Diamond Jubilee is, at times, tear-inducing - utterly gorgeous, sparse strings show up to add a classy feel to the rough-and-rugged, woozy aesthetic. 

A nostalgic twist shimmers like a disco ball on its last legs; in a semi-dilapidated, semi-abandoned building - the spirits of those that once resided inside slowly stroll around like those at an old folks home.

Diamond Jubilee is Cindy Lee's first project in four years - the length of time to cultivate and bring DJ to fruition speaks for itself; as do the results. 

Tarantino's long lost soundtrack. 

'The leaves are changing, it's the end of the line.'