On Dundita's tender debut in 2018 direct line to my Creatorthe Queens singer-songwriter explored spirituality, grief and the importance of lineage in a series of painterly details. Her work casts soul music through an experimental prism, combining shuffling beats and sparse guitar and bass around a voice with the sonorous grace of a cello. Six years later, Dundita returns with the mind is a wondera contemplative and enchanting EP largely recorded in Berlin and released last summer. Here, she expands on her haunting, heartfelt music, creating an expressive mesh of atmospheric, soul and pop music over languid piano settings.
Dundita hasn't been absent since her first LP. in March she made her debut Sound Riveran audio-visual project centered on New York's East River. To do this, he wandered around in a portable recorder, using it to pick up the errant sounds of the neighborhood, or submerged it in the river itself to see what echoes he could gather. Excavation use of field records extends to the mind is a wonderwhere quotes from life add depth and grain to meditations on mental health and self-confidence. Piano and the sound of chirping birds and insects captured during a trip to California's Redwood National Park open the EP, giving way to the softly strummed guitar of “multi”. “There's been times I've been in pain, but I try not to show it,” she admits, before a curling melody flips her mood: “Ooh, believe it, bitch / I'm shining and overflowing.” Vocal memos of friends, family and herself mark the EP with a sense of community and collaboration that has long been a staple of her creative output.
dundita combines this emerging sense of confidence with soft music. “Yeah, I don't mind not waiting/Lord, it made me patient,” he sings over warm guitar on the short, lovely “planetary,” completing the prayer. direct line to my Creator. Her penchant for soothing sounds is a way for her to shed inhibitions and find truth in stark simplicity, whether through lyrics or compositions. Chicago musician Erik Hunter (aka Matthew Skillz) contributes a jaunty, rippling bass on “alright!”. New York-based bassoonist Joy Guidry's hypnotic, soulful performance moves like a tide behind Dundita's impassioned pleas. “Silence is violence, baby, don't hide it,” she sings softly, “Still your smile turns me on so much.”
