After starting Sun Araw by himself eight years ago, Cameron Stallones has guided the project through stylistic transformations, lineup iterations, and name variations. But his music has always had a core of jammy dub and hazy New Age. So since Stallones has already worked with some legends of dub—vocal duo the Congos, with whom Sun Araw collaborated on 2012’s excellent *Icon Give Thank—*it’s perhaps inevitable that he’d do the same with a New Age icon.
It’s hard to think of a better candidate for such a gig than Laraaji. Since he first gained renown for his contribution to Brian Eno’s early 80’s Ambient series, the artist born Edward Larry Gordon has made music that’s sold in the New Age section but continually pushes and expands that genre. His ability to glide between sounds and moods—both with his innovative zither playing and his meditative singing—makes him well-equipped for musical partnership, something Stallones has proven adept at too. And both artists are great at creating sonic space, making their music welcoming to voices as big as their own.
As the first recorded product of their recent meetings, Professional Sunflow does indeed see Laraaji and Sun Araw (here the duo of Stallones and long time partner Alex Gray) happily assimilating their respective styles. The results will be familiar to fans of either artist: slow, patient music in which Laraaji hums wordless prayers over Stallone’s looping guitar and Gray’s rattling electronics. In fact, at times *Professional Sunflow *is a little too familiar. There aren't a ton of magical moments like the peaks that emerged on Icon Give Thank. But the music is still entrancing.
Lately Sun Araw’s sound has leaned toward microscopically minimal, and that continues during parts of Professional Sunflow. The album comprises two half-hour live performances split across four sides of vinyl, and each half opens so sparsely you might wonder if something got erased. But eventually both pieces—one recorded in Germany, the other in Switzerland—escalate. In “Liepzig,” a bassy rhythm inspires key Laraaji exhortations, even as it settles into a comfortable groove. More exciting is part two of “Laussane,” whose steady beat provokes a web of keyboard and zither accents, veering into a psych jam not far from Can or Träd, Gräs och Stenar.
The similarity to those communal ensembles indicates how familial *Professional Sunflow *sounds. Everything flows together snugly, and the congenial symbiosis can be remarkably hypnotic. But you might find yourself wishing that decorum had been periodically abandoned for something wilder. Still, such deviations might have sounded forced, and what *Professional Sunflow *lacks in a-ha moments, it makes up for in patient wisdom—and in the potential that this partnership will continue long enough to naturally generate bigger eruptions.
