When Carameladora states that her music “exists between the boundaries of genres,” she is exactly right and Traces is the perfect showcase of exactly that. Rising out of a gorgeously hypnotic classical-esque, acoustic riff, it quickly gathers around it gentle clubland beats, washes of electronica, cinematic guitar lines, chiming electronica, sweeping strings and angelic and otherworldly drones.

And if that seems like a lot to fit in, it is a testament to her ability to compile and compose that all of those sounds and sonics have their place and fit together perfectly.

Traces is the perfect collision of grace and groove, beat and beauty, song and cinematics. A gentle, rising wave of sound, a musical tide that ebbs and flows between genres, ever-changing but also part of a consistent whole. In a world where musical labels have become meaningless and genres a relic of the past, Traces is even more adventurous and experimental than most of the music made by people embracing the freedoms of the modern creative world.

It is genreless and it is gorgeous. It is ambient and it is awesome.

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Musician, scribbler, historian, gnostic, seeker of enlightenment, asker of the wrong questions, delver into the lost archives, fugitive from the law of averages, blogger, quantum spanner, left footed traveller, music journalist, zenarchist, freelance writer, reviewer and gemini. People have woken up to worse.

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