John Swanke - Horizon Lines (Bud Tapes)

The Slow Music Movement
Jul 4
2 min read

The album cover for John Swanke's, Horizon Lines album showing a pink and green aurora over trees with power lines in the foreground. The artist and release information is hand written around the photo.

John Swanke's 2022 debut LP, From the Muddy Banks of the Nooksack, made an immediate impression here at TSMM HQ, leaping straight into the blog, socials and playlists with it's artisanal blend of lo-fi Americana, ambient folk and field recordings that encapsulate the natural beauty of his surroundings and his outsider vision. Since then he's been mining similar territory, often straying into freewheeling long form voyages, and with varying degrees of psychoactive and sonic intensity. He's a tripper.

John Swanke plays guitar on a rocky shore with snow-capped mountains and cloudy sky in the background, creating a serene and moody scene.

Horizon Lines dropped in May, kicking off 2025's release program and it appears that he has been busy, with three other releases dropping in quick succession, just in case this one resonates with you and you can keep up with the program. This LP length EP starts in ambient fashion with the possibly winter inspired, "Low Clouds" drifting through the speakers in hazy minimal pulses that pleasantly dull the senses leaving an opiated fogginess and feeling of peace..

Next up is the arboreally inspired, "Tangled Roots" whose undulating guitar drone and patient yet insistent acoustic motifs twist in on themselves, hypnotising all those within earshot before fading out to let the drone have its moment in the sun and show off its lysergic charm.

Get comfortable for the fifteen minute long album closing title track. Gentle, ephemeral drones and teasing strums hint at the long journey to come. Stoned thoughts are articulated via gentle picking, some worthy of extension by the effects pedal, others merely pleasant daydreams and left to drift off down the valley as Swanke looks around him, marvels at the view, despairs at peak capitalism and dreams of a better world. It's a wordless meditation on existence, with the soft edged guitar again dissipating to let the machines move in for the last five minutes, the electric hum growing in intensity like dark crowds on the horizon, signalling that all good things come to an end, and not always the way you want.