I've never been fond of using the term "New Age" when discussing music. Broadly speaking, "New age" is a term commonly employed to categorize those who colonize or attempt to rationalize areas of knowledge that aren't inherently colonial or scientific. A prominent example  is Yoga.

Looking back in history or delving into Hindu religious texts, we discover that Yoga is fundamentally a religious practice and a pragmatic approach to Hindu philosophical systems. Its primary objective is to utilize various movements and breathing techniques to attain an altered state of mind.

However, in recent years, Yoga has been commercialized and practiced with different intentions. Some teachers adopt a fitness-oriented approach, using scientific explanations to advertise potential benefits derived from the practice. On the other hand, some Yoga practitioners seek social media approval or aim to achieve complex and aesthetically pleasing poses solely for Instagram photos. In both cases, this detachment from its original spiritual roots is evident.

In the realm of music, I find this term unfitting. Music is abstract, enigmatic, crafted with elements of time, sound-waves, and silence. How could this be twisted in a way that allows us to label it as 'new age'? In any case, perhaps the only true 'New age' action we can take is to write and read about music. Ha!

Some authors attribute the title of the father of New Age music to Toru Takemitsu due to his introduction of non-western instruments into the classical orchestra. Yet, I question whether this truly qualifies as "New Age." In essence, Takemitsu's actions were the opposite, introducing "decolonized" ways of writing music and non-western instruments to the orchestra.

However, I've gone on a tangent about religion and "New Age" because the project I'm about to review is often labeled as such. The project in question is Omni Gardens, and its latest album bears an intriguing title reminiscent of a symbol from ancient Greek mythology, a society that significantly influenced Western civilization.

The golden pear

The apple carries significant symbolic weight in both biblical and Greek mythologies, representing wisdom, immortality, and greed. In Greek myths, we encounter golden apples, beautiful and nutritious treasures used as gifts by the gods for the gods. Some are inedible and used to bait greedy characters. This greedy character of the apple is accentuated with the biblical book of genesis, where the apple is the origin of all huma sins.

If we merge these Greek tales with the Bible, the apple holds immense symbolic power. Our contemporary culture reflects this, seen in various movies, novels, and even popular games like Minecraft, depicting the golden apple of discord.

However, Omni Gardens uses the title "Golden Pear." While the pear holds symbolic importance in Greek mythology and Eastern cultures—associated with healing and prosperity—its symbolic impact hasn't permeated popular culture as strongly as the apple. In fact, right now i can't recall many myths, movies, or novels featuring a golden pear.

Nevertheless, perhaps this absence serves as an advantage, allowing us to imagine "something like an apple" made of gold, devoid of its greedy connotations, discord, and love-related prophecies.

Omni Gardens provides the perfect name to envision a golden fruit resembling an apple for purely aesthetic reasons. Whether intentional or unintentional, this feels like a clever critique of the so-called "New Age" label for music. What is very clear on the intentions of this author, is that with such a title, he is inviting us to read the titles of the songs, and try to recall them in a purely pictorial sense. I believe these songs are made to accompany the listener while he goes to a vivarium or doing gardening.

Now, let's delve into the musical elements of the album:

The sound, instruments, and themes all remind me greatly of the now acclaimed "Plantasia" album by Mort Garson. Plantasia aimed to create music for plants to "hear," inspired by plants themselves. Despite sharing several musical elements with Plantasia, "Golden Pear" adopts a more minimalistic approach in its composition.

While Plantasia mirrors the complexity, forms, and colors of plants, Golden Pear seems to focus more on the experience of gardening—drawing attention to rain jackets, plant shops, and seasons.

The music exudes a charming and endearing quality, employing ascending melodic lines performed by tuned percussion accompanied with arpeggios, and simple diatonic melodies with Moog-like synths. Although each track shares similar characteristics, the composer adeptly infuses a distinct ambiance into each, evoking the feeling of various parts of a quaint farming town.

I can easily envision replacing the original tracks of games like Harvest Moon or Stardew Valley with those from the Golden Pear album, creating the same serene, gardening atmosphere.

If any of you try listening to this album while tending to your gardening chores, please share your experience in the comments!

Author: Martín Cacho

Martín is a video game composer, producer and writer from Sonora, México.