Lately I've been drawn to music's ghosts - records that seem more fit for the fresh surroundings of a tiled, nameless room, somewhere where the sun hasn't visited in weeks and the culture decides to stop marking time. Anna Domino has stayed in this room, perhaps lived in it for months at a time. She doesn't know how long exactly, and anyway, it might not matter at all.
After dropping out of high school and hitch-hiking her way across America and Mexico, Anna finally ended up in New York, putting her electronics and sound design studies to good use. A two-week visit turned into 20 years and by the time she moved to Europe, she had countless collaborations and one mysterious Belgian-released album under her belt: East and West.
Domino contains a Julee Cruise way of moving without the starlights, as if Cruise had gone to sleep one night and woken feeling a bit more...winter. I've never been able to describe Domino void of seasons, or ice, or a brisk chill that finds its way under your door, or any other kind of natural but mostly unnoticed phenomenon. She's absent but aware of her lack of density in your life, in your idea of her life, maybe even in her own. Regardless, she still finds her way underneath the floorboards.
By Lauren Ball