Violet Masks - The Charm of March

​Violet Masks

The Charm of March
self-released; 2023

By Matt Jensen

For over two decades, Violet Masks has been operating as a spectral presence in the underground, quietly amassing a staggering 50 albums that slip between ambient, noise, industrial, and the more liminal edges of psychedelia. The New York-based solo project thrives in the self-contained realm of DIY releases, unspooling work that feels as much like transmissions from an abandoned radio tower as traditional albums. One of its latest, The Charm of March, is a sprawling, dread-laced soundscape that twists between beauty and unease, tapping into a kind of cosmic horror lurking just beyond the veil.  

The title track, “The Charm of March,” opens with a calm, almost meditative pulse, but there’s something subtly alien beneath the surface—a texture reminiscent of Boards of Canada’s hazy nostalgia, as if the sound is corroding in real time. As the album progresses, the descent becomes more palpable, more immersive. “Old Masks (In Boxes)” stands as the record’s uneasy centerpiece, layering tension-drenched spoken word over a surprisingly rhythmic passage that verges on post-rock. It’s one of those rare moments where Violet Masks feels like it's gesturing toward structure before dissolving back into the fog.  

Elsewhere, “The Cold Closet” submerges the listener in a muffled, liquid world, while “Afternoon Glow” plays like a fading memory, its warmth dissolving at the edges. There’s something deeply cinematic about the way “Zombie in the Yard” conjures horror-film tension, or how “Superstitions” unspools in hushed whispers from the shadows. Even in its more delicate moments—like the soft glimmers of “Thick Carpet” or “Stairwell”—the album never fully shakes its sense of quiet apprehension.  

But nothing looms larger than “Becoming Phantoms,” an almost twenty-minute closer that feels like stepping into a haunted house where the walls breathe. The sheer length of The Charm of March makes it a difficult album to take in one sitting, but within its sprawl is a meticulous balance of light and dread, decay and beauty. Fans of Tim Hecker, The Caretaker, or Xiu Xiu will find much to lose themselves in—if they’re willing to sit with the ghosts.

violetmasks.com

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