This album feels like the moments where you mean to look something up and forget what it was, walking into a room and not remembering why you’re there, or like trying to remember the name of some actress who was in that one movie you really liked, god what was the name of that one again?
Radio Amor is an hour-long bout of radio static and low, unintelligible voices creating a thick and dense, yet completely empty space. Between it all you’ll find short glimpses of a piano chord you seem to recognize, or maybe a word or two out of a conversation you weren’t meant to hear, like pressing your ear against your bedroom door and trying to figure out what your parents are arguing about. Low grumbles and a pop of something else, you try and piece it all together. The beauty of this album is that it embraces the empty space, the things you can’t quite pick up on. To be completely lost in that moment, the one where you can’t remember why you’re suddenly standing still at the threshold of the guest bedroom. It doesn’t last long, but if you could possibly imagine stretching out that single instance for hours, Hecker has given it the perfect soundtrack.