Ugasanie - Freedom And Loneliness

Cryo Chamber: 2020

Ah, the life of the hermit. Unshackled by societal necessities, uninhibited by that which is expected of you. The master of your realm, answering to no one, only subservient to the whims of nature herself. Such self-determinate isolation has its drawbacks though, most prominent of which the crippling depression that can settle in detached from any and all communal comforts. Some claim the land is your company, connecting to the essence of mother earth itself, but what happens when even that's a barren waste? Rock lichen makes poor conversationalists, much less whatever stray migratory bird happens your way. Life's proven astoundingly resilient to most climates upon this planet's surface (and below!) but there's still regions few dare to traverse for good reason.

This is of course taking things to an extreme, but then Pavel Malyshkin has never shied away from exploring the most inhospitable clime's of terra firma. Throw in the existential dread that comes with trying to survive in such environments has its own intriguing considerations where dark ambient is concerned. I think that's what piqued my interest enough to spring for another Ugasanie outing, the title. There's some romanticism in living off grid, absolutely, but what cost does it come with? How addled does the brain become when so detached from society? Do you turn into some affable goof like Radagast The Brown (as seen in the Peter Jackson Hobbit movies), or perhaps something far worse, far more sinister and self-destructive?

I wish I could say Freedom And Loneliness gets deep into such concepts, but no, it's a fairly straight-forward drone excursion Ugasanie takes us on. It's still captivating in that frigid way most of his releases tend to sound, but this is quite well-tread territory I've traversed from him by this point. Kind of the reason I started drifting more towards his Silent Universe alias, not to mention a couple collaborations with other dark ambient artists.

Things start off promising, in a journeyman sort of way. The first few tracks paint a picture of arriving at your new residence due to circumstances outside your control (damn, that's some frigid waters sounding in Cold Coast). Since you're now here in this Dead Wasteland, however, you might as well make the best of it, maybe even conduct a little Ritual to get better acquainted with your surroundings.

Following that though, the album goes about as deep into the foreboding drone as Ugasanie ever gets. Which hey, does keep the album's theme consistent: the relatively 'upbeat' first half of freedom contrasted with the bitter loneliness that follows. It unfortunately leaves the second half rather repetitive and uneventful, save a sombre piano piece for closer Sorrow. And I don't want to undersell how effective Pavel is at creating an appropriate mood and tone given the subject matter, I've just heard him do it plenty times before. If Freedom And Loneliness happens to be your first Ugasanie session though, then this is a good primer into his body of work.

Dead Melodies - Fabled Machines Of Old

Cryo Chamber: 2021

I haven't been back to Tom Moore's project for a while, and it's not for a lack of interest. Okay, maybe a little, his albums seemingly often getting into territory Atrium Carceri treads, mostly explorations of old civilizations and such. Which hey, I'm down for on occasion, but I tend to favour such sojourns when we're seeing some future-tech involved as well, which is why Sabled Sun hits my sweet spot more than Simon Heath's other works. Dead Melodies doesn't really go that way though, so you understand why half a decade passed before I wanted to check out another album from him.

Check that. Less than a year went by from when I reviewed Primal Destinations and this one dropped, but it was a long while before I went back to the Cryo Chamber fold. As for why this one, well, just look at the cover. Now that's some future-tech I can get behind! What even are those? Marauding machinery? Wandering harvesters?

Whatever the case, my mind is already aflutter with images of trekking through rural environments long abandoned by whatever advanced peoples lived there. Or maybe they're still functioning, relentlessly going about their business unknowing and uncaring of what their purpose once was, only content that they can continue doing it until the gears of their machinery finally give in to entropy. Makes me wonder if the bots and A.I. flooding our social medias will continue shit-talking to each other long after we've gone the way of the dodo, a forever flamewar for no future.

Anyhow, there's a lot more acoustic guitar strumming in Fabled Machines Of Old compared to the other Dead Melodies albums I covered. There were some melodic elements in those records, true, but Tom was more focused on the cinematic drone aspects of his compositions there. When a piece like Nightrunners features field recordings of crackling fire while a guitar gently plays with orchestral swells in support, you really get a sense of being out and about wandering woods and traversing fields. Preferably at night, when said fabled machines of old won't so easily detect you.

Speaking of, Simon does pop up as Atrium Carceri for a couple tracks, lending some industrial clank and grind to the decaying pastoral setting, a 'comforting' reminder of the menace lurking about. As if that wasn't enough, Northumbria drops in On Crimson Water for a little layered, atonal, wall-of-noise string action, as if things weren't bleak enough. Mostly though, its Dead Melodies' show, flitting between sombre reflective moods, tranquil field recordings, ominous drones, and, as a gentle reminder of the humanity remains, post-rock guitar ambience.

Not the most uplifting album, then. Sometimes though, its the small things that can keep the spirit afloat, and Fabled Machines Of Old excels in finding those in its repeated return to a simple guitar strum. A lone soul of humanity standing firm in the face of mechanisms running unattended and amok. Oh yeah, that's those Sabled Sun feels.

Tineidae - Exo

Cryo Chamber: 2020

Not that Cryo Chamber left the sci-fi side of dark ambient on the sidelines – indeed, it was Simon Heath's Sabled Sun project that helped kick the label off – but it wasn't a primary focus for much of its early years. For whatever reason though, this decade saw quite the expansion of exposure for the sub-genre within. Maybe he's just a fan of the YouTube channel DUST, featuring all sorts of sci-fi shorts? I definitely could see some of the Cryo's output soundtracking a few of those vids, heck maybe even inspiring some. That Solundenia from Skrika, for instance. Good God, what nightmare fuel that would create.

Pavlo Storonsky flitted about a few genres in his early days as Tineidae, his first couple albums on Tympanik Audio of Lights and Shadows running through as much synthwave, dubstep and IDM as anything ambient leaning. Not entirely unexpected, those some of the more influential styles of music in the early '10s as he was coming up. For sure there was a dystopian lean to his works, but nothing to suggest he'd take a full turn to the cinematic drone side. Then he took a break for half a decade, re-emerging with Slowly Drown In Static, a total shift to cinematic drone and ambient. Sounds like a 'proof-of-concept' in getting chummy with the Cryo crew, where he's mostly resided since (a plethora of self-released items notwithstanding).

As far as sci-fi concepts go, Exo is surprisingly straight-forward, and doesn't really get into much cosmic horror. Whether as a scout ship or a salvage crew, you've come across a derelict star cruiser, its history a mystery. For sure something terrible happened here, and as you're wandering its empty corridors, you piece together what might have happened – some sort of struggled ensued. Most of of the 'why' and 'how' is inconsequential for your purposes though, more focused on gathering whatever useful materials and data you can before leaving behind the rest of this abandoned mass of metal. There's a cruel irony that whatever the former inhabitants of this vessel endured is rendered down to nothing more than a passing thought.

Still, the music within isn't all doom and gloom, in that there's actual melody that will latch onto your brain, not just atonal mood atmosphere and creepy sound effects. Opener Blacklight Trail could be a film theme in of itself, the rousing string and ominous choir pads doing a wonderful job establishing mood and tone for what your in for. And goodness, featured twinkly arp synths for Patterns In the Sky? How often does Cryo Chamber go that ultra-melodic?

There's still plenty of ominous and menacing sounds on display, but often tempered with subtle musical moments too (synthwave arps in Battle Scars, overbearing synths in Stars So Bright, My Eyes Hurt). Things slowly tapering off to reflective following Reconnection, reaching final track Epilogue on a suitable contemplative note. It's a surprising amount of feelings for a record mostly about salvage work.

Dronny Darko & Ugasanie - Dark Source Of The North

Cryo Chamber: 2022

While I've kept tabs on Pavel Malyshkin's various going-ons, I can't say the same for Dronny Darko. Indeed, after my initial honeymoon with all things dark ambient waned (a dark honeymoon!), I let his catalogue slip from my interests. Part of that was the fact he basically fell back on collaborative works, sometimes with other Cryo Chamber regulars like ProtoU (of course) and Alphaxone, other times with new-comers to the Cryo family (Ajna, Radioactive Immersion, G M Slater). Felt a bit of a challenge keeping tabs if I wasn't already familiar with whoever he was working with, especially for an artist I came to realize I could only really take in smaller portions.

Yeah, that's the other reason: Oleh's brand of drone was a bit on the... crushing side of things. I gotta' be prepared to be put into a particular mood after coming away from one of his outings, one I'm not always so keen on being in. Ultimately, dark ambient's all about putting you into something of a negative space - sometimes I just want to feel the equivalent of being inside an isolation chamber, of which Ugasanie is extremely good at (a cold, frigid, remote isolation chamber, if you will). Dronny tends to paint specific pictures within such negative spaces, which can be fascinating to experience within your psyche, but rather disconcerting if you're not in the right frame of mind for it.

So you can see how the two would find sonic simpatico in their scenarios: one creates the space, the other provides the details. In this case, discovering something unreal in the frozen wastes of our Arctic. At least, I assume it's our Arctic. Maybe it's another planet's Arctic? They already did one album covering similar ground, Arctic Gates, but I assume this is simply another exploration of said territory. Still, would be neat if they ended up crafting some long-form narrative out of all their works. Maybe get a Cryo Chamber fanfic writer on it!

Actually, Dark Source Of The North reminds me mostly of an earlier Ugasanie album I've covered, Eye Of Tunguska. Not so clear-cut a storyline as that cinematic drone piece crafted, but more in how things play out. The early Search Of An Object, some sort of Anomaly in an inhospitable domain, coming within its terrifying awesome yet graceful Presence. Establishing some sort of Contact in doing so (ooh, here's were Dronny's effects really come into play), realizing in doing so has horrifying Consequences. You then Transition into... what, exactly? Another being? Into another realm of existence? A sort of permafrost state of mind? It's not clear – cinematic dark drone loves its ambiguity – but whatever it is, it can be found On The Other Side Of The Arctic Gates.

Ooh, seems crystalline, at first. Then... kinda' Altered Dimensions, come to think of it. Well, Dronny's next Cryo album was with Alphaxone, Beyond The Event Horizon. I'd like to believe there's some connective creative tissue there.

Sphäre Sechs - Beta Pictoris

Cryo Chamber: 2021

Silent Universe may be my go-to cosmic drone artist, but this project from Misters Stritzel and Stürtzer definitely intrigued me enough to scope out future releases, should they release more. A few more since Particle Void, their debut on Cryo Chamber, yes. Heck, I may even go back to their Malignant Records material – that Enceladus record looks intriguing, a glimmering pearl among all the sonic filth and industrial decay that makes up that label's existence. With such charming artists like Dissecting Table, Steel Hook Prostheses, Sewer Goddess, The Vomit Arsonist, Teeth Engraved With The Names Of The Dead, and Gnawed, how could one resist?

Sphäre Sechs felt different though. Yeah, they still indulged in the dark and the bleak, but there was a calming undercurrent beneath their drones too. Like, the stillness of a desolate realm easing one's chaotic thoughts into perfect serenity. Okay, so that serenity comes at the cost of the living, but hey, if you're experiencing serenity, then you're experiencing conscious thought, and therefore you must be alive, right? Ah, cosmology and existentialism, forever intertwined.

So while I'm all for hearing dark ambient relishing in extra-solar emptiness, I was hoping for something a little more, well, warm out of Beta Pictoris. For one thing, the cover art isn't so cold as most Cryo ambient can go, blazing orange and all. Granted, whatever space phenomenon is occuring in the background can't be healthy for one's DNA structure, but as any astrophysicist well tell you, the redder a cosmic body is, the 'cooler' it generally is – blue is the hotter, deadlier objects, yo'. Also, there's a space station in the foreground, perhaps a research facility studying whatever the phenomenon is. Or did it just appear out of nowhere, threatening its inhabitants? Whatever the case, it suggests some sort of story behind the scenery, and narrative-driven dark ambient is always more fascinating to indulge than strict sonic drone for its own sake.

And yeah, there's only a hinted such story here, but I'm running with it. The first few tracks, while not necessarily 'warm', certainly impart a sense of the grand, the sort of space ambient that lets you just sit in awe of all that lays beyond. Planetesimal Debris may sound forlorn in the destruction of what once was, yet there's grace and beauty in the floating bodies against a cosmic backdrop too. Things only grow tense by fourth track Collapsing Cloud, as though eminent danger looms, even if our feeble monkey brains have no comprehension as to why. In fact, follow-up Infrared Emission suggests we're positively enraptured by what we're witnessing. Should we not be staring to transfixed by the destructive elegance before us? Perhaps not, as concluding Exosolar and Unstable Orbit imply a not-so gentle end for our viewpoint characters.

Yeah, I liked Beta Pictoris a great deal. It continues Cryo Chambers dabblings in ambient that doesn't go so dark as often, but leaves enough room for the macabre twist ending.

ProtoU - Anomalies

Cryo Chamber: 2019

Her most popular album? Well, it's got the most scrobbles on Last.fm, which ain't too shabby seeing as how Anomalies came out much later than her earlier works like Lost Here and Khmaoch. Heck, even her collaboration with Purl, Sub Life, is dwarfed by how many plays Anomalies has garnered over a similar amount of time. You'd think getting exposure on Dronarivm would have yielded more plays there, but maybe I'm underestimating just how popular Cryo Chamber has gotten within not just dark ambient circles, but across other scenes as well. Or it just could be that literal eye-catching cover art luring folks in for a closer listen, unable to resist the hypnotizing glare of a burning sun over a concave valley. Truly one of the best from a label replete with captivating cover art.

And before any folks made of hay claim I'm just hopping on whatever bandwagon this album's gathered, I honestly always intended to grab it. However, as I postponed my latest Cryo Chamber bulk-buy for an unexpectedly long time, I missed the initial buzz over Anomalies. Or maybe not, those same scrobbling stats showing a healthy, consistent play cycle, at least among the Last.fm contingent. For a genre that has so many albums getting lost in the shuffle (just... so many albums), that's about as good as it gets.

And what has made Anomalies the runaway smash hit of ProtoU's discography (relatively speaking)? More of a focus on naturalist ambience, would be my guess. Not that Sasha hasn't dabbled in this field before, indeed this album treading similar ground as her debut Lost Here. However, she's taken many different paths in her dark ambient journey – sci-fi themes in Stardust and Echoes Of The Future; the occult with Khmoach, Metta, and Tomb Of Druids. Which is great if that's the dark ambient vibe you're down for at the time, but for most folks just getting their feet wet in the murky swamp, something that at least sounds grounded in our reality has some small comforting familiarity. Sure, you may be lost out in the woods with strange phenomena casting disconcerting visages across starless skies, but at least it's all natural, right? Right...?

Opener The Escape sure feels so, at least at first. Rather gentle and calming with soft, if chilly pads casting a mist over your earlobes, the drone does turn more mechanical and menacing, but not overbearingly so. And with such a tranquil piece of piano ambience in follow-up Transparent Clusters, such apprehensive thoughts are easily dismissed – the sound of rainfall certainly helps.

What's interesting about Anomalies is the back-and-forth of tone between tracks. Harsher pieces like Electric Grounds and Chamber Of Visions are followed by reflective respites in Lucid Sequences and Ghost In You , while ten-minute closer Pellucid Waters with Hilyard wraps everything back together. You'll come away feeling both confronted yet relaxed, challenged yet released. Like an intense Pilates workout, followed by a tender massage, for the mind and the soul.

Ruptured World - Xenoplanetary

Cryo Chamber: 2023

Just when you think you've heard it all when it comes to 'cinematic dark ambient', Cryo Chamber goes and throws yet another new angle into the mix. Or it's a style that's existed in some form or another, and this is just my first exposure to it. Come to think of it, even if not via dark ambient outlets, much of what I'm hearing on Ruptured World's Xenoplantary has existed in other mediums, but typically drawn out over the course of several hours, spaced between various forms of busy-work. I am, of course, talking about the spoken word genre known as the video game Datalog.

You scoff, but think about it: for as long as puzzle PC games have had the capability to provide audio clips of individuals gabbing on about daily activities or pet projects or failed experiments, we've heard some form of datalog. Sometimes they're implemented as clues to solving mysteries, other times they're sprinkled about as setting dressing. More commonly these days, they're used as narrative cheats in world building, where the quality of voice acting can range from transcendentally gripping to instructional video hilarity. Whatever your preference of such content, one thing is clear: there really isn't an after-market for datalog recordings.

Not that I imagine a huge demand for it, but you'd think with video game soundtracks so readily available, someone had an entrepreneurial flash in thinking all that voice work could earn a little extra scratch outside its gaming context. The closest we get, it seems, is just collected records of all the datalogs one discovers through the course of a play run, and typically only accessible in-game. I'm sure unofficial compilations float about YouTube and the like, but wouldn't it be neat to have all that material available on a nice set of wax? Or, even better: tapes! Really sell that authentic datalog feel, y'know? Okay, probably not, but that hasn't stopped Alistair Rennie from giving it the ol' college try with his Ruptured World project.

Whereas many artists may offer an introductory monologue or epilogue to a given work, Mr. Rennie makes his dialogue an integral part of his album narrative. I wouldn't go so far as to say they're full-on datalog outing, each recording interspersed with ambient music and cinematic drone. Yet nor are they audio books, as he'll garble the voice recordings with all manner of digital distortions, as though you're replaying them from some recovered, weathered archive of an explorer detailing their experiences – a datalog! What I'm sayin' is, ain't no way Scott Brick or Davina Porter would allow that in their works.

And what does Xenoplanetary offer within the Ruptured World milieu? A little survivor horror, a little sci-fi horror, a little body horror... typical dark ambient stuff. The music itself honestly isn't that terrifying, and sometimes Alistair's narration lends itself to wonderment rather than fear of his predicament. Of course, this being a Cryo Chamber outing, things can only end with an ironic existential crisis...

God Body Disconnect - The Wanderer's Dream

Cryo Chamber: 2021

I was fairly active giving Cryo Chamber annual shine, but apparently it's been twenty months since I last talked them up! It's not for a lack of material attracting my interest, oh no. They simply drifted for a while, putting yet another Bandcamp bulk buy on the back burner. And further... and further... Or maybe getting properly physically active made listening to dark ambient music an unnecessarily depressing distraction? Nah, couldn't be.

Just as well, then, that Simon Heath has expanded the variety of cinematic drones available on his label. Explorations in urban reflections, noir, sci-fi that isn't straight-up cosmic horror... even some regular ol' meditative ambient. Okay, it's often of a more melancholic bent, not really the best backing music when aligning one's chakras or whatever. Compared to the outright oppressive drone that marked Cryo Chamber's early releases, however, we may as well be talking about Dreamloop sessions.

One of the label's earlier breakout acts, God Body Disconnect, actually wormed a few such gentle pieces within his albums. Indeed, Mr. Moallem's debut album, Dredge Portals, worked so effectively because of that contrast. I can't say I kept tabs on his material much after that though. Yeah, I eagerly snatched the pseudo-sequel Sleeper's Fate, but couldn't help but feel Bruce might hit a creative dead-end in doing the 'spoken word' gimmick over and over. I honestly haven't indulged in all of his material since to find out, but wanted to dive back in somewhere. Hence, me checking out this two year old album, The Wanderer's Dream.

First off, just look at that cover! Nothing about it strikes you as dark ambient, does it. Sure, some of the grainy, weathered aesthetic may suggest a grainy, weathered sound within, but for the most part, you could hang this on your wall with some regular naturalist artwork and have few side-glances in the process. It's a shockingly bright, almost sunny piece, the coming light of a new dawn. But this is Cryo Chamber, mang'! Ain't no way the ambient dronescape within can be as pleasingly light.

Well, maybe not, but it certainly is peaceful. A relatively short album at forty-seven minutes total, The Wanderer's Dream basically captures those melancholic moods one may feel when out for a stroll in the early hours of the day, particularly after being up all night lost in anxious thoughts. It isn't necessarily depressive, finding it soothing for depressive thoughts, a steady, calming tone with comforting harmonies easing one out of self-induced stress. Not to say there aren't moments of apprehension either, they just aren't the norm, and often nicely counter-balanced shortly after.

Another all-time classic from God Body Disconnect, then? Eh, I can't say as such. While the ambient on hand is quite nice, and definitely a departure from the Cryo Chamber norm, it is a relatively common sort, as heard from many other sources. A worthy addition to the label's canon, for sure, but probably all-too easily overlooked from ambient connoisseurs abroad.

Sabled Sun - 2149

Cryo Chamber: 2021

After a four year flurry that saw annual releases from Sabled Sun (not to mention six side-releases), it seemed Simon Heath's future apocalypse concept had been put to pasture. From a narrative standpoint, it made some sense, going only so far as the view-point character could manage. Heck, I could argue that Sabled Sun only need the first album, 2145, so brilliantly telling its tale in one take. Carry on it did though, continuing the journey through a world in ruin.

With 2148, I pondered whether the tale's focus was changing, less about exploration and more about moving forward, and where the series' protagonist may go from there. Then the project went dark for half a decade, leaving such questions unanswered. For such a consistent series, that's a heck of a gap. What happened? Did other projects draw Simon's attention? A bout of 'writer's block' in where Sabled Sun could go next? A pang of associative guilt that 2148 came out the same day TFG was elected? Mysteries upon mysteries...

Straight up, I'm a tad disappointed that this new album isn't titled 2153. How cool would it have been of Simon to maintain the yearly passing of time with each Sabled Sun release mirroring our own? I suppose it's a bit of a moot point if you're listening to these for the first time in the here and now, or binge-listening in one sitting (as I did to re-familiarize myself with the setting). Ah well, probably too dorky a consideration for a sci-fi story set in a post-apocalypse brought about by humanity's hubris.

Speaking of humanity's hubris, 2149 takes us into an abandoned underground metropolis, left unscathed by the ravages of the surface world. Here, automation carries on, androids and machinery dutifully maintaining what remains, like lost children keeping the house clean while hoping for their parents to return. Actually, the music within isn't so explicit with these descriptions, but the nifty booklet the CD comes with sure is.

In fact, there isn't much sonic narrative in 2149 at all, the whole album running less than forty minutes total, the shortest Sabled Sun outing yet. Five years in the making? Ah, heh, I doubt it's like that, but it does lend some credence to the 'writer's block' theory. Besides, it's not like Simon's utterly strapped for ideas, as the booklet shows plenty of inspiration in the setting left. Sometimes you just gotta get what you can out though, even if it isn't as much as you'd like.

As for what we do have, there's less of the desolate, wandering field recordings, and more machinery, computers speak, and rhythmic pulses throughout – some of it could almost be techno! We're definitely in the bowels of a derelict civilization but it doesn't seem we're meant to dwell here long. What's this, a sensory port where one may uplink their consciousness to the still-running data-cloud inhabited by all the remaining automatons? Eh, I've had worse company.

Mount Shrine - Winter Restlessness

Cryo Chamber: 2018

Since taking the plunge into dark ambient's domain, I'm consistently fascinated by the varying entry points many of its artists have approached it by. For the longest time, I assumed it was mostly a gothy industrial off-shoot because, for the longest time, it was mostly a gothy industrial offshoot. I've since heard jazz, blues, metal, tribal, field recordings, and even opera music (of a sort) worm their way into the creepy kids' club.

One scene I never expected showing up to the doom 'n' gloom party is the vaporwave one, although I'm not sure why. Like, isn't v-wave all about making existing music all lo-fi and shit? Seems like a natural evolution to some extent, but all that guady, retro artwork vapor's known for doesn't really jive with dark ambient's aesthetic, so you understand being surprised by any connection. Figures Cryo Chamber would find an artist bridging that gap though.

Cesar Alexandre mostly made his name in vaporwave with projects like Lindsheaven Virtual Plaza and Slow Midnight, though had his hand in many other online experimental scenes as well. This led to some ambient releases, including Mount Shrine, which caught the attention of Cryo Chamber, giving Cesar some of his greatest exposure yet, this here Winter Restlessness his debut on the label.

I knew none of this going in, of course, just intrigued by the cover art of a lonesome ruin nestled within an alpine clime'. Figuring I might be in for something on a Ugasanie tip, you can imagine my surprise when I got none of that. Instead, the titular opener brings us a softly crackling fire, impossibly distant radio chatter, and minimalist sombre pads. It's almost something right out of Biosphere's Substrata, though Geir's music paints a remote vista, whereas Mount Shrine seems to impart feelings of remoteness and isolation.

Which makes sense for an album about residing in desolate regions, but as Winter Restlessness carries on, I sense the sonic locale is a little more grounded, almost urban. The hum of traffic far below apartment towers, the synthetic hum of power lines outside your window, the relentless patter of rain on glass patios, all the while sombre pads carry on, always maintaining that sense of isolation, even if civilization exists just beyond your dwelling's walls. It's unlike most dark ambient I've come across, more akin to the sort of droning interludes you might hear on a Burial-clone album. Music for introspection and reflection rather than challenging your sense of being. Future Mount Shrine albums would have titles like Underpass, Outsider Station, and Across Rooftops, further supporting this urban vibe. Then I learned Cesar hailed from Rio De Janeiro, and his approach to dark ambient made perfect sense.

Sadly, I've also learned that Cesar passed away this year, another victim in the ongoing COVID pandemic. Due to its massive population and extreme class disparity (not to mention a retrograde political leader), Brazil has been one of the worst hit countries in the world. Odds were not in Mount Shrine's favour.

Alphaxone - Edge Of Solitude

Cryo Chamber: 2018

Speaking of Cryo Chamber artists I've a lot of catching up to do, here's Alphaxone! Again, I was able to keep pace with his rate of output, all the way to this particular album, plus that collaborative outing with Xerxes The Dark (Aftermath). Since then, however, Mehdi's released two more solo records, plus another collaboration with Mount Shrine. And, that's not all, another collab' with ProtoU due out even as I type these words! I swear by Azathoth's mandible, I did not plan to be covering these two artists back-to-back right as Back To Beyond was ready to drop. I almost feel obligated to cover it now. I mean, sure I'm likely to pick it up eventually, but should I forgo my strict, orderly queue to capitalize upon a flash chance of circumstance? That's how it starts though. Cheat just once, and chaos is the only outcome.

I've mentioned in the past that Alphaxone's general musical trajectory was slowly but surely in ascent from our earthly realms (after having arrived from altered dimensions). Edge Of Solitude completes the journey, taking us as far into the foreboding cosmos as he's ever taken us. Ooh, this ought to be some mint space drone, I wager, perhaps on par with fellow Cryo Chamber alum Silent Universe (aka: Ugasanie). Let's throw this bad boy on and get swept away in existential dread.

Things start out with Environment, a rather lush bit of layered ambience that wouldn't sound out of place on a Silent Season record, even containing the faint sounds of birds chirping as it fades out. Wait, what? Oh, I get it, Mehdi often starts his albums out with something more calm, luring you into a sense of security. I'm sure the next track, Road To Nowhere, will get us deep in the cosmic drone. Ah, hm, no, it doesn't. This is rather calm and soothing as well. Maybe a touch of the mysterious and slightly melancholic, but nothing ominous about this piece either. Solar Halos does have an oppressive drone going for it, but switches gears midway featuring a building bell melody. What's this, actual songcraft in my dark ambient?

I know it's only the opening three tracks, but Edge Of Solitude has to be one of the most un-dark ambient albums I've heard out of Cryo Chamber. Sure, you'd find the occasional piece that may feature a little melody, whether a piano or guitar or strings or trumpet, but nothing quite so 'uplifting' as these bells in Solar Halos.

Alphaxone does come correct with the darker stuff in the middle of this album, though even here there are traces of serenity. Echosphere almost goes full Tomita with its synths, while the desolation of Lost Horizon brings back the tranquil field recordings of some outdoor park. And when the final two tracks get back on that traditional ambient vibe, I can't help but feel remarkably relaxed, a mood I never thought I say about a Cryo Chamber release. Anymore like this?

ProtoU - Echoes Of The Future

Cryo Chamber: 2018

I've fallen way behind on this label. You may think two years isn't much of a gap, but Cryo Chamber remains relentless in its rate of output, over fifty albums Simon Heath's print has produced since I last splurged. It ain't for a lack of interest. Even glancing at their recent releases, there's a pile of items immediately catching my eye. Some things gotta' take a backseat though, and it'd be silly of me to snatch up a pile of new albums when I'm still sifting through the ones I picked up last time. Okay, maybe that new Sabled Sun CD, at the very least.

Even ProtoU, I feel like I've slipped on. She was among a handful of artists I'd kept pace with when she first debuted with Dronny Darko on Earth Songs. The streak was broken in my missing The Edge Of Architecture, and though I got her next two albums, she's released two more since. I think the only Cryo Chamber project I have gathered all releases of is Sabled Sun, which seems appropriate, given it was that project that lured me in the first place.

Sasha's hinted at an interest in leaving our earthly realms in her Stardust collaboration with Alphaxone, but Echoes Of The Future is a full-blown cosmic outing. Okay, not quite, more of a launching, as the remnants of whatever civilization remains on our planet hopefully seeks a better life than what they leave behind. Not that the 'music' within is explicit about it – not even the track titles are clear in their narrative. Nay, I had to scope out the Bandcamp PR blurb for the the album's concept. Even if some of these pieces are interesting in their own right, it helps having full thematic context when hearing atonal drone.

The first couple tracks are fairly typical of dark drone, though Interlinked fades out with the sounds of radio chatter, like receiving transmissions from abroad. 4325d shifts gears (heh) into the mechanical, as though you're wandering launch pads devoid of humans, yet filled with giant sentinels waiting to be sent to the stars, steam and fog gently floating from their frames. There's a sense of subtle awe in your surroundings, but sadness too.

Mid-track Drawings Of Nebula marks a sharp turn in choice of soundscape, a heavy synth drone almost pushing down on your ears. It carries on like this for a while, though once again, voices from beyond are heard as the track fades out. The next two tracks mostly get back to the dark dronescapes with some field recordings flourishes, though I can't help but zone out while they're playing. Vessels Of God, on the other hand, brings in a mournful melody that wouldn't sound too out of place in a 36 ambient piece. True, there's a fair amount of static and astro-chatter distortion, especially towards the end when the melody is practically subsumed by it. Still, a surprisingly hopeful ending to a generally bleak album.

Eximia - Visitors

Cryo Chamber: 2018

Dark ambient covers quite a few topics within its bleak oeuvre, but alien invasion isn't very common. While I'm sure there are examples floating about, I've seldom stumbled upon them. This genre would rather crush your sense of being with dronescapes of a universe utterly devoid of life, an empty realm where conscious beings are more a fluke of incidental chemical reactions than part of a grand design. Where man may scream into the void all he wants, but there's no one to hear him, no one to respond back. Having aliens in your dark ambient, even hostile ones, defeats that concept.

Still, Cryo Chamber has never let a concept go untapped, and they found a worthy contender to explore an alien invasion album in Eximia. Lord Discogs doesn't list much of anything from the project, this here Visitors essentially a debut for Dominik Ragancík. The Slovakian has been busy elsewhere though, something of a sound designer and engineer for many other forms of media. Last-dot-FM lists previous credits such as car commercials and video games, including the Mass Effect series. Hmm, isn't that the one where an ancient Eldritch horror of a robotic space-faring race called The Reapers goes around exterminating all biological life, a purging of all organics from the cosmos? Sounds right up dark ambient's alley, that one.

So what kind of music is a sound designer inclined to make? None what so ever! There's barely a hint of any melody or even atonal drone throughout this album. Not until near the end of final track World Without End do we hear any sort of instrumentation, and it's discordant strings at that, not exactly the most cheerful of sounds.

Nay, Eximia has taken Cryo Chamber's 'cinematic drone' manifesto to its most extreme end, the bulk of Visitors consisting of sound effects and field recordings. There's little room for interpretation here, though plenty to tickle the imagination should you sit back with your eyes closed. Like, the opening track, Day One. Wide open spaces, shuffling feet in empty buildings, an eerie wind on the distant horizon, when a low, feral growl echoes upon the air, thunder crackling across the sky... Then, an ominous thrum pierces the atmosphere, a sound so strange, so foreign, so alien, it sets off all your primitive warning signals. Descending from on high, unknown and foreboding. What images play out in your mind as this unfolds will likely depend on what sci-fi you've consumed over the years.

So First Contact cranks the creep-out factor before seemingly going tits-up - guess Amy Adams didn't have much luck in this scenario. Abyss goes even further into the murk, sounding like you're stuck in some specimen vat while hearing horrors carry on from beyond. And if mankind's fate wasn't already clear, Extinction features the ghostly wails of a species in its last throes, muted sirens marking the end of everything. Well, it was a good run, while it lasted. So, which of you tripods has the tea?

Dead Melodies - Primal Destination

Cryo Chamber: 2019

It's funny how circumstance can affect one's engagement with the music they consume. For sure we want suitable soundtracks to the events of our lives: rockin', high energy stuff for heading out on the town; chill, unobtrusive sounds for downtimes; smooth grooves for sexy shenanigans. When some feel glum and gloom, there's nothing like a little dark ambient to placate the mood. And four years ago, I was feelin' that dark ambient vibe indeed. Yeah, I'd been intrigued by the genre for a couple years prior, but after that happened... hoo boy. Possibly some of my most inspired prose was written during that period, regarding this particular style of music.

Yet things kinda' seem just a bit... better now? Not as good as they could or should be, oh no. Just... better. Makes me wonder whether dark ambient all-oppressive mood will be as relatable anymore, or will return to the 'conceptual escapism' status I previous held it as.

I haven't kept much tab on Dead Melodies since I last reviewed the project, but Tom Moore does remain active, especially in the year 2020. He's even gone a little noir with Zenjungle in Anthropocene, which I may pick up down the line, but for now, we're in high-concept territory in this album, Primal Destination.

In fact, we're getting in on a little sci-fi action here, if the miniscule spaceman in the cover art wasn't enough of an indication. I suppose the astrophysics patterns and and ancient stargate is a handy clue too. Or is this an inter-dimensional portal? This cover has me thinking space, but many of the track titles don't really suggest as such: Superdrone Descent, Pearlescent Dawn, Subterraformed, Glades. Gosh, now that I look at the figure on the cover harder, I wonder if that's even a spacesuit. Looks more like radiation garb, the sort of thing one might wear when traversing volcanic regions. No, don't go in there! Who knows what horrors you'll find! Dammit, why don't they listen when I'm screaming at them from my meatspace?

Primal Destination starts out relatively calm and tranquil in that cinematic drone sort of way, the first couple tracks lulling you into a sense of serenity. Third piece Pearlescent Dawn comes off more ominous though, as though your environment is growing more askew the further you travel. And while Glades may initially conjure images dewy, rolling hills of grass, there's nothing peaceful about Mr. Moore's use of field recordings here, the sort of sounds that will have you jumping at shadows from the periphery of your sight (damn you, Xtro!).

From there, it's the steady descent into, well, primal thoughts and instincts, your reptile brain getting all itchy and twitchy from the sounds Dead Melodies utilizes. Save some orchestral manipulations in Fields Of Sleep, it's not until final track The Wake Of Man does something resembling calm and rationality enter back into the discourse. Ah, the steadying breath of the wise man's brain in action.

Sphäre Sechs - Particle Void

Cryo Chamber: 2018

Seems I'm once again on a little space theme run with the current clutch of reviews, which wouldn't be complete without the good ol' dark ambient contingent cropping up for their say. You can't talk space music without bringing up the potential bleakness of it all. Yeah, it's nice to be awestruck by nebulae beauty and mesmerized by astrophysics ballet, but there's a whole lot of nothing out there too. Empty, soul-crushing desolation, wondrous worlds impossibly far and distant, such that there's no hope of ever seeing them up close and personal. Never mind even attempting to get there would involve navigating among molecule-shredding radiation and Cthulhu knows what in the form of exotica erupting from mega death black holes. No hope, no hope at all.

Sphäre Sechs is the work of two chaps, Martin Stürtzer and Christian Stritzel (sounds like a German comedy duo). Martin has been quite active in dark ambient circles for a decade and a half now, primarily releasing material under the alias of Phelios. Much of it is of the droning sort, with occasional modern classical flourishes here and there, of various themes and ideas explored. More recently he's been releasing material under his own name under his own Echo Elberfeld label. Ooh, I spy something called The Omarion Nebula (only DS9 dorks will get that).

Mr. Stritzel has far less Discoggian presence, only appearing in collaboration with Mr. Stürtzer, a modified Theremin his primary 'instrument' in the group. The duo goes as far back as 2007's Klang Ist Ewig, but half a decade later, they adopted the Sphäre Sechs project handle, releasing Tiefschlaf on Malignant Records. Fast forward a little later, and they've brought their cosmic soundscapes to Cryo Chamber, debuting on the label with this here Particle Void. Tale as old as time.

As an album, Particle Void is straight-forward enough. Eight tracks, most hovering in the five-to-six minute range, offering varying tones of drone while holding a general mood of cosmic emptiness. While a low thrum is maintained throughout each piece, droning sounds and pads ebb and flow as though in a trance-inducing meditative breath. Sometimes there's a sense of awe in the surroundings, as in Multiverse and Transference. Other times abject fear, as though bearing witness to it all is simply too much for the human brain to handle (Temporal Transition, Achernar). And gosh, is that a touch of the melancholy I hear in Cepheid? Sadness at forever being trapped in our corporeal forms, unable to traverse into theoretical inter-dimensional portals without our atoms getting speghettified across the cosmos? Or maybe that's what's going on in final track Radiation Phase, a slowly building drone piece that includes the subtlest of rhythmic pulses.

By the way, where's the Theremin? I don't hear anything on this album that reminds me of pulpy sci-fi of the '50s. Is Christian's manipulations of the quirky electronic instrument so extreme that it sound alien to that which we know? Seems about right for an album like this.

Ugasanie - Ice Breath Of Antarctica

Cryo Chamber: 2018

I won't deny having some favouritism towards icy-cool looking cover art, but it's generally spread out among my other albums so it doesn't become a running theme. This is the third album out of the last four to go wintry though, enough that I'm sure some folks are wondering if something more than biased interest is going on. Heck, it could have been the fourth, but I held off on grabbing Ensiferum's From Afar – have enough Viking metal for now, thanks.

It wouldn't be so bad if we were going through a typical summer, with the heat and the drought and the forest fires and all. Some parts of North America are getting that as usual, yeah, but not in my neck of the rain forests. It's been comically dark and grey these past couple months, some of the wettest on record, with humidity you can practically swim in. Not that I want a return to the years of beige lawns and a constant layer of acrid haze in the air, but nor this far extreme the other way. Just enough that listening to a whole pile of CDs with frozen landscapes as the cover art is a soothing escape, not a reminder of miserable weather.

Actually, even in those ideal conditions, I'd hardly call Ice Breath Of Antarctica a 'soothing escape'. In traditional Ugasanie manner, we're taken to a realm of utter desolation, where no sane human being should wish to tread. In theory at least, but the south polar region has its share of tourists eagre to see penguins and southern elephant seals and... um, other fauna local to the ice caps while they last. Only during the summer months though. And preferably when there's ideal weather. While in the company of others, so as not to get lost roaming about. Pretty much the exact opposite of the conditions Ugasanie presents to us in this album, is what I'm getting at.

While Pavel has been Cryo Chamber's go-to guy for all things frozen over, his albums still typically have specific themes in mind. Explorations of abandoned Siberian science stations, the mental state of being overcome by the northern lights, and so on. No such 'journey' happens in Ice Breath Of Antarctica, unless you count being consumed in the absolute worst conditions you could possibly endure while venturing there. Second track Shores Of Antarctica is basically five minutes of bellowing winds whipping your face with freezing sleet before settling into the sort of empty, minimalist drone that's long been this label's breaded butter. You are alone in desolation, absolutely alone. Not even a stray penguin in sight.

The whole album basically plays out like that, unrelenting in consuming you within the polar continent's harsh climate. Some tracks feature sounds of being emersed within slow-moving ice, others offer a brief respite with quiet, reflective harmonies carried along the wind. Almost as if Ugasanie is asking, “well, what did you expect of the lands even The Thing couldn't survive in?”

Atrium Carceri - Codex

Cryo Chamber: 2018

It's been a while since we returned to the on-going story Simon Heath is telling with his Atrium Carceri project. Maybe not as long as the Sabled Sun side-project, but that one did have a sense of finality to it with 2148. Heck, I'd argue it could have ended perfectly with the debut 2145, but that's neither here nor there. What's fascinating about A.C., however, is the fact Codex marks only the third mainline album under that banner since Mr. Heath set up Cryo Chamber. Plenty of collaborative works and joint concept works, absolutely, but to this point, only The Untold, Metropolis, and Codex have been solo works on the label. Does this mean the collaborative ones tie into the mainline narrative at all? Miles To Midnight sure doesn't seem to.

Thus these solo Atrium Carceri works are treated with a fair bit of awe and anticipation, exciting new chapters in whatever ongoing narrative there actually is between the three albums. Simon spared no expense in celebrating the third in the current-trilogy (two years later, still no fourth album), giving Codex the same lavish hardcover casing and picturesque booklet as some of those Cryo Chamber Collaboration releases. It's only appropriate to go whole hog on the package considering this is the label's one-hundredth release.

And we pick up right where we left off in The Void, that vintage all-encompassing cinematic dark ambient stylee Atrium Carceri built an empire upon. The mood is sombre, the atmosphere suffocating, the organs dominating, and your headspace transported to whatever bleak, uncompromising fallen society Mr. Heath has envisioned for us. A couple examples of choking drone follow, then Codex takes a surprising turn for the ...calm and blissful? Wait, what?

True, we've heard sombre piano pieces from Simon before, typically as contrast to whatever menace lurks in the surrounding tracks, but A Memory Lost remains shockingly lovely considering the lead-up. It's followed upon by The Empty Chapel however, with choir and ethereal pads that is almost angelic in presentation. Fits the theme of the track, I suppose, but can't say I've ever heard anything quite so pure ambient as this from this label (I've missed a fair bit in recent years, mind).

We go back to the foreboding cinematic drone after this, Mr. Heath taking us on another journey through old world domains, but its not so harrowing as works past. It's as though he wants us to be more in awe and worshipful of what we imagine than come away intimidated. But before you know it, Codex is wrapping up, another little piano piece in A Hunger Too Deep followed upon by a suitable denouement to the journey in The Citadel.

Gosh, that was rather a brisk listening experience. Felt like things were still warming up before coming to an end. Considering the anticipation, roll-out, and subsequent elapsed time since, I can't help but feel a tad let down by Codex's relative briefness. This dark ambient hunger don't sate itself.

ProtoU & Hilyard - Alpine Respire

Cryo Chamber: 2017

Uh oh, another Cryo Chamber album already? Does this mean that CD bundle I bought is gonna' be stupidly front-loaded in the next round of reviews? Heh, no, 'tis but a coincidence of alphabetical sorting. It shall be a long while before I return to this label, but hey, feels like I'm making up for lost time, having gone so many months without an obligatory look-in to what was shaking with Simon Heath's print.

Of all the items I grabbed in my recent splurge, this may be the oldest of the lot. In fact, Alpine Respire could have been included in my prior Cryo bundle, but that ten CD limit had to cap out somewhere. Albums from God Body Disconnect and Flowers For Bodysnatchers were of higher priority to me at the time, but when I came back to the Chamber for more dronescapes, this was gonna' be top of the pile, by g'ar. Can never get enough of those ashen vistas of cascade mountains at dusk. With molten lava rivers seeping out their sides like open, bloody wounds. Look, we have real volcanoes 'round these here parts, it's not impossible!

Sasha Cats (ProtoU) hasn't been too busy since we last glanced at her output here, a couple albums worth of material materializing in that time. She also officially paired up with partner Dronny Darko as Hivetribe, whom released a collaborative album with Purl (yes, that Purl), and ...two psy-trance albums? No, that's gotta' be a different Hivetribe. Crazy coincidence in the timing of releases though. As for the other half of this album's particular pairing, Bryan Hilyard is another relative dronescape scene floater, self-releasing some items while finding a home on Stereoscenic for others. As being on a label with that sort of name, his is the widescreen variety of dense ambient drone, with occasional field recordings treatments, and not so dark as the Cryo Chamber brand goes. Yet he not only found his way there in this pairing with ProtoU, but even released a solo album on the print this past year too. Ooh, that one's got galaxies on the cover. Will likely nab that, whenever I go on another Cryo splurge.

Alpine Respire is about as typical of the Chamber's output as you'd expect given the cover art. There's a loose theme built around traversing an inhospitable clime', taking in the field recordings scenery as moody tones blanket you in chilly atmosphere. There's the requisite suffocating gloom of tracks like Blood Grass Soujourn and Elwha Snowfinger, but other pieces (Cave Lights On The Bay Of Bengal, Final Refugium) provide something of a tranquil respite from the harsh elements beating down on you. Seems no matter how menacing or melancholic the music, throwing in the sounds of crashing surf never fails to bring about as sense of ease. Man, no wonder so little dark ambient sets itself along beach fronts. You'd think shores with tall cliffs and jagged rocks could harbour some sort of sonic malice.

Alphaxone & Xerxes The Dark - Aftermath

Cryo Chamber: 2018

Been a while since I last indulged in the Cryo Chamber catalogue, what with me exploring other dark ambient labels for a spell. Back to the familiar, trusty ol' print of cinematic drone I must go though (yo'), with another CD bundle splurge I can never resist (can't have enough 'cryo chamber' beer can sleeves!). Still a lot of familiar names making the rounds here, but quite few new faces too. Mount Shrine, Ruptured World, Dahlia's Tear, Ager Sonus, In Quantum. Y'know, cheerful aliases! I've also noticed Cryo Chamber's cover art has grown a bit more... colourful? Okay, maybe that's too strong a word, everything still retaining that distinct, muted saturation. Still, I see whites and reds and blues and various scales of grey too. Why, In Quantum's Memory 417 could almost be synthwave cover! A very dark, depressing collection of synthwave, but that seven-segment display for the album's font screams '80s (thanks, The Police's Ghost In The Machine).

There's nothing like settling on the familiar though, and what better way to get reacquainted than with an old standby of Cryo Chamber, Alphaxone. When last I covered him, Mr. Saleh had been pairing up with the dark ambient power couple of Dronny Darko and ProtoU for a pair of albums that were conceptually quite different from each other. Naturally, I gravitated more towards the spacier of the two offerings, and so it goes again in his latest collaboration, this time with fellow Iranian Xerxes The Dark. That... doesn't strike me as the most creative of aliases Morego Dimmer could have come up with. Like, why not Xerxes The تاریک? In any event, he's floated about various dark ambient labels since the mid-'00s, but the gravitational pull of Cryo Chamber drew him within their fold for a collaborative album or three, first appearing on one of the Tomb Of... compilations.

I've taken in plenty of cosmic drone, but very little cosmic horror. The existential dread of utter nothingness is enough to send cold shivers down my neck, no need of madness-inducing unrealities mixing in. Still, Alphaxone's very good at crafting captivating soundscapes fitting of altered dimensions, so I'm in safe(?) hands with him leading the way into this domain. I'm not so sure about Xerxes though, unfamiliar with his brand of drone as I am. Can I pick out distinct attributes in Aftermath from Alphaxone's aesthetic?

Can't say I did. This still feels like an Alphaxone album, though perhaps more structured in narrative than some of his other works. As with the best of Cryo Chamber, each track serves as another chapter in whatever tale the artists look to tell, in this case, exploration of the interplanetary unknown, and what wonders or horrors may come from there. There are points where an almost benign tone settles in (ooh, shimmery piano to close out!), but yeah, this is a very minimalist excursion into cinematic dronescapes. Not that I'd want to hear inhuman field recordings in something like Aftermath.

Flowers For Bodysnatchers - Asylum Beyond

Cryo Chambers: 2017

I had a couple angle ideas going into this album from Flowers For Bodysnatchers. A brief recap on the project from where we'd left off. Something about the history of messed-up asylum stories. A quip about how it's been so long since I last wrote anything about Cryo Chamber. As I sat down to commit fingers to keyboard though, I got an email notice informing me that Duncan Ritchie is set to release a brand new Flowers For Bodysnatchers album in a week or two. Well that's cool, thinks I, Alive With Scars perhaps providing me with some additional tidbits of info I can use for this review.

I scope out the Bandcamp link, intrigued by the picture of an upright human nervous system seemingly wandering an abandoned Victorian garden. Definitely something I've never seen before, making me wonder what the concept behind the album is. Multiple Sclerosis is the concept, the PR blurb informs, a wasting away of one's body by its own immune system. A condition Duncan has lived with for the past decade. Oh. Oh my!

Suddenly making an album about 'the Suicide Forest' takes on a whole other light. Not that this has much to do with Asylum Beyond, but it's difficult shaking all that from my head. Must move on for now though, lest I use up any talking points for whenever I do get around to discussing Alive With Scars proper-like.

Asylum Beyond has plenty 'nuff material to dig into, a 'ripped from the headlines' tale of antique shop keepers, occult rituals, lunatic hospitals, and mass murders. Fairly traditional horror fiction topics, all told, but something of a departure for Mr. Ritchie, who's albums tend to deal with mood music and psychological depression. With its ample field recordings and sparse ambience, Asylum Beyond comes off one part film soundtrack, and one part radio drama, though lacking much dialog beyond your requisite Latin chanting; can't deal with the occult without that Latin chant.

And thus I've come to yet another dark ambient album conundrum, wherein talking about it seems a futile effort. Sure, I could detail all the creepy things that go on, like heavy, echoing footsteps in abandoned warehouses in Midnight My Dearest Midnight, or discordant string swells in Ravenfield (the asylum's name), or the cheeky sample of an old-timey symphony recording at the end Phantasma, but my detailing lacks context without hearing it as part of the album's narrative whole. Asylum Beyond is bookended by creepy piano pieces, but without taking the journey of deepening madness from beginning to end, they lack the poignancy Duncan's tale offers.

Dark ambient isn't generally the most musically inclined of genres out there, usually settling for mood and atmospherics. Strangely, it's even rarer to hear an album that's this detailed in its storytelling. Simon Heath definitely indulges it with his Atrium Carceri and Sabled Sun projects, and I'm sure there's others, but it's a treat to hear another take the challenge on just the same.