Ugasanie - Eye Of Tunguska

Cryo Chamber: 2015

Is there any landmass more inhospitable and devoid of humanity than the Siberian plateau? Right, Antarctica, but the polar continent has an allure, a challenge for the human spirit; a realm where you can see unique fauna and frozen wastes unlike anywhere else on the planet. What does Siberia have? Dense woods, peat bogs, brutal winters, and more bugs than all the grains of sand in the world, the region a nearly impenetrable fortress of human misery. A perfect place for sending your criminals and prisoners, but horrible for the tourist industry.

There’s one area, however, that’s captured the imagination of astronomers, speculators, theorists, and artists, known for an event that was as catastrophic as it was mysterious. All the early expeditions were able to find at ground zero were thousands upon thousands of blasted, dead trees, some still standing but charred to a cinder. With no signs of a crater, science guessed it was caused by an exploding chunk of space rock or ice, one that detonated before it even impacted upon the ground. But surely something that explosive would have left an impact mark, the world thought. Given that the Tunguska region was remote even by Siberian standards though, very few expeditions followed-up on the event.

As such, the Tunguska Event entered contemporary speculative fiction lore, a sci-fi trope probably only outrivaled by Roswell. Many an author, comic, TV show, and video game dealing with aliens references it, a tantalizing region to hang a conspiracy theory on. What better, isolated area for governments and E.T.s to convene than this, plotting world control and humanity misery? Right, Antarctica again.

Some musicians have also namedropped Tunguska, including Tomita, Alan Parsons, Cymbals Eat Guitars, and a few metal bands too. This here Ugasanie, whose brand of dark ambient typically focuses on the furthest regions of European hinterlands, would naturally have his say in Siberian folklore. Rather than rehashing the same ol’ event though, Eye Of Tunguska instead recounts a smaller, intimate occurrence, involving a group of hiking students eager to see the epicenter. Losing their way as you do in the middle of literal nowhere, they were never heard from again, their bodies eventually recovered at a nearby abandoned geological station, mutilated and covered with radiation burns. Wait, is this fiction, or did this really happen? If so, day-um…

The album’s essentially a dark ambient score to the story, each track another chapter (The Taiga, Lonely Winter Hut, The Phenomenon, Last Night, Attempt To Contact, The Bodies Under The Snow, and so on). Sounds mostly consist of eerie tones, desolate drone, and sparse field recordings, all with a sci-fi undercurrent of nervous curiosity and tense exploration. Even with a concrete plot as a backbone, Ugasanie leaves his tracks plenty open to interpretation in what’s unfolding, making Eye Of Tunguska the sort of CD that demands one’s full attention for the best results. If you’re willing to take this trip to Tunguska, anyway. Antarctica don’t look so bad now.

Dronny Darko & protoU - Earth Songs

Cryo Chamber: 2015

I find dark ambient’s at its best when it provides a narrative, a musical sequence of mood, atmosphere and tone akin to an audio novel or documentary. Okay, so I think all music is best served as such, but this genre seems tailor-made for it. Catchy earworms? Shuffle-tastic beats? Sing-along lyrics? Get out of here with such foolish diversions, we’ve a tale to tell, and have no need of dance numbers and staged musical distractions. Not when there’s outworld realms to explore, frigid tundra to trek, sojourns of the psyche to survey, occult rituals to observe, and ruined societies to unearth. Or, in the case of this collaboration between Dronny Darko and protoU, telling nothing less than the entire history of the universe! Talk of ambition.

I’m not even kidding. Earth Songs contains seven tracks, each demarcated by an approximate date of setting within this narrative. The opener is Explosion (13.8 billion years ago), because if your scope is all of Earth’s existence, you may as well start at the beginning of everything. No planet, no congealed mass of space rocks and dust orbiting a hot, young star, not even a molecular cloud or stellar nursery drifting in a galaxy. We’re at a time when the very elements of the cosmos were still being crafted, the building blocks of all that we see and interact with finding its form. The music, such as it is, sounds rather like the droning ambience of a science show describing such a scene, or the weird landforms that Dave Bowman flew over after the trippy light show was done.

Since nothing much else happens in the development of Earth for a very, very long time, track two time-jumps some ten-billion years to Life Beneath The Surface (3.8 billion years ago). Not only do we now have a planet, but stirrings of cognizant chemical reactions too! In something of a departure from Cryo Chamber’s typical bleak drone, this track is rather calm and soothing, ambient in its more traditional sense. It paints a promising, humble beginning for these songs of Earth, of unlimited potential. What’s with those sounds of footsteps though? Is some future explorer actually present? Aliens? Also, I’m not sure how scientifically accurate Darko and ‘U are being, considering next track, Riparian Forest (300 million years ago), has samples of song birds. I’m almost certain such animals didn’t exist that far back.

Desolate, ash-strewn Extinction (66 million years ago) is self-explanatory, almost a requisite track in this sort of album. Shortly after (astronomically speaking), we have Primate (50 million years ago), a bit more melodic and hopeful in tone, though definitely with an ominous edge to it. Something must have happened along the way, for we have Singularity (2045 AD) next, followed upon by Leaving Earth (2135 AD), as bleak of sci-fi drone as you’ll likely hear that’s not on a Sabled Sun album. Wait…, 2135… 2145… Oh my God, Earth Songs just might be a Sabled Sun prequel! (probably not)

Council Of Nine - Diagnosis

Cryo Chamber: 2015

So this Council Of Nine fellah, Mr. Maximillian Olivier, what’s his story? I spent a good chunk of the last review of his material going on about Greek stuff, and almost none detailing his backstory. While I couldn’t pass on the opportunity to get my mythology wank on, there’s a practical reason too: Council Of Nine is about as much a mystery as the governing body behind the contemporary Council Of Nine.

Unlike others of Cryo Chamber’s roster, Max’ got his start in-house, first contributing to the 2014 artist showcase Tomb Of Empires. Shortly after in 2015, he released Dakhma, and later the same year, provides us with Diagnosis. Lord Discogs lists no further entries, not even self-released material in the elsewheres of the Internet. Even his Facebook page seems more intent on reposting Cryo Chamber promotions than anything favoring himself. Makes sense if he’s got close ties with Simon Heath’s print, which I suspect he does given Mr. Olivier comes from the valley of the Redwoods near Cryo headquarters. Cannot deny though, because of this sparse info, I briefly thought this was Simon Heath under another pseudonym. But no, that wouldn’t make sense - I’m sure followers of Atrium Carceri are highly attuned to any and all developments with their dark ambient lord and savior, and would have made the connection swift-like. Council Of Nine is his own dark beast, doing his own dark things within the dark drone folds.

And making quite a departure with Diagnosis from Dakhma. Whereas the latter focused on a setting and the surrounding atmosphere, this album is all on that introspective gaze, insular and reflective as one is wont to be when alone with their thoughts. Track titles like Memories Are Fading, Sedation, Void Of Regret, and Riddled With Guilt certainly paint a bleak journey within the psyche, but then what would you expect from a dark ambient release? And honestly, Diagnosis is one of the more melodic albums I’ve heard from the Cryo Chamber camps, melancholic as needed without succumbing to pure depression and despair. There are even brief moments of uplifting tone in opener Rite Of Passage, maybe hinting at some hope in the journey of judging thyself we’re about to embark upon. Hah, not bloody likely.

I wouldn’t go so far as to say Diagnosis offers no reprieve or remorse for the listener, but Council Of Nine lays the drone almost as thick as the crushing tones of Dakhma. Instead of feeling claustrophobic within a macabre ritual though, you’re surrounded by all the doubts and misgivings of your past, unable to escape the crippling regrets that have led you to that not-so comfy couch in the shrink’s office. At least, I figure that’s the intent of Diagnosis. After a promising start, the album kinda’ mushes into an unending bleak drone in the back half. Cool if that’s Council Of Nine’s intent, but I was hoping for a little more journey in this one. Mind Over MIDI spoiled me, is what.

Council Of Nine - Dakhma

Cryo Chamber: 2015

Council Of Nine has existed since the days of Greek Mythology, Olympian Gods who sought to punish Mankind after Prometheus had the audacity to give us Fire. These deities – Zeus, Poseidon, Hera, Hephaestus, Aphrodite (the cute one!), Apollo, Athena, Hermes, and Demeter (the serious one) – created the first woman, Pandora, and sent her as a gift to Prometheus’s dopey brother, Epimetheus. The Council Of Nine also sent with her a Box, with instruction it was never to be opened. They figured dumb ol’ Epi’ would accidentally knock it off a table or something, thus the Council Of Nine could unleash all the ills of Mankind upon the world, and blame it on the Titans! Little did they know their own creation would open the Box instead, Pandora’s curiosity getting the better of her, throwing a wrench into their blame game. Women, am I right, Zeus?

'kay, I’ve no citation that this is the ‘Council Of Nine’ Maximillion Olivier chose as an alias. Heck, it could be based off the South Park parody of the Council Of Nine, which included such luminaries as Aslan The Lion, Luke Skywalker, Gandalf, Jesus (the cute one!), Wonder Woman, Glinda The Good Witch, Popeye, Zeus, and Morpheus (the serious one). Seeing as how this is a dark ambient release though, I’m leaning more towards the governing body of the Church Of Satan as a source of inspiration than a relatively obscure part of Greek lore. I had to share some of these Wiki discoveries.

Mr. Olivier makes the sort of dark ambient most associate with the genre: creepy, foreboding, bleak stuff drawing upon images of black rituals and the occult. Can’t say it’s a sound I particularly gravitate towards – when I indulge in dark ambient, it’s mostly of the cosmic, isolated sort that leaves one alone with their thoughts. Mind bending abstract stuff’s kinda’ cool too. If I’m gonna’ splurge on Cryo Chambers’ catalog though, I may as well take in all the genre’s forms. Who knows, maybe I’ll stumble upon something just as dope as Sabled Sun!

Can’t say Dakhma is that release, though it certainly executes the ‘dark ambient by way of eerie ritual’ mold in fine fashion. The title is reference to an open structure where Zoroastrianists bring dead bodies for the purpose of excarnation, essentially letting carrion birds pick away at corpses before being taken away for burial. Though macabre, this does have practical value to it. Look it up, it’s fascinating.

Dakhma holds six tracks giving us a portrait of the ritual. Some, like Tower Of Silence and The Ossuary, have distant melancholic tones setting the mood of the passing of the dead. Others like The Magi and Nasu, focus more of the sounds and activities that may occur during such an event. The two longest though, Sacrifice and Circle Of The Sun, are some of the deepest, crushing drone I’ve ever heard. It’s like my soul’s being suffocated and squeezed out of my body. Well done.

Alphaxone - Altered Dimensions

Cryo Chamber: 2015

Cryo Chamber was initially just an outlet for Simon Heath’s own material, mostly re-issuing his Atrium Carceri back-catalog alongside his newer project Sabled Sun. Not sure whether he had intention of expanding it beyond that, but surely he knew a few like-minded brooding souls in the dark ambient scene that would fit his idea of ‘cinematic drone’. He was smart about it though, resisting releasing a glut of digital material in hopes of a few stickers. As Cryo Chamber offered CD options as well, the label would have to be a bit pickier in whom they dealt with. This has led to a comparatively smaller roster of producers on the print, but one where each is distinct from the other, where they can build a unique discography under the Cyro Chamber banner. Considering the label’s catalog has quadrupled in the past two years, I’d say they’re onto something good here.

Of course I would be saying that considering I splurged on them when they had a CD blowout over the winter months. Also consider: I knew squat about anyone else on the roster, leaping into all these dark ambient producers completely cold. Hell, I had yet to even sample Mr. Heath’s Atrium Carceri material. To so thoroughly dive into a label promoting music I’ve seldom crossed paths with in the past is one heck of a faithful leap, but one that’s paid off, nothing on Cryo Chamber disappointing yet.

Okay, I’ve spent half this review explaining why y’all be seeing a lot of this label’s material in the coming months. I already went through Alphaxone’s history in the Absence Of Motion review, and there sure isn’t much else I can add to that here. Altered Dimensions, meanwhile, is the second album the Iranian producer released on this print. That’s right, folks, it’s a reverse chronicling of Alphaxone’s output! We’re, like, time-travelers, yo’, inching ever so slowly towards Prime Alphaxone, in the long ago of 2012-ish.

As such, Altered Dimensions takes us to the more abstract explorations of Mr. Saleh’s muse, this one coming off like a journey into the geometric labyrinth-scape at the end of Hellraiser 2. None of that body-horror stuff with grotesque Cenobites lurking about, oh no. We’re in a realm where things are askew from our normal reality, familiar in construct but alien in design. There’s even something of a grounding starting point, opener Distances offering a minimalist rhythm complementing the waves of dark synth pads washing over you - reminds me of something off of a recent Ultimae Records collection.

This is definitely a ‘journey’ sort of album, letting you take in the scenery as you envision with Alphaxone’s atmospherics guiding you along. It’s never so creepy you wish to flee, abstract sounds tugging at your sense of curiosity as you exploring the unknown. It can leave you feeling isolated and vulnerable (holy cow, does Aftermath ever so), yet stronger of spirit for the journey taken. Just don’t leave the puzzle box lying about after.

Alphaxone - Absence Of Motion

Cryo Chamber: 2015

Alphaxone is one of a few aliases adorned by Mehdi Saleh, an Iranian making a tidy sum of his days releasing ambient music of various sorts. Initially it was as Spuntic, mostly releasing on long-running netlabel Enough Records. More recently he’s added Monolithic Cycle on Silent Flow and Inner Place on SUBWISE, but through it all is Alphaxone, essentially the dark ambient yang to the other projects’ more soothing yin. This alias bounced around a few digital prints, and looked set to find a permanent home with fast-growing Kalpamantra. Maybe Mr. Saleh felt his material was getting lost among the many, many releases on that label though, and thus found a new home with Cryo Chamber as they started their expansion. Makes sense, what with Simon Heath looking to nurture a cultivated roster rather than toss any and all submissions out and see what sticks. Plus, y’know, having your material on an actual physical medium couldn’t have been too shabby a deal maker either.

Absence Of Motion is the third Alphaxone album on Cryo Chamber, and seventh released in the past half-decade. If I can glean any sort of progress with Mr. Saleh’s project in this time, it’s been a gradual shift from dark, droning abstraction and bleak atmospherics of his earlier efforts, to looking outward and upward into spa-a-a-ace. Or, wait, his first album, Nucleus MS-106, has a close-up photo of the Moon, so is he making his way back to the cosmic source? Can’t say I’m that curious to find out, so let’s go with the Cryo Chamber narrative instead. Alphaxone came in with the dark and abstract, and is gradually expanding to the unending above and beyond. Something like that.

Mind, we’re not quite in the deep realms of the outer reaches. Even with track titles like Long Eternity, Space Continuum, and Celestial, there’s a sense we’re simply hovering in our planetary atmosphere, the wonders above forever out of reach despite our longing to explore. But remain stuck we are within our Inner Horizon, physically bound by the gravity of our X-Land, stranded, um, Close to home?

Okay, I’m extrapolating meaning out of this album based mostly on track titles and cover art, as the music within is mostly of the dark, droning sort with melancholic pads permeating the sparse tone throughout. And honestly, there isn’t that much difference between the nine tracks offered, Alphaxone not one to provide the sort of distinct narrative as Sabled Sun or other dark ambient sorts do. At most Absence Of Motion provides a suggestive hand for one reading, but this sort of ambience is quite open for interpretation. Or perhaps none at all, simply existing as mood music for its own sake without any specific need or wont for in-depth analysis. Can I help it if I’m getting into this stuff because of my brain’s unyielding need for canvas painting via sounds, harmonies, and timbre? No, I cannot, which is why I splurged on Cryo Chamber’s back catalog, y’dig?

Sabled Sun - Signals I-III

Cryo Chamber: 2014

One does not simply let a sci-fi concept rest on its singular story, not when there is an entire world created. Simon Heath felt there was more worth exploring with his Sabled Sun concept, but wasn't keen on getting bogged down with divergent side-stories, sub-quests, or cul-de-sac tales. Enter the Signals series, digital-only compositions of hour-long ambient drone, loosely tied with the other Sabled Sun albums as companion pieces, but not integral to the main narrative – so like DLC, then?

Honestly, for as much as Mr. Heath's project intrigues me, I only had mild interest in these tracks. I barely indulge in lengthy drone of this sort as it is, preferring the genre in manageable bite-size chunks. Not to mention I remain a staunch believer in only committing hard cash to hard copies, even as the market continuously erodes the need for such mediums (however, it will never erode the ‘want’). On the other hand, unlike other fields of drone, the idea of dark space ambient has a certain allure, a suitable pairing capturing the harsh reality of desolate nothingness that is much of the cosmos. Maybe I'd check out Signals on a streaming service some day, even if I'd never get a chance to review it here.

Then I discovered a three-disc set of Signals had been released. Well, that settles that.

Though it really goes without saying, I’ll say it anyway: if you don’t care for dark droning ambient music, Signals won’t change your mind. These are about as dark and droning examples of the genre as you’ll likely find, though followers of Mr. Heath claim his work as Atrium Carceri is among the best of recent artists, so maybe this is decent starting point too.

Or maybe not. Signals I is almost an endurance test to get through, completely atonal and sonically crushing on the psyche. Running with the Sabled Sun setting, it feels like I’m trapped in orbit of a dying planet, waves of radiation bombarding me from above and below. There’s no emotional resonance here, just stark existence, unable to escape the calamity before me. Only as the droning ambience slowly recedes is a respite granted, though somehow I’m much lonelier because of it. Signals II feeds off of that feeling, also featuring a persistent humming drone throughout though much more subdued and spacious. The first twenty minutes of this track also has an intermittent high-pitched sound, like a transmission trying to pierce the desolate vast emptiness of the cosmos. The droning then changes pitch, and a similar sound briefly plays, as though finally responding to the desperate signals of before. Then nothing but the ebbing waves of drone after that. Dear lord, this is some bleak stuff.

If any of these CD-length tracks have hope it’s Signals III, where minimalist musical tones lend human emotion to the concept. Really, this is little more than a dirge, but man, after feeling such inhospitable isolation in the previous two Signals, any connectivity is welcome.

Sabled Sun - 2147

Cryo Chamber: 2015

In some ways, the haunting final transmission of Sabled Sun’s 2145 could have served as a perfect conclusion to the whole project. It’d be bleak as all Hell, a lone survivor from another time, left to scrape out what meager existence he has left in an inhospitable environment. Yet, struggle on he will, as that is what marks the indomitable human soul. If 2145 was a novel, what more fitting ending: the protagonist overcoming the remorseless antagonist that is the ruined world surrounding him? It matters not whether he survives for long; he's determined to leave some trace of mankind's fighting volition, overcoming our most horrible mistakes. Whether he succeeds or not is irrelevant, this is a spiritual triumph in the face of impossible circumstances. (holy cow, has Sabled Sun ever inspired my inner literature wanker!)

Carry on Simon Heath did though, with follow-up 2146 serving as a direct exploration of the ruined world compared to 2145's broad thematic setting. I initially figured it was set from the perspective of space travelers discovering the remnants of this world, but with an actual point-of-view protagonist being established in the album prior, it could be his continuing story as well. Either or would work in 2146's favor, though with 2147, I get the sense we're firmly back in the eroded shoes of our man from the past.

Whatever the case may be, as the cheery cover art illustrates, things haven’t improved much on the planet in the two years since first awakening (and three years since the last Sabled Sun album came out). The opening track is titled Survival, and through windswept field recordings, pelting acid rain, and staggered steps through charred landscapes, a mournful dirge emanates from the embers of civilization. Much of the music on 2147 follows in Survival’s wake, long droning compositions with dark pads layered to the point of distortion, as though even tonal harmony can no longer exist in this desolate clime’. There’s also more sense of journey in this album, and not just because there’s a track titled Journey either. Other track titles include The Outer Zone, The Space Center, Hope, Home, and Hibernation. Wait… Hope? As in, there’s some actual light within the abyss that is this future Hellscape?

Perhaps. The titles and music suggests there may be a few holdouts, and that our nameless protagonist from 2145 has come across them. Or he decided this world was not worth living in, and thus re-entered cryo slumber, a possibility of a better tomorrow should he be revived again. The final track Dreams Without A Future is certainly the most pleasant thing heard on all three Sabled Sun albums, a gentle bit of piano ambience with only the slightest bit of distortion added. After the ordeal we’ve been through, a respite is most welcome, a sweet release from the turmoil of this broken world. Of course, that’s all conjecture. Guess we’ll have to wait for the next chapter in Mr. Heath’s story to find out.

Sabled Sun - 2145

Cryo Chamber: 2012

It took him nearly three years to do it, but Simon Heath finally released the next chapter in his Sabled Sun story, 2147. But wait, there's still the first album in this series, 2145! I should go back to that one first and get the whole picture, eh? Like, would you read Foundation by skipping Prelude? The Lord Of The Rings by skipping Fellowship? The Thrawn Trilogy by skipping Heir To The Empire? Nah, guy, you do things proper-like and read/hear things from the beginning. So to it then.

As 2145 is the opener to the Sabled Sun setting, it’s only appropriate there’s an Intro. Here, a nameless protagonist wakes up from a cryo’ sleep, providing a brief, haggard narration detailing the health conditions that led him taking such drastic measures. Finally having the reality of his environment settle in, he remarks with abject incomprehension, “You know, I imagined waking up not in any kind of utopia – not so naive – but at least something. I mean, I figured things were bad before... but this? ...what happened?” What indeed.

Heath is never explicit in the details, but track titles do provide some hints.This Is Where The World Ends, Singularity, Silo, Date Expired, Shattered, A New Sun and Acid Rain are such examples, with a few vague ones like The Ancient, Retina, and The Hideout thrown in for good measure. Or these could be references to the world we now find ourselves in, the historical events that led to the downfall of civilization forever lost. The music never explicitly details anything either – we are dealing with a dark ambient project, so our references are mood and conjecture, leaving things to interpretation. It's like an album full of those transitional bits from The FSOL's Dead Cities.

As for the music itself, it’s suitably sombre and bleak. Most tracks run relatively brief for the genre, seldom ever droning on for more than necessary (if you’re after that, check out the Signals spin-off). Some tracks focus more on melody, others on sound effects and immersion, all retaining a gritty, future-shock tone, though not so heavy on the sci-fi ‘scapes as the follow-up 2146 went. I found a few of the latter tracks growing redundant with this album’s theme, though the elegy Acid Rain near the end definitely puts a proper, reflective capper on what was lost in this future world.

The final track though, Transmission/Outro ...damn. A menacing, escalating drone with spits of static reminds you just how desolate the world now is, no chance of recovery, no light at the end. Then the nameless protagonist from the intro returns, sending a desperate plea to anyone who might hear him, even into space. “Humanity’s last testament, a lonely voice in the cosmos.” He wonders if intelligences beyond might discover some trace of what we accomplished, or be disgusted that we threw it all away. Then he proclaims that he’s still there, even as his voice is consumed by suffocating static. Defiant to the last.

Sabled Sun - 2146

Cryo Chamber: 2012

I told you Simon Heath's Sabled Sun project looked interesting! In the Bohemian Groove review. Krussledorf? Geez, it was only three months ago that I reviewed it. Since most of Mr. Heath's background is covered there, I won't dwell on his career here, but a quick refresh on the quick-n-dirty regarding Sabled Sun wouldn't hurt.

Story goes ol' Simon was having label difficulties with his primary outlet for dark ambient music, Cold Meat Industries. Also seeking a chance to try a different sound compared to his Atrium Caceri project, he launched Sabled Sun on his start-up Cryo Chamber. Instead of menacing industrial mood music, this alias would focus on sci-fi elements and be an ongoing narrative of sorts. Cool concept, bro, but I'm not sure I buy into it enough to buy five album's worth of Sabled Sun. Heck, where do I even start? The beginning, of course! Nah, screw that, I'm going with the sweet looking cover, which also happens to be the second album, 2146. I'm assuming this and 2145 are the years this supposed sci-fi story is set in.

Judging by track titles like This Is Where The World Ends, Abandoned, Date Expired, and Silo, I’ll also assume 2145 dealt with an apocalypse, a future civilization meeting its demise either through hubris or exploding sun (maybe both!). 2146, then, is about discovering the remnants of that world – maybe by interplanetary explorers, or perhaps a survivor returning from abroad, we’re not told. Again, track titles like Scanning For Life Forms, Graveyard Of Broken Machines, and My Dying Robot help tell this tale, although I suppose the music contained should do the trick too.

This being a dark ambient and drone album though, there’s very little actual music going on – heck, the sound effects throughout tell a stronger narrative. There’s ghostly transmissions, dripping water (or some exotic liquid – this is sci-fi), future-machine humming, heavy harried breathing coupled with crunching footsteps (aptly titled Exo Suit), pitched-down rhythmic chants, and a general sense of claustrophobic desolation.

I think our explorer finds something surviving on this broken world midway in My New Best Friends, as this track contains the closest thing to a real melody before the end, a charming bleepy thing. Mind you, this is coupled with a mild industrial downbeat, and is soon replaced with another dark chant, but for a brief moment, there was light to be found. Then its general melancholy for the remainder – what did he see in that Planetarium, I wonder.

The final track, End Me, is an odd one out, more fitting for a indie-‘tronica shoegaze album (guitars!); or maybe the credits roll for this particular chapter of the Sabled Sun saga. Where does the story go from here? If you want to find out, Heath followed 2146 with three Signals releases. However, they’re each singular fifty-minute long pieces, and I can’t say I’m in a hurry to hear them. I prefer my ambient drone in tasty chunks, thank you.