The Green Kingdom - Empyrean

Dronarivm: 2021

I want to start this review with a total cliche like “Empyrean is the hotly anticipated follow-up to The Green Kingdom's breakout album Harbor”, but there's little truth to that. If anything, the hottest track in his discography is that Untitled 2 from Expanses, released two years before Harbor. Not to mention he's released some half-dozen additional albums since then, so whatever hot anticipation there may have been in the wake of the Hotline Miami 2 exposure has surely subsided some. I certainly don't see any additional LPs keeping pace in his Last.fm scrobbling stats, though Egress seems to have done respectable numbers.

But nay, there's a singular, silly reason why I've sub-consciously built internal hype around Empyrean. After spending half a decade wandering about labels like Lost Tribe Sound, Sound Of Silence, Hidden Vibes, and Past Inside The Present, Mr. Cottone finally returned to the label that nurtured his initial claim-to-fame, Dronarivm. Okay, maybe not 'claim-to-fame', but it's where both Expanses and Harbor were released, so greatest exposure. Maybe. It could have just been incidental coincidence it worked out like that, and something off of Incidental Music instead could have been the Hotline Miami 2 breakout.

(Fun Fact: I actually dozed off while listening to Green Kingdom's Springhill on Deezer, after which the streaming service spent the next seven hours playing music from other artists like Com Truise, Pilotpriest, Zombie Hyperdrive, Magic Sword... and Untitled 2 *ten* times! No wonder that track's got a tonne of streaming plays)

Anyhow, Empyrean is a little different compared to previous Green Kingdom Dronarivm outings, in that there's greater emphasis on piano rather than the usual assortment of acoustic guitar and sound-sample manipulations. I'm not sure whether Michael's gone this route in the past – he's got a lot of albums to sift through, after all. It wouldn't surprise me though, if more inclusion of the ol' ivories has been a recent development in his repertoire. Just like every dance music producer eventually turns to house or techno, every ambient producer eventually turns to modern classical, or minimalist piano at least.

And we're right off into the gentle piano with slide guitar ambience and crackly effects with opening Opalescent, a track that's all but guaranteed to get your Budd & Eno triggers flaring. Sun Tail gets back to the acoustic strumming, while Shinrin-yoku mixes the two up as a something of a duet. And speaking of Harold, Michael dedicates the mid-track Pavilion to him, a tune that I cannot deny, has me getting the weepy feels. It honestly takes me a bit to emotionally recover from that as the album plays out, but fortunately closer Another Sky does the trick with its angelic pads and ethereal guitar strums.

Yeah, Empyrean totally has a 'drifting among the clouds, basking in the filaments of heaven' vibe going for it. Which has been a comfortable lane for The Green Kingdom for a while now. Just this time, more piano, less tape fuzz and digital garbling.

Purl & protoU - Sub Life

Dronarivm: 2019

Oh my, this is a cross-over event I never even conceived of. Superman meets Spider-Man, sure. The Simpsons meet The Critic, absolutely. Dr. Octagon meets Deltron 3030? Well, I marked out. Purl and protoU though? Like, how did these two even cross paths, much less find time to collaborate on an album? True, Ludvig has had many pairings with musicians this past decade, though mostly remained within his domain of dubby downtempo techno. Sasha, meanwhile, has been dark ambient 4 lyfe, y0'. These are two scenes that almost never cross-pollinate. Yet here we are, a mega team-up extraordinaire of cosmic proportions, and other Stan Lee levels of hyperbole you can imagine.

Even more interesting is this happened on Dronarivm, the first time either have appeared on the ambient and modern classical print. Heck, it's the first time protoU has appeared anywhere other than Cryo Chamber. And while Purl has drifted among many labels (Databloem, Dewtone, Archives, etc.), he'll always be one of Silent Season's key acts in my mind. It's possible Ludvig would migrating to Dronarivm at some point, but seeing Sasha anywhere other than good ol' Cryo blows my mind.

Still, given the contents of Sub Life, I can't imagine this album appearing anywhere else. It certainly fits within the Moscow label's wheel-house, what with the atmospheric treatments and minimalist modern classical touches. It also sounds little of what I'd consider 'traditional' Purl or protoU music – no dense layers of dubby synths or cinematic dronescapes. For sure I can hear elements of both as Sub Life plays, but if I were to do a blind listen, I doubt I'd easily identify them, needing multiple hints getting there. (“Okay, one of these musicians has exclusively released music on Cryo Chamber...” “God Body Disconnect! Because guitars!”)

Five tracks averaging around a dozen minutes each makes up Sub Life, all following a relatively similar path. A moody bit of atmospheric ambient sets the tone, with field recordings and dronescapes creating a sonic setting rich in texture, but not so thick you feel suffocated by your surroundings. A mysterious, desolate valley in Trees And Stones, an open dale in Sub Life, the wind-swept dunes at the shores of a beach in Sacred Fluids, a crisp breeze through a billowing leaves in Recreating The Purpose. All quite lovely pieces of calming tones, sure to ease you into a deep slumber should you doze off to it.

But nay, the main thrust of each piece is a singular featured instrument, improvising away in that modern classical way this sort of music enjoys. You get the piano in Trees And Stones and Morning Light, acoustic guitar in Sacred Fluids, ethereal voices in Sub Life, and even a subtle mix of all three in Recreating The Purpose.

If anything, this album has the feel of a ballet, the two performers gliding among each other in fluid movements. Which is par for the course where Dronarivm is concerned, made more remarkable with the dancers involved.

Legiac - The Voynich Manuscript

Dronarivm: 2016

Hey, it's another Dronarivm release. Remember when I went through a bunch of these at the start of this months-long alphabetical backlog? My how time flies. Been nearly one-hundred reviews written since the last item from this label, and the fact I'm still not through yet sends my mind to the lands of Bogglin. Heck, this marks the fifth 'V' album in this batch, which increased my total 'V' albums by 30%! Can you just imagine how many 'W's there are? (spoiler: not many)

There hasn't been much released under the name Legiac, but the players involved have definitely been busy bodies. Dutch brothers Don and Roel Funcken started out doing glitchy braindance, IDM, and electro under a number of aliases, most prominent being Funckarma, Cane, and Mystery Artist. They got a look-in with Very Important IDM labels like Warp and Skam, but never broke out of obscurity in any significant way. The other player involved in Legiac is Cor Bolten, who Lord Discogs tells me was active with new wave bands since the early '80s, whilst doing film score work on the side.

Seems like an unlikely pairing with these folks, but somewhere along the way, they did team up. First it was doing experimental stuff as Cor Bolten, Don Funcken & Roel Funcken, then doing downtempo, abstract stuff as Dif:use, and finally IDM leaning material as Legiac. That one looked to be a one-off effort, and a final one, the individual parties going their separate ways again. A few years ago though, Roel and Cor dusted Legiac off, The Voynich Manuscript their second album under the revitalized project. Yo', where Don in all this?

When I first dove into this album, I wasn't expecting something as melodic as we get here. True, I didn't have any prior musical knowledge of Misters Funcken and Bolten, just my preconceived notions based on what Dronarivm works I have taken in. And for sure there's ample amounts of droning ambience and blanketing field recordings present, but often used in a subtler, graceful manner than most other works in this vein. There's space and depth in these layers of sound, with melodic tones at the fore, but never so prominent they drown out the burbling static and white noise lurking underneath. What's remarkable is the chaotic sub-surface of sound is so consistent throughout this album, whenever it does recede, it not only makes the melodic leads leap out, you also feel that absence as though you've lost a chunk of your soul. Or maybe it's just like that in the final piece Ambikythera Mechanism, what with opulent organ tones driving things forward.

It really is a gorgeous composition, and many of the early tracks in The Voynich Manuscript are darn lovely as well. However, there's also a lengthy stretch towards the back-half that kinda' dithers about with wallpaper sonic doodles and experimental drone. They're fine in their own right, but compared to the highs this album hits, kinda' forgettable too. So it goes.

Dag Rosenqvist - Elephant

Dronarivm: 2016

As I trawl through Dronarivm albums, one thing's become clear to me: they don't really have a set roster of artists to their name. Rather, they welcome many a journeyman (and journeywoman) for a release or two, most of which already have extensive discographies behind them. Not that Dronarivm can help it, the Moscow print being in existence for a mere half-decade at this point. Either their A&R are quite efficient in bringing in veteran talent, or they quickly established a rep that made all these abstract ambient, drone-classical dudes and dudettes eager to contribute to the Dronarivm catalogue. Fair play I say, since the label's introduced me to a ton of musicians that I'd never have stumbled upon otherwise.

Maybe this Dag Rosenqvist though, as he's got quite the history in music making. His career started out as Jasper TX, releasing albums throughout the mid-'00s that leaned towards the post-rock side of things. As time went on, his guitar strums grew more abstract and droning, which has acts like Fennesz and Tim Hecker popping up in Lord Discogs' Recommendations algorithms. During this period he collaborated with other musicians under his own name, and when he retired the Jasper TX project in 2011, carried on making music as such. And he's played a part in other assorted groups like From The Mouth Of The Sun and The Silent Set. With over thirty albums to his name, the amount of labels he's appeared on is extensive, with almost none drawing recollection in my eyes (ooh, waz' this Slaapwel Records?). Just how many post-rock, ambient fuzz prints even exist?

So obviously ol' Dag has made more music than I can reasonably take in to give this here Elephant perspective among his works. From what I can glean, it touches upon many facets of his muse, tying everything together under a pseudo-narrative of dealing with tumultuous emotions long after we're told to have moved on from them. Gentle, quiet passages are interrupted with brutal distortion (oh God, does Porcelain ever do this). Touching piano leitmotifs lead to mournful reflections with horns and cellos. Tension is built through muted percussion and twitchy drone, erupting in abrasive climaxes that, even after knowing they're coming, still throws me off with dread anticipation. Throughout it all, Elephant almost cruelly teases, tugs, and toys with your senses, and I have no doubt this album captures a rather bad day for those suffering from crippling anxiety, even while doing something as simple as “out grocery shopping” or “when you ride your bike to work”, as Dag puts it. (he apparently went through some difficult times himself).

The album all plays out like a soundtrack to an intense, psychological drama, scored by an unrestrained Hans Zimmer (he loves tense builds and overbearing crescendos). The track Come Silence even has a little noir feel going for it. It's also nothing I expected from an album called Elephant, but then this little Dronarivm excursion's been chock-full of surprises. What's one more?

Olan Mill - Cavade Morlem

Dronarivm: 2015

Olan Mill makes ambient music with a modern classical mindset. Or modern classical music with an ambient approach. Or drone music with a whole 'lotta strings. Or calm music that has nothing to do with Viking breakcore. I somehow feel that such a description still isn't specific enough, but there's only so many ways one can describe ambient music. It doesn't even have nifty unique 'narratives' I can wax poetic over like its darker cousin. Nay, this is ambient music in its purist form, in that it's relatively formless, abstract art best served as background texture, though accompanying a lovely video of natural settings or garden fauna doesn't hurt either.

As always then, it's up to the info surrounding Olan Mill to fill out my self-imposed word count quota. This is in fact a project headed up by Alex Smalley, who's been releasing music under this guise since way back in 2010 (holy cow, it's been seven years!). He also has another project with one Simon Bainton as Pausal, and while that one's also been releasing music since 2010, it isn't with as much frequency. Still, between the two, Mr. Smalley has accumulated around eighteen albums under his belt, across such labels as Serein, Preservation, hibernate, Barge Recordings, Students Of Decay, plus a DJ mix for Headphone Commute. Oh, a couple items on Dronarivm too.

Of what I can gather from sporadic samples, Olan Mill trends towards the more modern classically minded vein of Mr. Smalley's muse, whereas his Pausal material goes more ambient. Not that your typical layman will notice much difference between either project, but with my highly attuned music critic ears, I can indeed tell there's distinct instrumentation in Olan Mill, whereas Pausal tends to layer the timbre thick in pad and string drone.

Which makes Cavade Morlem a conundrum within ol' Alex' discography, in that it comes off more of a Pausal album than an Olan Mill one, at least with the limited examples of each project I've taken in. The music here started out as pieces performed live in concerts involving violins, guitars, plus samples of organs and voices, which fits the Olan Mill mould. Smalley then reworked those into comparatively serene compositions, where the inevitable Brian Eno namedrop is unavoidable. Heck, Byruck wouldn't sound out of place as a companion to An Ending (Ascent). Also, Gurriva reminds me of the outro portion of First Twilight from Deep Forest. Talk about your obscure callbacks.

While the actual arrangements don't differ much from track to track - flowing stretches of layered synths, strings, and sounds - they do offer differing textures dependant on which leads. Chort features prominent ethereal vocals, Novnal has angelic pads, Feina features shimmering strings, Lighul has an ominous tone, and Live At The Millenium Barn has a surprisingly heavy bottom end on its synths, like the power of a hefty church organ. It's all a rather vintage, classical take on ambient music, which only makes sense given the musician involved.

Cyril Secq & Orla Wren - Branches

Dronarivm: 2016

Can't say I've ever taken in an album of classical guitar music. Have I even dabbled? The closest I can think of is Michael Brook, but his Cobalt Blue was more an ambient thing, his guitar work another layer of timbre (especially that sweet 'Infinite Guitar' layer!). I must have a couple stray examples of the stuff lurking in this pile of music o' mine, yet the fact I can't instantly recall any doesn't bode well for its prospects. Like, is Jam & Spoon's Hispanos In Space really the best I can think of?

And yeah, all those prog-rock dudes for sure lay out some complicated, classically inspired segments in their works. They're still doing it within the confines of prog-rock though, with fellow band members contributing to the overall songcraft. No, I'm talking solo, acoustic, non-folksy, improvisational technical works. With such greats as... um, okay, I don't know anyone in this field. Even bringing up Wiki-Lists draws a complete blank on yours truly. Julian Bream? Xuefei Yang? Craig Ogden? John Williams? (no, not that John Williams) Yeah, I know shit all here. But hey, even doing this cursory research into the subject has jacked a solid info-dump into my brainpan, so there's that.

Which finally brings us to Branches from Cyril Secq and Orla Wren. The former formed the experimental French folk group Astrïd, while the latter often pairs up with acoustic string musicians to make clicky fuzzy abstract ambient folk-pop. I'm assuming the two were at least aware of each others work, as somewhere along the way, Orla roped Cyril into providing guitar work for his 2013 album Book Of The Folded Forest. Mind, several musicians contributed to that one, as is often the case with many Orla Wren albums, but the creative synergy must have held stronger between the two, going into a collaborative project together. Cyril will provide the strings, and Orla will provide the treatments.

No, really, that's about all there is to Branches. Mr. Secq's finger plucking is spacious and unfussy, the very definition of music as like a meandering stream of conscious flow. Or exploring the branching paths on the limb of a tree, as it were. Of the eight tracks, Troisième Branche uses violin strokes rather than acoustic strumming, while Sixième Branche and Huitième Branche mixes the two together. Regarding the types of guitar Cyril uses, 'fraid I can't help you there. As said, I'm woefully under-educated in the intricacies of classical acoustic music. It does all sound quite pleasant though.

As for Orla Wren, it seems as though he's taken a step back in this partnership, his minimalist sounds consisting of static burbles, clicking pops, sprinkling tonks, airy feedback, weird echoes, and the sort of random electronic noises you'd expect of musique concrete. You know, pretentious art! Heh, no, I'm ribbing - Branches doesn't come off nearly as stuffy. It is extremely avante garde though, clearly intended for intellectual sorts more interested in studying minutiae than a little easy-listening enjoyment.

Lorenzo Masotto - Aeolian Processes

Dronarivm: 2017

I've bought a few releases from Dronarivm now, but it wasn't with intent to scope the Moscow label out. It just happened that way, me spotting a few eye-catching items, and taking a blind leap of faith that they'd turn out interesting. That they have, so I figured a little stop-over at Dronarivm's Bandcamp couldn't hurt either, see what their full discography looks like. And lo', wouldn't you know it, they had one of those nifty 'bulk CD' deals available too. I sure as shit can't resist one of those, and I may as well spring for the big ol' 10x bundle while I'm at it. Only... there isn't even that many available in one fell swoop, Dronarivm's limited-runs having thus created a stock issue. Ah well, the five-piece it is then, starting with Aeolian Processes from Lornezo Masotto.

Mr. Masotto hails from Italy (shock!), and is more of a classical musician than the drone ambient sort I've often found on Dronarivm. Not that this is some anomaly with the label, as they do offer outlets for modern classical composers. As this blog's a testament towards though, it's not a style of music I typically indulge in, but as the more minimalist strains of the genre can tread into ambient's territory, I'll cross paths with it on occasion. That all being said, I cannot deny it was the cover art that drew me into Aeolian Processes, a windswept tree shorn naked by atmospheric forces a striking image among Dronarivm's usual fare. You'd almost expect it a dark ambient release. All that's missing is an abandoned boat laying at the base of the tree's trunk.

Lorenzo primarily specializes in piano compositions, of which makes up the bulk of the music here as well. Again, I'm no expert on this aspect of modern classical, though I do know this is a wide open field of expertise, several pianists across the globe plying their trade to captivated audiences. Martha Argerich! Vladimir Horowitz! Evgeny Kissin! Sergei Rachmanioff! Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli! Maurizio Pollini! Yuja Wang! Krystian Zimerman! Mikhail Pletnev! Vladimir Ashkenzy! These are all great piano players, because Ranker.com tells me they are. I'm not sure how Lorenzo Masotto stacks against them, but I bet they don't add subtle electronic drones and burbling synths to their compositions.

His electronic treatments provide each track with their own flavor beyond being another lovely piece of melancholy piano music. Space Flowers, When The City Sleeps, and the titular cut have little bloopy arps playing in the background. My Great-Grandmother Lived In The Mountains makes use of pulsing synths playing in reverse. Geyser features blobby burbles bubbling out. Desert and Repeater indulge a little pad drone in support. Drone even features something approaching percussion.

I can't say Aeolian Processes is the most exceptional album of piano music I've ever heard, because I'm hardly well-versed in the genre to give such a definitive statement. For those rather grey days, however, I do find it most pleasant indeed.

The Green Kingdom - Harbor

Dronarivm: 2016

I feel like I’ve seen Michael Cottone’s project somewhere before, but my memory fails me. It could simply be a case of mistakenly misplacing The Green Kingdom for any other number of ambient aliases or titles over the years, this combination of words evoking similar imagery for any open field or deep forest. Or perhaps it’s an association with the more shoegazey side of mellow indie rock. For sure the sound you find on Harbor contains some of those markers, what with mellow, gentle acoustic guitars riding along calm, floaty pad work, but this is still firmly in the ambient-Proper camps.

Scoping out what Lord Discogs has to say, I’m left blank as well. Mr. Cottone’s been releasing music as The Green Kingdom for over a decade now, but he’s as much a label journeyman as you’ll ever find - almost every release of his came out on a different, obscure print (Heldernacht, SEM Lable, Own Records, The Land Of, Nomadic Kids Republic (!), Tench). If anything, he seems to have finally settled down with Dronarivm, this and his previous album Expanses both coming out on the Russian ambient-drone home. He also provided a podcast mix for the blog A Strangely Isolated Place, thus rubbing shoulders with the likes of Ulrich Schnauss, Carbon Based Lifeforms, ASC, Bvdub, Martin Nonstatic, and a slew of other names I don’t recognize (so… many… ambient…).

Still, even this wasn’t enough to spike my memory, so I went to Last.fm to see if there was any additional info The Lord That Knows All may have missed. And holy cow, what is up with this Expanses 2 track? It’s gotten tons of plays, the rest of his music only modest scrobbles. Is it the same with Spotify streams? You bet, the track garnering over three-hundred fifty thousand plays – the next closest, from the same album, barely squeaks over the twenty-thousand mark. Dear Lord, why has that one track gotten so much atten- oh, it was in the Hotline Miami 2 soundtrack. Yep, that’ll do it for ya’. Can’t say that’s why The Green Kingdom looks familiar to me, but interesting finding this out nonetheless.

So, Harbor. The concept is simple enough, Mr. Cottone looking to guide the listener along the soothing waves of seaside shores. Surprisingly, there’s little use of wave samples, Green Kingdom instead letting the rolling drone mimic the feeling of chilling on a beach. Some tracks offer a chipper, mellow vibe with guitars leading, almost like an overdubbed version of Kruangbin (Harbor, Jade Star). Other tracks skew closer to dub techno, though with plenty of warm pads keeping the cold sterility away (Haze Layers, Morrowloops). Mostly though, we get calm, dubby pad drones with heavily treated orchestral and acoustic instruments. It all rather sounds like… wait, the opening part of Evergreen Sunset… that really sounds like… Vangelis? Creation Du Monde? Yeah, it totally does! Oh man, forget the next Miami Hotline game, get The Green Kingdom to score the next iteration of Cosmos.

Chihei Hatakeyama - Above The Desert

Dronarivm: 2016

As important it is finding reliable artists and labels that sustain your music cravings, even more important is the trusted shop that exposes you to something new and different. Well, maybe not radically different – gotta’ stick to that comfort zone, after all – but at least material you’d have overlooked had the staff’s recommendations not steered you in that direction. One of the surprising options I’ve come across is Ultimae’s shop at their website. Of course they shill their own material, but offer up quite a few other items from other sources too. Now isn’t that mighty classy of ‘em, letting competing labels hawk their wares on their webspace (for a small financial reparation, I’m sure). Once a year I peruse the Ultimae Shop, and have come across some mighty fine selections indeed, including Distant System, and the compilation Absence Of Gravity, my first exposure to AstroPilot.

It is under such circumstances I’ve now come into audio contact of Chihei Hatakeyama, yet another in the bottomless bay of drone ambient musicians. Seems he’s had a tidy solo career the past decade, a few dozen albums to his name. Naturally, that’s more than I’ll ever get to listen to, but if I’m gonna’ do a review of this latest(ish) album of his, Above The Desert, I’d better get some discographic knowledge-son crash coursing through my earholes. Let’s see what Superion Spotify has on offer.

Ooh, quite a few of his albums, turns out. Guess I’ll just fire up his most popular ones for a sampling and- wait, what’s this? His top track, Ferrum, has over five-and-a-half million plays!? Holy cow, that’s astounding! I had no idea he was this popular! How’d I ever miss-

No, wait, most of his top tracks linger in the five-digit range. Very respectable numbers for an ambient drone artist, true, but it looks like this Ferrum is an anomaly, only a couple six-digit hit tracks even coming close. Why did this one track do such damage? Was it featured on an HBO Original soundtrack? Namedropped by Wolfgang Voigt? Did Buzzfeed include it in a 14 Drone Masterpieces You Must Hear RIGHT NOW! feature? So many questions…

As for Above The Desert, I can definitively say this is indeed another Chihei Hatakeyama LP of pleasant drone ambient. Timbres blend into an amorphous tonal soup, where it doesn’t seem like much happens if you play it in the background, though layers do emerge with a little focus. There’s always something distinct humming underneath the main pads – soft clattering in Before The Sabbath, creaky field recordings in Wind In Mind, gentle guitar strums in A Placid Mountain Lake. Most tracks run an average of seven minutes, with a whopping nineteen-minute piece to close out. The Tower Of Babel’s a curious track too, always feeling like it’s wrapping up soon. Yet it just keeps on going. And going. And going. Never ending, forever traversing whatever path ol’ Chihei leads it along. It’s like a dancehall rapper of noodly pad work.

Autistici - Temporal Enhancement

Dronarivm: 2015

Autistici is someone I regret coming into so cold. As with many larks and flights of music buying fancy, I picked this up with no prior knowledge of the artist and no checks of prior material. I can never tire of that thrill in random chance purchases, browsing through shops where cover art is your only clues of what’s within (erm, and good sorting). And I cannot deny some of its present with Bandcamp pages, having a label’s output nicely laid out for your perusal convenience. It’s definitely led me to a few splurges these past couple years, content in the knowledge my monies are feeding a more direct route to the artist than most options (or, in the case of used shop shopping, not at all). While neither Autistici nor the label Dronarivm are names I’ve any familiarity with, their association with others that I do know was enough for the blind pickup.

All this, of course, is just a roundabout way of making excuses for whatever gaps of knowledge I’ll undoubtedly commit in the next few hundred words. For Autistici, or David Newman in the Sheffield phone directory, strikes me as an artist that requires a proper full-discography plunge, if only to understand how his craft has evolved over time. Temporal Enhancement is his fifth album on a fifth label, despite the fact he has his own print (Audiobulb Records). His approach to music is less musicality, and more explorations of singular sounds, going for pure abstraction of field recordings, noises, and manipulations of natural tones. His music can be quite soothing, melodic, and calming drone, but he’d just as soon go noisy and harsh with a cacophony of experimental percussion. Taking in quick Spotify sampling, the one clear consistency through all of Autistici’s work I noticed is never resting on singular ideas for long, elements coming and going even if it creates a complete tonal clash within the track itself.

So too is the case with Temporal Enhancement, a collection of six tracks, most averaging four-to-five minutes. There’s also a nine-plus minute closer, and a whopping seventeen-minute composition smack in the middle, and as good a summation of the album as any.Habituation Of The Heart darkly drones along for a significant amount of time, ghostly voices and electronic sparks creating an oddly spacious yet claustrophobic setting traditional industrial sorts would approve of. Just when creaking, contorting sounds make the atmosphere almost unbearable, a release, with gentle heartbeat pulsing through soft white noise, distant lullaby and children at play easing you out.

Temporal Enhanncement as a whole plays out like this, abrasive sonic assaults making up the first half, with gentler, dubbed-out works making up the backend. Mr. Newman described this album as an exploration of the human condition, and with titles like Opened Up Too Quickly, Thinking Before Feeling, and The Grotesque Physicality Of Waiting, I’d say he sums things up just fine, if in a rather over-stimulated fashion at times. Mm, Ritalin with a Xanax chaser.