Autumn Of Communion - 3

...txt/Fantasy Enhancing: 2013/2023

I cannot deny a little disappointment in the cover art of these AoC reissues. They're fine as is, but the originals were a class unto themselves. I get why its sometimes done, rights to original art perhaps only valid for the label they're originally released on. I don't understand why this particular release was changed though. The original Autumn Of Communion 3 came out on ...txt, another of Lee Norris' many labels. Shouldn't it track, then, that he could retain the rights to 3's artwork, even if it comes out on a different label? Polydeuces, also initially out on ...txt, kept its Saturn beauty shot for its recent reissue, so why couldn't 3 have kept the image of a wooden skiff in a dry lake at sunset? Right, its mostly playing to my weird fascination with land-locked water craft, while the alpine terrain of the reissue makes better sense as visual accompaniment for the ambient within. Just, y'know... abandoned boats, yo'!

So I didn't have much to say about 3 when talking up the rest of the Autumn Of Communion albums last review. I'll grant this is technically the last of the numbered self-titled albums that I finally heard (do single track 3.5 and remix LP 3.9 count in this? I wager not), so didn't have months or years worth of settling thoughts of it regardless. Even if I had heard this when it was new, however, I'm sure general consensus is this is the black sheep of the original four AoC albums.

I sense Misters Norris and Chillage spent plenty of hours just jamming away with their synths and such while crafting the first two AoC albums. Some structure in the final product had to be maintained though, since they were putting them out on other labels (Fax+ and Anodize, respectably). Same is likely true of Autumn Of Communion 4, initially a Carpe Sonum Records joint, so another LP with more variety of tempos. Something out on one of Lee's prints though? Hell, indulge to your heart's content in lengthy ambient drone sessions, and make a full CD's worth of it.

Right, things don't get too unwieldy on 3, the longest piece being opener In The Valley Of Tanaro at some twenty-three minutes. An ever-evolving track, it runs the gamut of gentle, wispy tones to wide-screen synth pads and burbling electronics, effectively capturing the sensation of being out and about open spaces – or cruising a river of northern Italy, in this case.

Follow-up Shoni provides the most rhythm of any piece, but is little more than the soft pitter-patter of ambient techno buried beneath grandiose synths. Rhea gets more mysterious and crystalline in its use of pads and echoes, is quite lovely, but not sure it needed an hour-plus exploration on 3.5. Disentastra gets back to the more opulent side of this album, while Teles feels of an experimental piece with its discordant layering of tones and timbre. Almost reminds me of Banco de Gaia's more minimalist moments.

Autumn Of Communion - 2

Anodize/Fantasy Enhancing: 2013/2022

For the longest time, I regarded this AoC album as one of their hardest items to procure. Yes, even more than the Autumn Of Communion debut on Fax+. Their second album on Anodize though? Forget about it. Never mind the short-lived ambient techno label is cultish even on the 'cult ambient techno label' spectrum, existing a mere two years and thus rendering their CDs extremely rare. Nay, saddle on the fact Autumn Of Communion 2 was released in a tin box, upping the 'collector's item' factor, creating one pricey item on the resell market. Definitely one in need of a reissue for those desiring a hard copy version, is what I'm saying.

It took nearly a decade (ignore the AoC box-set for now), but we finally got that reissue on Fantasy Enhancing. The first four Autumn Of Communion albums, in fact, with more on the way? Eh, I don't know if 5 and 6 really need them, but I see Polydeuces got one too. Point being, nearly everything worth having gets reissued eventually, if you're patient enough. One doesn't really need to break the bank on out-of-print items if you're a regular consumer of musical products. But man, some of those old, vintage tins, sure look nice and unique on one's shelves...

Anyway, Autumn Of Communion 2 is a great album, possibly the best of the duo's first run of numbered LPs. Not that the first and 4 are slouches, but if I were to do one of my 'Sportsing Survey' rankings, 2 would definitely rank tops.

For one thing, it refines most of what was presented on the debut, creating a much stronger flow between tracks. The Intervals, for example, are more evenly spaced, and feel like proper pauses between centrepiece tracks rather than sonic doodles there for their own sake. And while some may find them hokey, I quite like the included vocal samples of science talk and sci-fi jargon – really lends itself to that classic Fax+ vibe that inspired Lee and Mick's desire to work together in this project.

Opener Interpreter Of The Signs really hits those vintage Pete Namlook notes, what with the soft, slightly dubby beatcraft and spacious, spacey synths. So Powerful In The Mass gets more ambient techno, but does last a tad long at seventeen minutes in length, while Communion Signal does the tranquil, bleepy ambient for about a dozen minutes.

Then 2 practically shifts tone into Goodbye PK, Mick and Lee's tribute to Mr. Kuhlmann's passing. If this piece doesn't tug at all the feels deep in your chest cavity, you just ain't human, man. It kinda' leaves the brisk ambient techno of Cosmic Board Fusion out of sorts as a a follow-up, but the gentle field recordings of closer Perpetua grounds things back to Earth. So yeah, something of an album of two halves with a creamy middle. When most AoC LPs tend to come off just as a collection of tracks though, it's definitely a stronger listening experience.

Lucette Bourdin - A View From Afar

Dark Duck Records/Fantasy Enhancing: 2012/2021

Thusly, we reach the end of Retrospective Box Set (2005 – 2017). Well, not quite the literal end, the remix album Glimpses Volume 1 the official last numerical CD of this twenty CD collection. Chronologically though, A View From Afar is darn close to the last item within Lucette's actual discography, this and Breath Of Grace released less than a month apart. And since it was released after her passing the year before, these pieces may very well have been the last she crafted before her battle with breast cancer was lost.

But nay, A View From Afar is the final album in alphabetical order (ignore those articles!), and as such, the final album in my twenty-month coverage of this box set. Holy cow, what a journey its been! Well, okay, maybe not, but it is weird to think I've been at this for nearly two years now. There's been flurries of activity (the Nordic Waves series), there's been relative droughts (the gap between Drum-atic Atmospheres and The Mystery Of The Midnight Sun), but by and large, we've progressed through this collection at about an album per month. Have we gained greater insight into one of ambient music's more unsung composers? Or simply plugged along thanks to OCD inertia? Who's to say, but I'd like to think I've come away from this journey hearing more quality music than not.

And how does this final outing with Ms. Bourdin stack up to the rest of her catalogue? 'Tis a'ight, touching closer to her New Age and modern classical side of things compared to her other ambient drone compositions. A tidy six tracker, three pieces breaching the fifteen minute mark, the others hovering around nine-minutes in length. Opener Rising Into Bliss has some mild synth rhythms pattering about in the background before settling into swaying synth pads. Procession Of The Lesser Lights opens with light percussion as well, but is quickly jettisoned for more standard synth noodling. Dream Dancing goes quite ethereal and gentle, while Cascading Waves is bright and shimmery, almost like listening to music glistening off crystals within a waterfall cavern. Rêverie is more moody, while the titular closer is more minimalist. Again, all relatively middle of the road when stacked against the other nineteen albums I've listened to.

Sadly, not a rousing, climatic finale of my coverage of Retrospective Box Set (2005 – 2017), but so it goes. Part of me feels like I should do some sort of Album Ranking, but is that really fair? It's not like I've covered every album Lucette put out, indeed the bulk of her Earth Mantra material still out there in the internet-ether. Maybe if they're consolidated into an additional collection, I'll get to those, but for now, I'm well sated on Ms. Bourdin. I'll definitely return to albums like Rising Fog and Silver Moon and Oceanic Space and Ancient Memories, with the occasional spin of the others down the line. It's been a heck of a trip, yo'.

Lucette Bourdin - Undercurrents

Dark Duck Records/Fantasy Enhancing: 2009/2021

Don't think I forgot about this ongoing box-set coverage either. I mean, alphabetical OCD mandates I couldn't even if I tried, though as mentioned, I sometimes miss items when I don't have a physical copy verifying I have it in my collection. No mistaking something like Retrospective Box-Set (2005 – 2017) on my shelves though. In fact, I think it just might be among the chunkiest items in my possession. The only other box-sets that rival it are those two Neil Young Archives box-sets, the indisputable, indomitable Pete Namlook tribute box-set Die Welt Ist Klang, and the Symphonic Suite “Dragon Quest” Complete CD-Box. And really, that rivalry is only in packaging girth, none of them containing twenty individual CDs within. When it comes to total content, Lucette Bourdin's collection trumps them all nearly three-fold! Okay, maybe not Archives Vol. 1 - that one has a chunky picture book too.

Anyhow, Undercurrents (or Under Currents, as originally titled – saving some extra pennies on typeface there, Fantasy Enhancing?) came out at a point where Ms. Bourdin was getting a little frisky in her sonic explorations. Not only did she go on to release the more rhythm-centric albums Drums And Repercussions and Drum-atic Atmospheres later that year, but had indulged in some truly epic ambient excursions with the ultra-lengthy compositions as found on Ancient Memories the year prior. This one has a couple long-form pieces as well, Glacier Lament breaching fifteen minutes, and the titular cut weighing in at a hefty twenty-minutes plus. Okay, so not quite the near thirty-minute outing from Memories Of Acoma, but compared to the modest ten-minute cuts on most of her tracks, it's stretching things some.

Like the first two pieces on here, A Parade Of Stones and Rain Forest Draining. The former starts with some standard, isolated pad drone, the subtlest of tribal rhythm lurking underneath. It mostly plays out like this for the duration, with a proper downbeat emerging some two-thirds in. Rain Forest Draining, however, gets really thick with the field recordings, which is funny to me because I made a big deal about such sonic techniques not really being a major focus of Lucette's body of work. Yet here they are, a rain forest filled with them. Okay, they don't last long, eventually giving way to more subtle ambient drone, but man, for a spell there, I thought we were in for a sample-heavy record here.

Two 'shorter' pieces touching closer to Lucette's more opulent synth play bridge the middle of Undercurrents, then we're in the final two long tracks. Glacier Lament has its own field recordings, gentle dripping water as though heard from below the surface of a melting mass of ice. A suitably melancholic synth drone accompanies the feelings of frozen loss. Under Currents, meanwhile, is a fairly standard synth drone excursion with oscillating sine-waves. Kinda' retro, sat among Ms. Bourdin's larger body of work. Or at least, 'retro' to my ears, slowly digesting her works for nearly two years now.

Lucette Bourdin - A Thousand Voices

Dark Duck Records/Fantasy Enhancing: 2010/2021

How long have I been chipping away at this box-set? It doesn't feel like a 'forever thing' yet, but goodness, has it been an age since starting way back in ye' olde date of November 2021. My review of Ancient Memories may as well be ancient memories now, though it is nice things have kinda' ramped up to about a month-per-album rate. Barring any unforeseen happenstance or my gallivanting off on another month-long 'me time' excursion, I should have Retrospective Box Set (2005 – 2017) wrapped before the end of summer! Only thing that can stand in my way is another box-set with a silly alphabetical stipulation clogging up the queue, but what are the chances of that happening, eh? Haha, hah!

A Thousand Voices was the lone album Lucette released for Dark Duck Records in 2010, her time more spent with Earth Mantra that year. There wasn't any particular reason for that, just a fact of circumstance making some additional info I can burn a little more self-imposed word-count on. Look, when one's spent some 8,000+ words on an ambient artist's discography, the talking points run thin.

Seriously though, there is something a little more unique going on with this album compared to most others I've heard from Ms. Bourdin. While her choice in synth pads has remained consistent throughout, this one makes more use of voice synths and choir pads, bringing to fore the New Age aspects of her muse. Yeah, it's not that significant a difference, overall, but when stacked against Lucette's discography, it stands out. Just don't go expecting some artistically challenging conceptual art-house production. Like, if Tim Hecker released an album called A Thousand Voices, you bet your bottom dollar he'd literally use one thousand sampled and recorded voices in crafting an impenetrable wall-of-sound ambient drone opus lauded by music journalists who don't listen to much ambient in the first place as revolutionary. Or something. Nah, dawg, Lucette plays things simpler and direct, yo'.

As for what we get here, it's a straight-forward affair of ambient drone pieces. While the choir pads are heavily featured in a number of tracks, not every one contains them. Alien Prayer relies more on airy synths and a bit of sliding electric fuzz, I s'pose imparting a sci-fi feel to the piece. Strange Landscape has a subtle rhythmic bassline with delicate bell tones and acoustic guitar accompanying its synth leads, bridging that gap into the realms of ambient techno Lucette's flirted with on occasion. Closing track Once Upon A Time more heavily features piano over choir pads, lending the piece to modern classical opulence.

What really caught my eye (and ear, I guess), is In My Room, apparently a homage to The Beach Boys. I honestly have a hard time hearing whether this is a direct cover, what with it being over nine minutes long of choir pads. If it is more or less reinterpreting that classic little song's chord progression though, pretty darn cool, I say.

Lucette Bourdin - Stories From The City

Dark Duck Records/Fantasy Enhancing: 2007/2021

Enough of these cosmic adventures, time to get back home, within the warm embrace of concrete towers, endless glow of street lights, and soothing sounds of sheering steel and burning rubber. What, you don't have all that in your city? Pft, then you haven't truly experience proper urban living. There's nothing like wandering one block, the subtle scent of cherry blossom trees wafting in the air, turning a corner, and receiving the odorous whiplash of street-dweller piss. Haha, just kidding. It's actually the mix of plastic and feces coming from a construction site porta-potty you'll come into contact with, at least in the Vancouver neighbourhoods I roam.

Anyhow, another month, another Lucette Bourdin album. This is one of her earlier albums, her second on Dark Duck Records. It also appears to be another one that uses the original artwork as found on the CD release of this, which leaves me wondering how many others I may have missed after all. Don't get me wrong, some are clearly unique between original and Retrospective Box Set (2005 – 2017). It just seems like I've been on a run where that's not the case anymore. Maybe it's just something unique to the 'S' titled albums? Guess we'll find out whenever I get to the few remaining offerings following this one.

Stories From The City is a simple enough concept, capturing moods and tones I'm sure Lucette felt inspired by when travelling abroad within larger metropolitan areas. Thing is, I didn't really get that sense while playing the album. It's the lack of field recordings. I'm so inundated with ambient artists including all manner of urban street sounds that I just naturally assume any composition drawing influence from such settings will have them in abundance, even if ever-so subtly playing them in the background. I'm seventeen CDs deep into her discography now, and if there's one thing I've noticed Ms. Bourdin seldom utilized, it's field recordings. It's just not her lane. Even when it would totally fit the theme of a particular piece, it's used sparingly (seriously, so few caws in Raven's Dream ...just, so few...)

So we have opener Night Sun, a suitably moody little drone piece that gradually ebbs into something more tranquil and charming, plus an additional effect of stuttering sounds in the background. It's a nice piece of evolving ambient, rather typical of Lucette's sound to this point, but does it impart a feeling of being in the city? Not particularly, no. Like, I could imagine some urban-scape visuals or art supporting the dronier pieces like High Noon or City Interlude, but just about any imagery could when it comes to ambient as artfully abstract as Ms. Bourdin's goes.

Don't take this to mean I'm coming away from Stories From The City disappointed or anything. Lucette had found her ambient groove by this point, and this is another pleasant outing of lovely moods and tones. As I said though, at seventeen CDs deep, that's just my base expectation from her now.

Lucette Bourdin - Soaring Above The Thunder

Fantasy Enhancing: 2005/2021

I was afraid this would happen. Really, it's my fault, what with my arbitrary alphabetical queuing of albums. If I approached things normally, in chronological order, I'd hear Ms. Bourdin's natural progression as a musician over time. Instead, I've jumped all over the place, and as such have heard her muse in various states of evolution. I'll admit her general tone and style seemed to be mostly formed early on, material on Oceanic Spaces and Raven's Dream sounding almost as good as pieces from Breath Of Grace and her Nordic Waves series. And hey, maybe that would also be the case when I finally got around to her actual first album, Soaring Above The Thunder. There was always this niggling suspicion, however, that it would be more typical of a 'first album' from an artist. A little amateurish and rough around the edges, said artist still in their feeling-out process despite confident enough to release something out into the wider world.

And, well, that's basically what I hear with Soaring Above The Thunder. It's not bad or anything, indeed still competently performed ambient music. It just doesn't sound like Lucette had really explored her synths yet, relying on whatever was already available in their sound libraries, then playing them in a functional manner. It's the sort of music I'd probably perform if I was just starting out too.

What stands out most to me is how punctual her synths sound, particularly on pieces like Prelude, Cloud Drones, Metallic Skies and Return. If there's any definitive style I could place upon Ms. Bourdin, it's her subtle layering of pads and drones, such that her music has a graceful flow among its harmonic elements. Obviously this wasn't always the case, but whenever she was at her best, that was the attribute that stood out the most. On Soaring Above The Thunder though, such attributes are noticeably absent, lending her synth work to more of an old school '80s vibe, when layering synth pads was in a more primitive state (if even achievable at all).

Still, a couple pieces hint at roads where Lucette would soon explore with greater results. Winds Across The Fields is almost pure minimalist drone, even if some of the 'wind effects' come off a little clunky. Despite also being comparatively jagged, Sundrops (Interlude) does offer a gentleness heard in many pieces of her discography. Elsewhere, the titular track and Showers brings some rhythmic elements to Ms. Bourdin's repertoire, showing she wasn't just an 'all ambient, all the time' artist right out the gate.

So yeah, a bit of a disappointment this one, but like I said, I've only my own expectations to blame. Had I started this Retrospective Box Set (2005 – 2017) from here, rather than jumping all over the place, I'd probably have a better first impression of it. Then again, what if I'd discovered Lucette somewhere around her Ancient Memories period regardless, digging into her back catalogue from there? Would impressions have been the same?

Lucette Bourdin - Silver Moon

Earth Mantra/Fantasy Enhancing: 2009/2021

Twenty CDs may seem like a thorough amount of albums for a retrospective box-set, but truth be told, this only touches upon one aspect of Lucette's discography. Well, maybe one and a half, if you include all the early, self-released stuff too. But yes, this collection of Ms. Bourdin's music primarily focuses on her output on Dark Duck Records, when she in fact had two labels supporting her, the other being Earth Mantra.

I'm not sure why those albums weren't included with this box-set – some sort of licensing hurdle, perhaps? Or could they just not be *gasp* as good as her other material, thus getting cut to keep this box-set a simple twenty CDs long? Guess I could find out for myself by checking out those Earth Mantra albums (I like the artwork of Golden Sun!) but, eh, I've taken in so much of Lucette's ambient (just... so very much), I will need a little break n' buffer after I've finished off this current collection.

Anyhow, I bring all this up because, according to Lord Discogs, Silver Moon is the lone Earth Mantra release to find its way into Retrospective Box Set (2005 – 2017). Again, I'm not sure why this is so. Fair point that some of those Earth Mantra albums were collaborations with Darrell Burgan, but others like Rumors From Cypress Town or Radiant Stars or Seeking Ganesha or Timeless Shore or Horse Heaven... were these not worthy? Ergh, I'm probably focusing way to much on something that's likely just a coincidence of circumstance. Let's get back to Silver Moon, one of my favourite Kitaro pieces- erm, I mean, the album I'm supposed to be reviewing. (seriously though, Kitaro's Silver Moon is such a lovely outing of haunting New Age ambience)

Almost immediately, I'm struck with a slightly different vibe than I'm used to from Lucette's typical brand of gentle, flowing ambient drone. For sure the synth pads still glide and weave along, but there's more of a mysterious feel to Now The Moon, less prominence on harmonic layers of timbre. Gosh, there's even choir pads, emerging from the winds of an approaching night. If that wasn't enough to send a bit of a chill down the spine, some pieces towards the end, like From The Shadowy Cote, With Silver Claws, Moveless Fish, and In A Silver Stream, edge remarkably close to the domains of dark ambient. Even a piece like Walks In Night, while more grand than most of this album, has an omnipresent ominous atmosphere about it.

For sure there's a few tracks that touch upon Ms. Bourdin's more New Age approach to ambient drone. She Peers And Sees features harmonic strokes while gentle woodblocks plonk in rhythmic fashion, while Silver Trees does that lovely ebb and flow drone some of her best works entailed. Guess I just wasn't quite prepared to hear an album of 'Lucette Goes Goth', but then every ambient artist likes getting in touch with their darkside at some point.

Skua Atlantic - Silfra Diving

Fantasy Enhancing: 2021

I can't say I was hotly anticipating this album from Skua Atlantic because, well, I wasn't expecting it to happen at all. Don't get me wrong, I was tickled pink when I heard a follow-up to Atlantic Fusion was seeing the light of day, but you'll forgive me for thinking such a thing wouldn't happen. Despite the first pairing between Mick Chillage and Futuregrapher being a solid outing of retro-electro ambient techno, I don't recall there being a ton of hype for it, seemingly flying by the night as it appeared on Databloem. It simply didn't make a big deal about being a pairing between two of that scenes more prominent names. A one-off pairing then, the two going back to their solo projects after and booking time for whenever they get to work with Lee Norris again.

Two years later though (and during the height of global lock-downs, presumably), the two reconvened for another session of Skua Atlantic sounds, Silfra Diving coming out two years ago now (save a couple months). And now I'm reviewing it two years later, almost two years after (save a couple days!) I reviewed their first album. Which means Mick and Árni are possibly working and set to release a third Skua Atlantic album sometime soon, which I'll be reviewing in two years from now. Okay, probably not, but man, wouldn't that be hilarious if so?

Anyhow, the immediate thing I noticed about Silfra Diving is just how much more brittle it sounds, leaning even further into the electro aesthetic compared to the duo's debut. Granted, Atlantic Fusion had something of a soft Balearic vibe going for it, what with ample samples of crashing waves and flying seagulls, but greater emphasis on synth pads and melodies dominated that album too. Also, it was mastered by Aes Dana, which means given the always unbeatable Ultimae Mixdown™. Far as I can tell, Silfra Diving's mastering was handled by Árni, which is fine for the chill electro on hand, but simply can't compete with Vincent's lush, widescreen sonics.

That also means some of the more atonal leads this brand of electro likes is more prominent, which you can hear right from the jump in opener Reykjavik Dublin First Transmission. For sure there are still nice backing pads complimenting these tracks, but it's clear the machines have taken over for this outing of Skua Atlantic, some portions getting downright Berlin-School experimental in their execution.

I guess it's no surprise I prefer this album when it gets into some brisk, crisp electro rhythms with icy-cool synths and retro-future atmosphere. Where Cities Once Stood, Virtual Temples, and Kaffi Vinyl all hit upon such vibes, but just as much time is spent on pieces on the downbeat, often subtle, moody excursions more interested in abstract bleeps and bloops. They're fine for what they are, it's just when stacked against what was heard on Atlantic Fusion, I can't help but come away left a tad wanting. Silly unexpected expectations.

Lucette Bourdin - Rising Fog

Dark Duck Records/Fantasy Enhancing: 2007/2021

I keep wondering which album of Lucette's was her proper breakout – or at least, as much of a breakout as an ambient artist could hope to have in such an overstuffed scene. By my best guess, it's this one right here, for a few reasons. One, it was her first released on any sort of label, in this case Dark Duck Records. Nothing like a little extra promotion in getting one's name out there. Second, when Stephen Philips started remixing her albums after Lucette's passing, this was the first one he did. Maybe that's more just a coincidence of catalogue sequence though. Same I guess could be said for the first Retrospective that appeared back in 2014, that collection of Lucette pieces opening with Rising Fog's opener, Crack Of Dawn.

Not sure why that one was selected over the titular track from this album though, Rising Fog a clear highlight in Ms. Bourdin's early discography. Is it because of the length? Sixteen-plus minutes is a long one, though not that long compared to some of the behemoth pieces Lucette was crafting in previous, self-released albums. And if space is an issue for your CD, you could just edit it down a little, like some other tracks were for Retrospective.

Why would you want to though? Rising Fog is just about as perfect an example of the meditative, soothing nature of ambient music, simple drones that endlessly glide along, all the while you wait for a return to a moving harmonic portion that seemingly lifts your very soul, like the unveiling of a valley from a dark, damp, low-hanging cloud. Ambient music where you don't even notice the passing of time as it plays, and would be quite content in hearing it carry on for an hour. Yeah, some of her previous works could tap into that wellspring just as effectively, but if the piece Rising Fog was most folks' (re: ambient connoisseurs) introduction to her, it's small wonder her profile grew after.

There's other tracks on this album though, seven in total. The aforementioned Crack Of Dawn reminds me of that Ave Marie animation sequence at the end of Disney's Fantasia, like I'm wandering through a forest with overhanging trees shaped like a cathedral. Autumn Light too, and maybe a bit of Russian Snow as well, though even more angelic with its gentle pads, tickling your ears with their satin tones. Elsewhere, A Sunny Afternoon is surprisingly deep and dubby in its synth drone, when you'd think a title like that would offer something brighter.

The final two get into ambient music with a bit of a rhythmic pulse to them, so maybe not true blue ambient? Berlin-School, I guess, without the sonic weirdness that genres sometimes indulges in, though we're threading needles again here. Either way, they're nice cappers on Rising Fog, an album that, yes, I'd say is worth a 'break-out' status, if such an album can be designated as such for Lucette.

Lucette Bourdin - Raven's Dream

Fantasy Enhancing: 2006/2021

We're still in 'early works' era of Ms. Bourdin with this one, Raven's Dream her third released album. Almost immediately, my 'New Age' triggers are flaring, that title the sort of thing you'd expect to be accompanied with some Arizona Native chants or Peruvian pan-flutes. And raven caws, plenty of raven caws, echoing across Grand Canyon walls, invoking images of flaming red sunsets against desert skies. Okay, I'm mostly just detailing the original cover art Lucette painted for this album, but the point stands. Naturalistic settings of ancient times is a tried and true New Age concept, and while Ms. Bourdin's brand of ambient has generally kept things on this side of the Great Eno Divide, it wouldn't take much for things to switch into saccharine either.

Opener Raven's Heart certainly makes a case for this, um, being the case. The synths are rather flowy and melancholy, less the abstract sonic padding much of Lucette's ambient has offered me thus far. There's also a lightly echoing thud in the distance, putting quite the fine point on this being the sound of a beating heart. Again, not out-and-out New Age music, though adding some typical field recordings like crickets or babbling brooks would seal the deal.

Raven's Heart is quite short, only three and a half minutes, and we're off into more familiar Lucette Bourdin territory on follow-up Airborne. Synth pads that gently weave and caress your cochlea, letting your headspace just drift above, a bit of a subdued rhythmic pulse underneath lending the piece to the realms of dub. With fourteen minutes of sonic space to just let the track play as needed, yeah, this is the vibe I've come to appreciate most from Ms. Bourdin.

Then River Song snaps us back to New Age territory, with overt, bright synths, piano and... oh, yep there it is, the field recordings I suspected would be heard. I mean, it's still a pleasant little number, just quite obvious in its presentation is all. Still, no word from the titular raven. I'm kinda' surprised we haven't heard a single caw yet.

The last two tracks are of the twenty minute-plus variety, the final one getting quite close to the thirty minute mark (still not Lucette's longest track though). Forest Lullaby does feature crickets, though the sound seems manipulated, sampled, digitized, and coerced into a steady rhythm of its own. The rest is mostly synth ambience played in a rather loose, free style, more about melodic journey than sonic wallpaper. Oh, and some random bird chatter too, but still no raven caw. Dammit, when are we gonna' hear a raven caw?

Two minutes into that last track, for the record - as it's also the titular track, I sure hope so! All kidding aside, this is another lovely, if lengthy, slice of gentle ambient music, the raven only making a sporadic cameo. Good thing too, because my Gods, have you heard how their ornery cousins, the crows, go on? I sure have.

Lucette Bourdin - Oceanic Space

Dark Duck Recordings/Fantasy Enhancing: 2006/2021

We're not quite done with Ms. Bourdin just yet. I mean, obviously not, since I'm only half-way through a twenty CD box-set, but in this recent clutch of reviews, she's taken up quite the bundle of them, the sixth out of the last ten. Fret not, folks, for this will be it for a while now, at least until we hit the 'R's ...I think. To be honest, I keep forgetting just how many there are. Seems every time I figure there's a gap, *boop*, suddenly, another Lucette album.

That certainly happened here, Oceanic Space. To be fair, it is something of a 'blink and you'll miss it' outing. There's only three tracks, making it Ms. Bourdin's shortest album in that regard. However, they're lo-o-ong tracks, Space taking up over twenty-five minutes of your time, and Ocean a whopping twenty-eight and a half minutes. Opener The Beginning, by comparison, runs a 'brisk' nine minutes, and believe me, does it breeze on by. How weird that our sense of passing time can do that, eh?

But hey, just because some ambient music pushes the half-hour mark doesn't mean nothing happens. Plenty of sonic twists and turns can occur in such an excursion, right? Sure, if that's the sort of ambient you're composing for said piece. As should be abundantly clear by now though, Lucette generally engages with the more meditative, droning sort of ambient. And while I've heard her take some interesting paths in such lengthy compositions, those have mostly come from later albums, wherein she's had time to hone her musical craft. According to the order of which these CDs come in her retrospective box-set, Oceanic Space is her second LP, and, well, you can kinda' hear it too.

The Beginning is a nice enough opener, spacey synths gliding along sine waves in such a manner that treads the line between classic ambient and New Age music. There definitely is a bit of the ol' Fax+ vibe to this one, so maybe that association germinated with fans of Namlook's label started much earlier than I suspected. And again, I'm surprised that, despite its nine-minute run-time, it seemingly plays out in quick fashion. Maybe my brain just wanted it to go on for longer. The fade-out certainly hints at something more on the horizon, subtly tugged away just as you're getting warmed to it.

Space gently sets off with tranquil pad work, gradually layering more tones as the piece progresses. Once the elements are all in play, however, it doesn't really go anywhere, Lucette content in letting things play out as her muse sees fit. Again-again, this would be fine for a shorter piece – say, a dozen minutes or so – but at nearly half an hour, tends to slip into background noodling for its own sake. Same goes for Ocean, an even subtler piece in its use in harmonic tones. It's fine for ambient of this nature, but doesn't do much to stand out from an overcrowded field either.

Lucette Bourdin - Nordic Waves Vol. 4: Autumn

Dark Duck Records/Fantasy Enhancing: 2012/2021

Seriously now, is there any season more pointless to The North than autumn? Yeah, I get that not all of the Nordic regions are True North, the good ol' Atlantic Gulf Stream providing temperate climates to latitudes not typically suited for it. But indulge me here a moment (as if you're not already doing so by reading my thoughts about music on a blog): what do you typically think of when it comes to fall?

The cooling temperatures, the changing colour of leaves, the shedding of said leaves, the harvesting of fruits and vegetables before the big freeze, and all that, right? None of which is applicable to tundra, and barely so even in taiga! Like, that temperature change is pretty abrupt, going from summer to winter almost in an instant. And those mosses and lichens sure ain't gonna' do anything fancy in the back end of the calendar year, no sir, much less in need of harvesting. Migratory animals are about the only thing I can think of associating autumn with The North.

Not that Lucette was unable to conjure up some music feeding off traditional imagery of fall in temperate clime's. I just think it would have made for an interesting, and even hilarious, bit of thematic consistency to make Nordic Waves Vol. 4: Autumn basically an EP. Y'know, a short excursion for a season that doesn't have much impact in the region as we know it. Heck, maybe even do the same for Vol. 2: Spring. And while we're at it, make Vol. 1: Winter a double-LP! Vol. 2: Summer can stay a standard album length though. We don't need anymore non-setting sunlight than we already have around the Arctic Circle.

Actually, I need to backtrack that a bit. After listening through Nordic Waves Vol. 4: Autumn, I'm not so sure Lucette was able to find much inspiration from the Phantom Season. Yeah, there's titles like Caramel-Colored Trees, The Smell Of Fallen Leaves, and First Frost, but I don't get the same sense of sonic imagery with the music on hand as with the previous volumes. Don't get me wrong, this is still a very lovely collection of moody, atmospheric ambient drone, but I feel like these pieces could have almost anything associated with them and sound just as fine. Heck, maybe even go the extra, classic-ambient step of pure abstraction, no need for a season's themes.

Take Shower Of Stars, a piece of shimmering synths and gliding pads. Beautiful, yes. Invoking autumn, not really. Or Pale Sun, as moody an ambient composition as we've yet heard in this series, but again, no feelings of fall coming to mind with it.

It's a funny one, this final entrant in Ms. Bourdin's Nordic Waves series. Musically, I actually kinda' like it the most, even if it almost have nothing to do with the season it's supposed to be inspired by. Maybe it needed to go spookier, tap into that Halloween vibe. Can't think about autumn without that day.

Lucette Bourdin - Nordic Waves Vol. 3: Summer

Dark Duck Records/Fantasy Enhancing: 2012/2021

Isn't it funny how when we think of Nordic clime's, we never think about the summer months? Heck, any Far North region for that matter. Our perpetual image of the world above the 60th Parallel is always one of ice and cold, and fair enough, it's that even when the sun hangs over the sky for over twenty hours a day (note: may no longer be valid in the near future from whence this was written).

But in terms of inspiration, it's the frigid winter months that get the most nods. Whether the melancholic reflection one does when wanting to hibernate, or challenging one's sense of self against inhospitable dark ambient tundra desolation, it's the long dark that gets the most rep'. Heck, even Ms. Bourdin wasn't immune to it, kicking off her Nordic Waves series with Winter. Summer, for all intents, gets the shaft in this regard, despite 'lasting' just as long as winter.

And well it should, as summer that far north actually kinda' sucks. Maybe not as much in Nordic regions, since they do benefit from some good propah' summer weather thanks to the Atlantic Gulf Stream, but that eternal sunshine, man. Just... never going away. It sets, but it's still light out, twilight lingering well past midnight. How can one get a good, recharging sleep when the sun wont set? Yeah, the winter may be bitter cold and dark, but at least you can sleep it off, recoup for another day. Folks have known to go crazy over summer insomnia, yo'!

Let's not dwell on that (for now...). Instead, Lucette opens Nordic Waves Vol. 3: Summer with Reindeer Frolic, a relatively light, airy piece of classical ambient with dancing electronics and glistening synth tones. It honestly feels more... wintery? Sorry, I just have a hard time picturing reindeer under a hot summer sun. Follow-up Midsummer Bonfire does a little dance with its shimmery, pulsing synths, which I suppose captures the essence of flickering flames nicely, but I dunno'. Ms. Bourdin's typical choice of synths have long had something of a cool, icy sheen to them, and that doesn't change much here either. I'm just not feeling Summer out of these tracks. Even Undulating Grasses, another fine pieces of 'dancing ambient', has me thinking springtime awakening over anything hot and humid.

As I said though, the idea of 'summer' in the far north has always been a little skewy, and perhaps that's the vibe Lucette felt as well. Light Waves, Twilight, and especially Heat Stroke mostly do the contemplative ambient drone tone thing, the latter of which stretching for nearly a dozen minutes in length. Even The Engine Of Nature, comparatively light-hearted with some piano, guitar, and percussion action, can't help but contain an ominous synth drone in support. It's almost as if Lucette can't wait for summer to be done. And as if to sell that perspective, final track August Buzz sounding positively uplifting and hopeful in its ambient tones. Yay, the season's almost done!

Lucette Bourdin - Nordic Waves Vol. 2: Spring

Dark Duck Records/Fantasy Enhancing: 2012/2021

Anyone else feel weird about seeing spring sitting at the second position of a seasonal series? I get why it's Vol. 2 of Ms. Bourdin's Nordic Waves run of albums, what with the whole thing kicking off on Winter and all. Spring had to follow, because spring always follows winter. Okay, maybe not on a planet like Venus, where its rotation is in reverse, so I guess winter would follow spring there. That's not a good example though, Venus' whole seasonal deal about as messed up as any planet can get – even the rolling ice giant Uranus has regular seasons, extreme though they may be.

Anyhow, what I'm getting at is we just assume spring would be the kick-off for any conceptual seasonal series, because of astrology or something. I find it rather nifty and, dare I say, daring, for Lucette to buck convention like this and shuffle spring over onto Vol. 2 of Nordic Waves. Take that, attention hog Aries!

Vol. 1: Winter ended on something of an upbeat tick, the subtly percolating synths of The One Hundredth Name Of Snow hinting at a world stirring from hibernation. Well, Vol. 2: Spring doesn't waste time in letting you know life is back to its busy, shining self, opener Return Of The Snow Goose all bright, shining synths harking more to the realms of modern classical synth composers than the usual Lucette ambient fare. Oh, and honking geese fly above on occasion, because that's just what I needed: reminders of the Canadian Cobra Chicken. I thought this was relaxing music!

You know what else spring is known for? Showers! ...or unrelenting rain, if you're in coastal regions like Norway and British Columbia. Nice of Ms. Bourdin to craft a track titled as such, though this one is a bit melancholic with its use of violin. Compared to the general moodiness of follow-up Anvil-Head Cloud, however, Unrelenting Rain is downright chipper. And speaking of geography shared by the Nordic regions and the Pacific Northwest, here's the gentle ambience and mysterious tones of Fjords, followed upon by more tranquility and subtle rhythms of Where The Forest Meets The Shoreline. We certain this hasn't turned into a Silent Season outing now?

That's all well and good if you're down for the fjord-pjorn (*cough*), but how about some propah' spring-time sonics? Lucette does spend some tracks bringing us from the ebb of March into the dawn of April, A Month-Long Sunrise doing that ambient drone thing of tones ever morphing into brighter timbre. Crossing The Equinox, meanwhile, gets more on that classic synth vibe, with rhythmic pulses and even pitch shifts. And what spring season is complete without the flooding of alpine meltwater, as captured by White Water – Calm Water, as peppy a tune as we've yet heard out of these Nordic Waves sessions? Not sure how The March Of The Trolls fits in with everything though. Probably Norwegian folklore, such critters forced into retreat from the increased sunlight, lest they turn to stone?

Lucette Bourdin - Nordic Waves Vol. 1: Winter

Dark Duck Records/Fantasy Enhancing: 2011/2021

Now we're getting deep into Lucette's discography, as there's nothing like a seasonal series to inflate one's catalogue. That's right, folks, you're looking at the start of a full week of Ms. Bourdin's works, so if all this box-set Retrospective coverage hasn't yet grabbed you... um, maybe stick around anyway? Who knows, maybe these will be the ones that finally hook the stragglers in!

Nordic Waves came about late in Lucette's musical timeline, which isn't surprising as most artists get more conceptual as their career caries on. Not that her music wasn't conceptual in the first place, in that most ambient music is all about the artistic concept of wallpaper music to begin with. If anything, focusing on a highly specific theme like the seasons of a particular region of the world substantially narrows the genre's potential abstraction. As for why the French lass would find inspiration with Scandinavian clime's, I honestly don't know. Maybe she had a childhood summer home there?

Winter is as appropriate a jumping-on point for this series as any, since one can't help but think of cold, snowy months when thinking of Nordic regions. Never mind that thanks to temperate waters coming off the Atlantic Gulf Stream, those coastal shores aren't nearly as frigid as most other areas along the same latitudes. You think The North, you think dark vistas with aurora borealis shining in night skies, their ethereal glow glimmering off snow and ice as tiny enclaves of warm lights huddle in remote clusters. At least, that's the imagery that paints in my head as opener Echoes Of The Wind plays. It's a mostly simple bit of ambient drone, but the way the synth pads glide along can't help but conjure images of Northern Lights dancing above.

Ocean Swells offers more of a leading melody within its pad layers, while Moonlight On Ice brings things down to more minimalist drone, melody subtle and gentle, as though the world is locked in content hibernation. Not to be outdone, Hibernation maintains such mood, while including softly ebbing windy synths, the track very much breathing you into a tranquil slumber as the outside world remains locked in ice. Meanwhile, fourteen minute closer The One Hundredth Name Of Snow actually perks things up a little, hinting at the coming warmth stirring everything awake once more.

The track that really caught my attention, though, was the comparatively shorter Shimmering Sky. Is it just me, or are those synth straight out of vintage Pete Namlook's wheelhouse? I've long wondered why Fantasy Enhancing was so hype in giving Lucette Bourdin a boxset restrospective, especially when there are so many (just... so many) other ambient artists out there who could have their own boxsets. And now I can't help but suspect this was one of the tracks that clued the Fax+ fan community into her sound, thus giving her a slight insiders-edge on everyone else. Or maybe it's just a big ol' coincidence. Stupid brain, making connections where there are none.

Lucette Bourdin - The Mystery Of The Midnight Sun

Fantasy Enhancing: 2006/2021

Oh, did y'all forget I still have a whole box-set of Lucette Bourdin? It's certainly been a spell since I last covered anything from Retrospective Box Set (2005 – 2017). Glimpses, Vol. 1 was back in May, but that's technically a remix album from Stephen Philips. No, we have to go all the way back to March, the double-feature of Drum-atic Atmospheres and Drum Repercussions, for some actual Lucette originals covered on this here blog. That's literally two seasons ago! (note: ignore the too-warm October I'm currently sitting through – it's supposed to be Autumn, not Fire-Season August)

Considering I started covering this collection almost a year ago, it's been slow going getting through all twenty CDs, to say the least. Don't worry though, I'll be doubling that coverage in short order, starting with this here Mystery Of The Midnight Sun. Ooh, that's something of a foreshadow, isn't it? Like, what region of the world could even have a midnight sun?

This is one of Lucette's earlier albums, before her breakout of... Erm, I'm not sure she really had a breakout, per se. At least, not in a traditional music industry fashion. I just assume Rising Fog is something of the sort, given it got the remix album treatment and all. Regardless, this one came out before, thus making it the earliest album of hers I've covered yet. Not the earliest though, there's still some in her discography from way-er back.

Before we can uncover the enigma of a Sol sighting in the twilight hours, we must take a Voyage Beyond The Five Planets. Wait, only five? Well, yeah, if you're only going by what's typically observable in the night sky. For much of human history, we've only known of five planets, the very concept of Earth being a 'wanderer' completely alien to the masses. Plus, it wasn't until precise astronomic study of orbital mechanics that the notion of more existing beyond our basic sight was even conceived. In a nutshell, Ms. Bourdin is conjuring thoughts and sentiments of venturing beyond that which we can observe, and for a tranquil piece of ambient synth pad and timbre such as this, it's a fitting mood.

By comparison, the titular follow-up is surprisingly short and almost desolate, though not without its own tranquility too – it really can't be helped with ambient drone of this nature. My Life With Bach gets quirkier with a burbly synth rhythm, playing about with higher-pitched synth tones like intertwined rope chords. There is something of a Baroque feel to it, the sort of piece you could easily imagine being performed just as easily on a grand organ.

The Mystery Of The Midnight Sun closes out with a twenty-six minute long drone 'n' reverb piece, Dream Traveler, synths sliding along flowing pads in a lucid fashion. I thought this was the longest Lucette composition I'd yet heard, but no, that still goes to the near thirty-minute long Memories Of Acoma. Ancient Memories indeed.

Lucette Bourdin - Glimpses, Vol. 1

Dark Duck Records/Fantasy Enhancing: 2017/2021

A couple Lucette albums were released after her passing, but so shortly after, they were likely already in her vaults (such as they were), just needing a little extra attention. This one though, came much later, half a decade later in fact. Was there some yet undiscovered trove of music from Ms. Bourdin out there, that took so long to be unearthed? Mm, not really, no, at least no more so than any of her works remained relatively obscure. Rather, this is a 'remix' album of Rising Fog, handled by Dark Duck Records regular (head honcho?) Stephen Philips. Fair enough, but seems a little odd to include it within a box-set of Lucette Bourdin's works. Was it included just to hit that magical twenty CDs cap? Guess it makes more sense than if they were to include the 2014 retrospective CD, Retrospective, in this Retrospective Box Set (2005-2017).

Still, if you didn't have your handy-dandy Discogs cheat sheet on hand (or are a hardcore Lucette Bourdin fan), you wouldn't know Glimpses, Vol. 1 was a remix album, at least not as presented here. Nothing on the CD's slip case mentions as such, no additional credit attributed to Mr. Philips, just the same track list as the Rising Fog CD. And yeah, if you listened to the whole box-set in one fell, chronological swoop, you may have noticed some similarities between the two, such that you'd make the assumed link without realizing the track lists were identical. Also, that'd be mighty impressive, making such a connection between CD6 and CD20, with that much droning ambient music in between!

Come to think of it, how does one remix droning ambient anyhow? No, I'm not talking about turning it into a trance track or a tech-house track or a darkcore nu-glitch complextrostep track. I mean, remixing ambient into ambient. Like, I know it's doable, otherwise I wouldn't have Glimpses, Vol. 1 in my hands, but it still strikes me as a dubious proposition. I've heard 'alternates' and 'versions' of ambient pieces, though usually composed by the same artist on their own work. Unless the internet has somehow pulled an unnecessarily strange hoax, I'm pretty certain Lucette Bourdin and Stephen Philips are different individuals.

It also means I had to interrupt my planned 'go into every CD in this box-set cold' for a basis of comparison between this and Rising Fog. Okay, that's not such a big deal. I'm honestly just kinda' dawdling at this point because there isn't much I have to say about Glimpses, Vol. 1. These tracks definitely are different compared to the originals, in that they feel more stretched, layered, and drone-tone as ambient music. The Rising Fog pieces were already rather mellow to begin with, but had some progression of melody among them. Stephen mostly strips that out, melody losing itself in dense layers of reverb and timbre. As ambient goes, it's all quite nice and relaxing, if a bit formless. The concept interests me more than the execution.

Ambidextrous - Fifty Years Of October

Fantasy Enhancing: 2021

Kind of weird to think of Fifty Years Of October is something of a capper on two decades of music making from Ambidextrous. Technically longer, but his 2001 album Erosion was the one that got a spiffy 20th anniversary vinyl re-issue, not 1998's Soundscape, so for all intents, I'll assume that's where Nick feels his music career properly starts. Still, my head has difficulty wrapping around that time span, since I only came into contact with Ambidextrous when he made his debut on Carpe Sonum Records (missing out on a CD copy of Geek Mythology notwithstanding, darn it all). Right, right, musicians have plenty of back catalogue existing long before a single Canadian discovers them, but even his Bandcamp is sparse on pre-2010 material. Not Soundscape though, that one's available.

Actually, I'm not entirely sure what Fifty Years Of October is all about. Previous albums from Ambidextrous had a clearer theme, mostly an interest in science stuff, so I assume that's the case with this one as well. Maybe something to do with topography or cartography? That certainly looks like a coastline on the cover-art, though where I haven't the foggiest. I kinda' want to assume the Russian Arctic, what with Nick being from Russia and all. I feel like having more insight into it would provide me with a better understanding of what theme runs through this album, as I struggle to find one. Or maybe there isn't any theme, Fifty Years Of October just a collection of tunes he happened to kick out for a follow-up to Echoes Of Science on Fantasy Enhancing.

Pros And Contras start things off, and it's familiar Ambidextrous vibes right from the jump. A mostly chill, dubby mood gently cruises along, synth and string pads casually guiding us while subtle acid burbles and charming leads spritely dance about. A pleasant number, as expected from Nick, but as mentioned, doesn't impart anything deeper than that upon this person. Follow-up Detour De Force initially goes a little more mechanical, then introduces a synth lead that has me thinking of some cheap '80s movie, its star wandering slummy streets in a sort of synthwave noir setting. Huh, can't say I was expecting that, especially with rhythms and effects that remain in ambient techno's lane.

Speaking of, Fozamo and Steamroller Maneuver definitely gets up on that vintage IDM business, while Bipolar Lights and Stellar Telegraph have themselves a bit of a classic Fax+ freak-out at their peaks. Come to think of it, I'm getting some sense of ol' school Spacetime Continuum out of this, which shouldn't be too surprising considering Ambidextrous' sound has always leaned a little retro. And while on the topic of sea biscuits, Fifty Years Of October closes out with Shell Life, all submerged ambient dub groove and floating soundscapes, with plenty of bleepy vibes throughout. A very relaxing way to take us out. Just wish I knew how it tied into the rest of the album, beyond existing for its own sake.

Aythar - ElectrOcean / Winter Walk

Fantasy Enhancing: 2018/2021

Yay, a new Aythar album! This was self-released as a digital item a few years ago, but we all knew a physical option would emerge at some point. I mean, if even Cosmic Resonance made its way to CD, this had to be a shoo-in. So who's it gonna' be, then? Carpe Sonum again? A return to ...txt? Maybe one of those new-fangled labels Lee Norris set up like Neotantra?

Ah, it's the 'prestige' print, Fantasy Enhancing, with the DVD package and the like. Wait, you're not doing that, instead including a second album? So, a double-LP then? Not a double-LP, then, Winter Walk an entirely different collection of music. It's not unprecedented a double-album will contain two conceptually different CDs, but usually still under the same title. Odd choice, but hey, two new Aythar albums!

So ElectOcean. After spending so much time among the stars, Tamás Károly Tamás set his sonic sights a little closer to Earth. Or maybe its a space sea, one made of highly-charged electric particles! It certainly sounds little like the bounding main on terra firma, unusually crisp and clean, as though the water is made out of '90s CGI technology (so shimmery and plastic). Fortunately, we get a twenty-four minute meditative opener to properly submerge into this oceanic realm, Underwater Relax all flowing synth tones and grand pianos echoing from the distant depths as you slowly descend in some sort of submersible (it's all those bubbling effects). I cannot deny starting the album with such a lengthy piece does cause one's attention to drift, but isn't that the point of music designed for relaxing anyway?

With a proper Dive Into The ElectOcean, we're treated to some dubbed-out ambient techno with whale song in support. A little cliche perhaps, but Aythar's skill at songcraft keeps it a captivating excursion regardless. Protoplasm utilizes more echo and reverb over dub, in such a manner that it feels like you're listening to this from within an open sea cavern, while Electrolyte and the titular cut brings the actual electro to these oceans. In an ambient techno sort of way. The only track that seems a bit out of place is Welcome To Our Fairy World, an overtly twee piece that has me imagining swimming around chibi mermaids and dolphins. Child-like wonder at coral reef palaces, and such as.

Winter Walk, meanwhile, is mostly a pure ambient drone album, lengthy pieces taking you on calming journeys. Light And Snow has you out in the wilderness, huddled close to a simmering fire, the sounds of nearby fauna echoing off dense trees as everything is covered in white. Melting Glaciers offers a soft, liquid rhythm, but is no less tranquil. Elegy For The Arctic goes even more classic ambient than Light And Snow, the Eno vibes strong, while the titular tune offers something a little more chipper over the general melancholy that permeates the album. Only Dark Snow brings something rhythm heavy, almost shocking in its use of crisp, echoing beats.