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.

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.

Lucette Bourdin - Drum-atic Atmospheres

Dark Duck Records/Fantasy Enhancing: 2009/2021

I feel stupid typing this, but I can't cop to y'all: I only just got what the pun in this album's title is. To be fair on my part, it's not like Lucette gave me any reason to expect a pun. Nothing in the bulk of her discography would lead me to believe she was a very punny lass. The Mystery Of The Midnight Sun, Timeless Shore, Soaring Above The Thunder, Raven's Dream, Horse Heaven... all relatively straight-forward titles, right? Even Drums And Repercussions is rather slight on the pun-o-meter. That isn't to say Ms. Bourdin didn't have a sense of humour or anything, just that, far as I can tell, it never reflected in her music. Or maybe she didn't have many opportunities to go there. After all, one of the tracks on here is called My Car Is Broken, I'll Walk.

With a title like Drum-atic Atmospheres, I should be expecting a bevy of crashing taiko drums, or twenty toms as performed by Neil Peart. I wasn't though, because that simply isn't what Lucette Bourdin's about. More honestly, I wasn't expecting it because I didn't clue in that the album's title should have me expecting something dramatic. I suppose Cathedram Jam is rather opulent, though more in a Tangerine Dream sort of way, the only heavy percussion coming in some two-thirds deep into an eleven minute long piece, and nothing anyone familiar with world beat loops wouldn't have heard. I was more surprised at hearing those burbly electronics at the start, triggering some Cowgirl from Underworld memories.

But nay, the album opens in rather tranquil, meditative form, Flight Through Infinite Stars less traversing the kosmiche grande, than lazily taking in the distant splendour. If that track doesn't impart feelings of calm and serenity, then The Dew Is On The Grass certainly will, if not in tone, then at least in title. The sweeping synth strings and angelic choirs sure feels like we're catching a little morning dawn piercing through velvet clouds though. Oh, and the most dramatic these drums get remain the soft pitter-patter of tribal rhythms.

Lucette gets a little fancy on the delay effects in the moody Last Small Spark, while Washing Day features jangly rhythms panning across the stereo spectrum while synth tones drone and static... fuzzes? More an experimental piece, that, but the aforementioned My Car Is Broke, I'll Walk certainly lives up the 'dramatic atmospheres' motif of the album's title, in an ol' school Vangelis sort of way. Grand piano reverb into the furthest reaches of the galaxy, yo'.

A few assorted experimental pieces follow, and Spanish Winds closes things out in another outing I can't help but draw Vangelis comparisons to. Whenever the Greek musician would get his drone-tone on at least, but with a little Mediterranean flair. Much of Drum-atic Atmospheres have me thinking of '70s synth wizards, come to think of it. Does this mean Ms. Bourdin was a time-travelling wizard, and heir of Merlin mayhaps? Mmm, no, wrong European lineage, methinks.

Lucette Bourdin - Drum Repercussions

Dark Duck Records/Fantasy Enhancing: 2009/2021

Wish I realized this sooner. Could have broken up these two Lucette Bourdin albums from each other, book-ending the two DnB Arena releases. How was I to know Drums And Repercussions would for some reason get retitled Drum Repercussions for this box-set? Actually, I technically knew it when I first ripped the CDs to my computer, and WMP retitled it to its proper name, hence why it slotted after Drum&Bass Arena 2019. That's kinda' remarkable, come to think of it, that WMP would even have such an obscure album already on file. Guess there has been over a decade for other souls to have done the deed. In any event, because the version I have is titled Drum Repercussions, I'm going with that, even if it has thrown my orderly alphabetical queue slightly askew. *eye twitches OCD'ily*

Anyhow, Drums And Repercussions came out in what was undoubtedly Lucette's most productive year, 2009. In fact, both of her 'drum' albums came out that year, though this one earlier than Drum-atic Atmospheres. It was only a few months prior that she had introduced any sort of rhythms into her ambient pieces, which I already covered with Colors, Shapes & Rhythms. I also felt those outings came off as something of a feeling-out process, Ms. Bourdin making use of acquired drum loop tools but doing little to utilize them as her own. There were hints of potential, for sure, but I'd need to hear some something a little more dynamic if I was to be won over.

Well, I can't say her beats are dynamic in Drum Repercussions, but they are better used, mostly instilling a tribal, meditative rhythm while synth drones carry on. Opener Jungle Steam certainly imparts a feeling of gently cruising down some old-growth realm of the tropics without falling into cliche, a sense of mystery and awe while ancient civilizations are revealed beneath dense foliage. Wish I could say follow-up Mile High Boogie maintained that vibe though, Lucette's choice of drum loop and odd tub-dub not really syncing well; still, lovely synth tones.

From there, we get a variety of soft ambient techno (Picnic By The Creek, And So It Goes, The River of Ghosts), New Agey tribal numbers (Hymn To The Rising Sun, Dancing With Bears, Follow Me Home), and Berlin-School opulence (Song Of Creation, Glowing In The Dark). And... gosh, for ten tracks, that's honestly a fair amount of diversity. I'll grant I've yet to take in even a quarter of Lucette's total output, but I feel safe claiming her wheel-house generally remains on the ambient spectrum.

Still, if Drums And Repercussions is any indicator, she was definitely feeling more confident as a musical artist at this point, willing to branch out and mostly succeeding in her efforts doing so. Yeah, there's still a couple tracks here that don't mesh as well as they could, but on the whole, Drum Repercussions is the strongest LP I've yet heard in this box-set. Only sixteen more to go!

Lucette Bourdin - Colors, Shapes & Rhythm

Fantasy Enhancing: 2007/2021

Well, this was unexpected. Not that I wasn't expecting it at some point – Lucette does, after all, have a couple albums with the word 'drum' in their titles. I just assumed her catalogue primarily consisted of artsy ambient music. Most of her publicity stills have her working in her art studio, y'see, surrounded by paint and canvases; doesn't really impart an image of a lass getting down to the funky jams. Even here, an album called Colors, Shapes & Rhythms, I somehow never clued in that there would be actual rhythms in it. My brain saw 'colors' and 'shapes', and immediately concluded that's all there was to it. Brains is sometimes real stupids.

Going by the chronology of Ms. Bourdin's album output, Colors, Shapes & Rhythms was the first time she implemented beats of any kind. And, um, it kinda' shows. The opening track, Round And Green, is more of a Berlin School approach to the craft, a simple, soft electronic rhythm burbling in the background as Lucette does some synth jamming over top. At twelve minutes though, the piece kind of drags, and I can't say I'm fond of her choice of synths here, their delayed tones muddying the layers of timbre as she plays along. Maybe if she switched the rhythms up some.

And so she does in follow-up Rhythm Cube, though it's hardly revolutionary stuff. Frankly, it seems like Lucette acquired a library of drum loops without quite knowing how to utilize them to their full potential. This track lines up disconnected loops one after the other, with little in the way of logical bridging. A distant, dub techno pulse eventually gives way to a standard hip-hop shuffle, followed by a lazy jazz jam, finishing off with tribal drumming. Carrying through it all is a rather atonal synth drone that while isn't bad, doesn't really mesh with the differing rhythms.

Two tracks deep, and I was ready to write Colors, Shapes & Rhythms off as one of Lucette's weaker outings, an artist simply exploring new tools. Then third track Oval Opal Vocal comes in with some lovely angelic choir pads and a soft, dubby rhythms like a gentle heartbeat, and oh my. I think she's figured it out, by g'ar! Well, maybe not quite, Res Stars Over Pyramid and Lumpy Blue Lines still rather clunky in their use of drum loops and synth doodling, though I think it may be the intent in the latter, if the title's anything to go by. Still, Polygons Of The Future is pretty cool in an ambient techno sort of way, and closer Square Prints On Black Sand's minimalism maintains a nicely mysterious atmosphere, even if it too drags some at over fourteen minutes.

Can't really claim Colors, Shapes & Rhythms is essential Bourdin though. Lord Discogs says it never got an official release on a label, so as mentioned, likely just a freeform, exploratory outing from Lucette. There's bound to be a couple of those in a twenty-CD box-set.

Lucette Bourdin - Breath Of Grace

Dark Duck Records/Fantasy Enhancing: 2012

Back to Bourdin, then. Huh, took a little longer than I thought it would. Like, a box-set with twenty CDs in it is gonna' take up hefty chunks of my alphabetical queue no matter where they're slotted, but I suppose it shows just how large the queue currently is regardless. Dealing with another box-set between Ancient Memories and this probably didn't help with the gap.

Breath Of Grace has the distinction of being the final album of Lucette's work, released well over a year after her passing. There's actually a number of such albums, including A View From Afar and the four-LP Nordic Waves set - yes, they're all accounted for in this box-set. While it's not surprising that she'd have some music in the vaults, I do wonder what the process in releasing the posthumous albums was. Were they already in the works, and just never got to see a proper release before passing on? Did someone within her estate cobble together assorted unreleased tracks on her behalf? I suppose it doesn't matter in the long run, but whenever we're dealing with ambient music of this sort, it's nice to have some inspirational frame of reference going in. Perhaps one need not delve too deeply into such concerns, but it cannot be denied her experiences offered a unique perspective on reflective music, tragic though it may be.

If there is a theme to Breath Of Grace, it's that of entering a calming state of mind. While opener Turbulent Seas maintains a typically droning style of ambient tone, it's far from a relaxing sort. Almost ominous with heavy, spacious synth swells, impossibly distant sounds echoing from the furthest reaches of one's memories. Always those nagging reflective moments, when gazing upon foggy coastlines through cottage windows.

Waters Of Life goes more minimalist, synth drone supporting burbly, dubby field recordings, letting you feel more lost in the moment rather than trapped in memory. Following that, the titular track is pure synth pad drone, layered to such a degree the timbre is rather muddy. Can't help but keep thinking of fog while listening to this. But hey, things seem to pick up a little with Quiet Cats, a lighter tone and brighter synths emerging from the haze. From there, tracks like Finding Peace and Setting Sun only grow brighter, the former even dipping rather close to the realm of New Age with its shimmering angel bells. The relatively short closer Remembering thus feels more like a coda to Breath Of Grace, having settled into some sense of tranquility despite whatever was troubling the self at the start. And hey, a little light Arabian synth noodling in the middle of it too.

I almost feel like I'm overselling this album, with such a expansive write-up of what goes on. Eh, gotta' burn word-count some way, but as far as ambient albums go, Breath Of Grace is a nice little offering of such. Will the rest of Lucette's works compare? Stay tuned...

Lucette Bourdin - Ancient Memories

Dark Duck Records/Fantasy Enhancing: 2008/2021

So I got a box of Bourdin.

And you may ask, who is Lucette Bourdin, such that she should have a multi-CD box-set of her music released? Despite having a sizable discography, her music didn't have much presence upon the ambient world. According to Lord Discogs, even her most 'popular' albums only have an average of twenty owners, and seldom branched beyond Earth Mantra and Dark Duck Records (itself a rather obscure print where Stephen Philips releases the bulk of his music). For all intents, it was Lucette's paintings that brought her the most attention, her music more an extension of that.

Someone down at Fantasy Enhancing must be a fan though (it's Lee, isn't it), hence a massive Retrospective Box Set (2005 – 2017) collection. I can't say I was initially interested in springing for it, but some Bandcamp deals came down the line, and I had some spare money to spend (Narrator: he didn't, he really didn't!). And as with that Harold Budd box-set, I'll be reviewing Every. Single. Album in this collection as they come up in my alphabetical queue, starting with this here Ancient Memories.

And now I'm at a bit of a loss in how to approach this. Yeah, Lucette is primarily an ambient composer, so there probably isn't going to be that much variation from album to album. There's gotta be some though, and would serve me well in hearing her development over the years if I'm going to review all of them. Still, listen to all twenty discs, just to get a base of comparison? Who's got time for that? Guess I'll just wing 'em as they come.

So, Ancient Memories. This is a four-track album, with three pieces hovering around the fifteen minute mark. The first, Memories Of The Oolites (the sedimentary rocks?), almost had me worrying I might be in for an abstract, experimental outing, the sort of blippy, droning sounds often associated with such. It soon settles into gentle ambience though, soft, velvety pads gliding along for much of duration, save an occasional return to the initial abstract sounds. Memories Of Chordata (the animal phylum?), however, goes darker and mysterious, almost a pure minimalist drone piece. There is just enough harmonic timbre in the subtle pad work though, keeping it just on this side of ambient music. Memories Of Fitzroya (the Andes Mountains conifer?) is almost atonal in its rhythmic minimalism, but in a nice, calming, meditative way. Quite reminds me of Hybrid Leisureland, or other Japanese ambient composers.

As for the closer Memories Of Acoma (the ancient Pueblo region?), this piece nearly breaches the thirty minute mark. While it certainly has many different passages throughout its runtime, it's primarily performed in such a minimalist, droning matter, much of it can simply pass by without much happening. There are occasional swells, distant echoing harmonies, even rhythmic pulses. Overall, a mysterious sounding piece that moves enough to keep you engaged should you continue paying attention, but doesn't insist upon itself either.