Ugasanie - Freedom And Loneliness

Cryo Chamber: 2020

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

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

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

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

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

In The Face Of - The Formless

self-released: 2024

(A Patreon Request)

Not also a 'skip the queue' one at that, but this requester, oh they're clever. Rather than have their item sit somewhere in alphabetical purgatory for who knows how long, they have me covering an album that slots damn near the front of the current queue. See, folks, there's always ways to manipulate established systems to your own favour! Or it could be just a massive coincidence the request coincided with my backlog's current status. Be one heck of one if so.

In The Face Of is David Miller, a rather new project for the chap, though how long he's been an active producer, I'm not sure. There isn't much info on him on his Bandcamp page, and good luck finding out which David Miller he is within Lord Discogs' tomes.

Pretty sure he's not the Scottish David Miller of FiniTribe, nor the classical theorbist David Miller. Guaranteed he's not the old-timey West Virginia guitarist David Miller (he dead), much less the label mogul David L. Miller (also dead). More alive is the country bassist David Miller out of Texas, also the Juilliard graduate classical viola player David Miller, but odds are In The Face Of isn't them. Hmm, there seems to be a running theme of David Millers at least being capable musicians with string instruments, so maybe this David Miller is too. But then there's a trumpeter David Miller, a hip-hop singer David Miller, and a 'pop-opera' tenor David Miller! How many David Millers do we have on this website anyhow? Thirteen... twenty-one...forty-four... sixty-one... seventy-four... eighty-three... My God...! I've fallen into a multiverse of David Millers!

What I do know about this particular David Miller is his influences for this debut album, specifically the industrial and dark ambient sonic experiments of Zoviet France and their offspring (Rapoon being my usual go-to). That's definitely in my wheel-house, forever fascinated by the sound collages invoking imagery of societal collapse, but it's a delicate balance. Under-production can leave it sounding hollow, while going too far the other way leads to noisy power electronics, a scene I really don't have much time or use for in my regular listening habits.

Fortunately, The Formless mostly hits that sweet middle-ground, where the overbearing presence of atonal drone never completely extinguishes whatever musical ideas Mr. Miller offers up. Don't get me wrong, closer Golden Dawn grinds things out with the best. Most tracks keep things on a more subtle tip though, where rhythms have room to march along, samples are clear even when warped, and the melancholic harmonies seep through the digital effects.

While each track is distinct and the album's overall tone is consistent, it's another one of those experimental drone outings that really isn't the easiest to detail. There's only so many ways I can type “industrial grit” or “dark ambient atmosphere” before it grows redundant, which kinda' defeats the purpose of an LP titled The Formless anyway. More of a 'vibes' session, as the yoot' might say.

Dead Melodies - Fabled Machines Of Old

Cryo Chamber: 2021

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tineidae - Exo

Cryo Chamber: 2020

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

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

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

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

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

Dronny Darko & Ugasanie - Dark Source Of The North

Cryo Chamber: 2022

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

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

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

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

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

Sphäre Sechs - Beta Pictoris

Cryo Chamber: 2021

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

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

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

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

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

ProtoU - Anomalies

Cryo Chamber: 2019

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

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

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

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

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

Ruptured World - Xenoplanetary

Cryo Chamber: 2023

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

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

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

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

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

ASC - Trans-Neptunian Objects 2

Auxiliary: 2018

James Clements taking his ambient explorations to the furthest reaches of our solar system? Hell, I'm sold! Let's follow that link to wherever the CD can be bought and it's already sold out. Okay, that's on me, rather tardy in getting 'round to nabbing a copy of Trans-Neptunian Objects. Ain't no way I'm missing out on a second edition of this concept series! Maybe I'll get fortunate though, and James will re-issue the first sometime down the line. Hey, he's been offering vinyl editions of his Silent Season albums this past year, so it could happen!

Anyhow, Trans-Neptunian Objects 2 doesn't waste any time letting you know the sort of outing you're in for. Opening track, Varuna (named after a Hindu deity; one of the more prominent bodies discovered in the early days of Kuiper Belt explorations) sounds appropriately desolate and remote, distantly echoing sounds skittering about as a deep space ambience settles in. Layers of drone build in intensity, bringing a sense of awe to the atmosphere, but we're still in the coldest reaches of our solar system, our sonic vista frigid and uninviting despite the subtle glisten of feeble sunlight upon icy bodies.

As if that wasn't enough, second track Huya (named after the rain god Juyá of the Wayuu people; has its own moon) is even more desolate, about as pure a piece of dark ambient drone as you're likely to hear this side of a Silent Universe outing. Deucalion (named after the son of Prometheus; part of the 'cold population') seems to start in similar fashion, but soon comes forth with a more prominent lead of melodic grandeur. It's still all presented in a dark ambient sort of way, the Kuiper Belt forever an uninviting place in Mr. Clements' view. Sometimes though, you have to sit back in your cryopod and respectably take in the impossible remoteness of your surroundings.

Which is just as well, since Typhon (named after one of Zeus' cosmic foes, possibly buried under Mt. Etna; is a binary 'centaur' object) is more melancholic compared to the preceding tracks. In fact, the layers of dubby drone James uses here reminds me more of ASC's Silent Season albums compared to the pure space drone I've heard thus far on Trans-Neptunian Objects 2. Same can be said for Varda (named after the queen of the Valar – that's Tolkien, folks; guess astronomers ran out of names from antiquity lore), but not so much the remaining two tracks.

The bleepy sounds of Mors-Somnus (named after twin Roman gods; likely a merged binary) had me initially thinking something from Fax+, but the ominous, eerie mood quickly brought it back to the realms of dark ambient. Rather cinematic, in fact, while Chaos (oh, c'mon! Naming any moving object in our solar system that is just asking for trouble) has a steady pulsing throb, the sort of rhythm I'd expect out of a Sabled Sun joint. And now I want ASC to somehow appear on Cryo Chamber.

Tomas Jirku - Touching The Sublime

Silent Season: 2020

Continuing my ever so slow backtrack through Silent Season's catalogue, it's time for the third-to-last item the label released before going into presumed mothballs. Look, it's just a weird coincidence things turned out this way - I guarantee my next reviews from this label won't be Night Sea's Still or Yuka's Moon Song. Although, I see no reason why not, both still available as digital downloads. For how much longer though? While Silent Season doesn't look to close shop anytime soon, the lack of recent activity is cause for some concern. I'd hate to pop over to their Bandcamp and suddenly find *Snap!*, as if it never were.

Anyhow, here's Tomas Jirku's Touching The Sublime, a rather unique item in the Silent Season canon, and I'm not just talking the music. No, this album has the distinction of having a photo book tie-in, which... actually makes a whole lot of sense. Think about it: what's one of this label's defining characteristics? The plethora of naturalist beauty shots, of course. Yeah, the music within has always been class, but what really sold the idea of said music coming from some mystical land of the Pacific Northwest was the steady stream of picturesque scenery adorning the cover art. And now here's a whole darn book of them! I was oh-so tempted in buying one, if the $100 price tag hadn't pushed it to the back-burner of my To Buy bin before they were all bought up. Oh well, guess I'll settle for the CD.

It's a hard one to peg down though. Mr. Jirku released a number of items throughout the '00s, but seemed to go relatively quiet on the music front in the following decade. Lord Discogs lists Touching The Sublime as his first album after a ten year gap, though a smattering of singles filled the space between, consisting of everything from microhouse to dub techno to glitch-fuzz. And while what he offers here definitely fits within Silent Season mould, there's a restrained opulence to his productions that places Touching The Sublime well outside their typical dub techno lane.

Seriously, The Iliad & The Odyssey and Pele & Surtr go full-on orchestral in portions, but as filtered through a submarine turbine. And gosh, are Idiis Mortii, Entropy8, and Hypoxia ever getting on some dark ambient drone action. Even the opener, A Warm Place, is all sorts of moody and foreboding, almost deadly silent before blasting you with a massive wave of atonal drone. If Touching The Sublime was that sort of album throughout, this could have gone down as one of Silent Season's most daring albums ever, especially when coupled with a lovely picture book. However, tracks like Tectonic Monument, Eyeless Through Space, and other portions of Pele & Surtr (at thirteen minutes, it's the longest track here – plenty of space to indulge) do get on some 'typical dub techno' breaded butter. Guess the rest was just a bit too much for the label's regulars to handle.

Silent Universe - Stellar Winds

Ignis Fatum: 2015

Pavel finally released a new Silent Universe album! Naturally, I'm currently reviewing his first Silent Universe album, released back in 2015. Because if there's anything you can count on with this blog, it's never being timely in covering new releases. Unless you apply some Theory Of Relativity science behind it, I guess.

Like, from a certain vantage point, Stellar Winds is actually brand-spankin' new, and is the only Silent Universe in existence! What vantage point, you ask? Erm, from the Sirius star system's vantage point, I guess. It's only 8.6 light years away, which is just a little further than the distance Stellar Winds would have travelled had it been broadcast in that direction upon its release date. That's either incredibly awesome or mind-meltingly daunting, depending on your stance. Given that we are dealing with a dark ambient album here, I'm gonna' go with the 'reduces one's sense of being to cosmic mush' option.

But yes, having spent the first half of the '10s exploring all manner of frigid wastelands as Ugasanie, Mr. Malyshkin started branching out with side-projects that didn't quite fit that mould. Polterngeist got in on some occult themes, while Silent Universe set its sights among the stars. Or the nothingness between the stars. Or the Lovecraftian horrors that dwell within dead stars. There's potentially a lot of things to explore out there, is what I'm saying, even if it appears to be a whole lotta' nothing getting there.

I think that's what struck me about Stellar Winds, more a sense of journey in this album compared to his latter offerings. That may be a case of dabbling in various aspects of cosmic drone rather than creating a singular mood, but it cannot be denied Pavel's provided a little journey of sorts. Peering Into The Sky is about as neutral a piece of dark ambient drone can be in this context, letting the overhanging black wash upon you, seeing just how deep into the cosmos we really can peer, whether we should or not.

Oh, this doesn't seem so bad. Nebulas And Clusters offers a little harmonic tone for you, letting the grandeur of these massive, parsec-spanning forms gently flow among an unfathomable void. Speaking of, this piece kinda' reminds me of the opening track from The Infinity Coordinates, if a little more minimalist in execution.

That's about the end of 'tranquility' offered by Stellar Winds. Silent Of Stars is a lengthy drone with the pitch slowly lowerering, as though descending into the abyss. And what do we find on the other side? Pure desolation with Zodiacal Light and Terminator, while In The Meteor Shower has us... wait, is this mechanical breathing I hear? Have I been in a stasis pod all this time? Goodness, I never would have thought I'd have feelings of claustrophobia in an album designed to feel open isolation. There's even a trailing bit of melancholic tone towards the end, implying this grand journey has always been within the mind. Seems about right.

Stormloop - Snowbound*

Glacial Movements Records: 2011

Yet another artist I've long meant to return to, and simply neglected for... gosh, half a decade now? There's a silly reason for this, in that when I picked up his Into The Void album, I thought I was diving into an artist with an impeccable work rate, his prior decade seeing the release of some twenty LPs worth of music. Now appearing on ..txt, it looked as though Stormloop was ready to launch his career ever higher. And there would be I, having his Bandcamp page bookmarked, getting all those early alerts that another session of lush ambient tones was about to drop. Only... it didn't.

Not that Kev Spence went totally dark after Into The Void, still releasing the odd item here and there. Just compared to his output prior, it's quite the drop-off. I'm sure there's any number of reasons for this – real world events conflicting, goals mostly accomplished, etc. - but yeah, when an artist slips from your recollection, so too does returning to their discography for another dive.

Fortunately, I was reminded of him when I started my splurge on Glacial Movements Records. Come to think of it, Stormloop was technically my introduction to the label, name-dropping them in my review of Into The Void. Didn't really make a connection then, and wouldn't for another couple years, until covering Skare's Grader. Funny how that works out. Anyhow, Glacial Movements offers bulk CD buys, so when I finally took the plunge, I was quite happy to see Stormloop's Snowbound* still among the options. Physical medium is already plenty rare in Kev's catalogue, and the fact such an old item (over a decade now!) was there for the taking, well, how can you beat that?

Just in case you weren't clear about the sort of album you're in for, the titular opener very gradually eases you into a wintry clime'. It almost feels like you're awakening from some long, restless slumber, unsure of your surroundings, biting cold piercing your flesh as you huddle yourself, gathering your bearings. The synth drone is ominous, yet somehow awe inspiring too, as though you know full well you're in an inhospitable realm that contains its own unique beauty. All the while, a steady electronic pulse carries you along, the sort of minimalist tone that will instantly get your Biosphere triggers flaring.

The desolate dark drone doesn't let up for the rest of the album. Tracks with titles like Cold Winds, A Blizzard, Dense Fog, and Losing Sleep should tell you the sort of album you're in for. We even seem to get space bound by the end, even though the foreboding tone doesn't offer much respite. There are moments of reflective tranquility (Space Station J), but once again, Glacial Movements has drawn some of the most isolationist ambient out of its contributing artists. Now excuse me while I wrap myself in more blankets. It cold here in Vancouver!

Sykonee's 'Sportsing' Surveys: DELERIUM / CONJURE ONE

Ah, Delerium. Some love 'em. Some hate 'em. Some loved 'em before they hated 'em. Some didn't know they existed for a decade before coming to love 'em. A great many more are probably indifferent but know at least one or two of their songs - typically in a remixed fashion. Wherever you stand on their worth, it's undeniable the group - primarily helmed by Bill Leeb, with Rhys Fulber as his frequent fellow muse, and a whole gaggle of lady vocalists in later years, have done much in the worlds of musical scenes most would deem incompatible. Are they really so?

Yes, if you were to take their very earliest industrial and dark ambient records against their most recent ethereal dance-pop outings, you'd wonder how that link ever formed. Or at least I wondered. And with wonder comes an interest in exploring an entire discography. Buckle-up, me buckos, this one's a three decades spanning dive!





























That sure was a dive that felt longer than I anticipated - probably didn't help I took on an additional discography in the process. That'd be like if I'd done all the solo albums of the original Genesis band members along with that band's primary output! Felt like I'd have done Rhys dirty if I didn't include his stuff with Leeb's though: the two remain so synced with each other after all these years, and the two projects were relatively similar overall. Ooh, does this mean I'll be tackling all the other Leeb/Rhys projects out there? Front Line Assembly does have quite the extensive discography too, not to mention other, smaller outings like Synesthasia.

Hhmm, no, I need to listen to something a bit different for a while. How does New Order sound to y'all?

Silent Universe - Gravity

Ignis Fatum: 2015

Another promising space-themed side-project that seems to have stalled. Why do I keep stumbling into these? Okay, my sample-size is small, but I'm sure if I kept digging deeper and deeper into all these niche scenes featuring artists with multiple aliases, I'd come across more. I just don't want to keep getting my hopes up, is all. The gap between Distant System releases was excruciating enough, and I needn't put myself through more of that on the regular. Oh, but they tempts us, they do...

I should be thankful The Infinity Coordinates isn't the lone Silent Universe album out there. Yeah, it's been half a decade since Pavel Malyshkin debuted the project on Cryo Chamber, but he's had plenty 'nuff on his plate with continual explorations of all things cold and remote as Ugasanie. Like, imagine if you were a hardcore fan of his other side-project, Polterngeist. That one didn't even get the Cryo bump, mostly relegated to self-releases, and remaining in mothballs for as long as Silent Universe has. Polterngeist did have one item out on Ignis Fatum, the minuscule Belarus net-label that housed the first two Silent Universe albums, so there's that at least.

Was this project started to support Ignis Fatum? Like, I can see Pavel wanting to help the label, though many dark ambient producers from eastern Europe did contribute to their debut compilation Inception (Dronny Darko, Aseptic Void, Symbiosis, to name just a few I'm familiar with via Cryo Chamber). There was even a couple Ugasanie tracks on Ignis Fatum collections, but for whatever reason, Pavel felt this was an opportunity to explore other sounds away from his most successful alias. Fair enough. When your most prominent work gets tied to a certain style, it's harder to creatively branch out. Here's a fresh name for a fresh label, and see what may come of those stellar winds.

Gravity was the second of the two Silent Universe releases on Ignis Fatum (so sayeth Discoggian release dates), and kinda' feels like the more standard of them. Yep, it's another dark space ambient LP themed around singularities, black holes, and all the cataclysmic events that occur at the bleeding edge of observable physics. Plus a pair of tracks titled Dark Energy and Dark Matter, in case you're feeling saucy about exotic astrophysics. Musically, such as it is, we're in Lustmordian drone territory, all ominous atonal moods and sounds. Subtle hints of melodic harmony occasionally emerges in some of the seven tracks (Dark Energy, Event Horizon, Among The Dead Stars), while others seek to simply crush your sense of self (Black Hole, Hubble Radius).

As mentioned, it's all familiar territory where Stygian cosmic drone is concerned. Even knowing how adept Pavel is at this style, I was quite surprised at how encompassing Gravity sounded on my headphones while dozing. Had to take them off at one point to make sure I wasn't hearing it from my regular speakers, as I'm sure drones that loud would wake the neighbours.

Robert Rich - Below Zero

Side Effects: 1998

I bought Equal Stones' Below Zero from Ultimae's online shop. When I received my order in the mail, I somehow ended up with two albums with that title, the other this particular item from Robert Rich. How did that happen? Did the folks at Ultimae HQ not know which Below Zero I wanted, and hedged their bets? Or did they figure, if I wanted one Below Zero, why not have another? This isn't the first time I got a 'bonus' disc from them either, the last time introducing me to Simon Heath's Krusseldorf project. That led me to some... interesting music tangents, believe you me.

And honestly, it's about time I dive into Robert Rich, isn't it? I've known of the man's seminal contributions to the minimalist side of ambient drone works for a while, but like others in this field (Steve Roach, Vidna Obmana), his catalogue runs vast and ancient. Where does one even begin with such a discography? Agreed upon classics? Multi-disc retrospectives? Blind leaps based on eye-catching cover art? Yes to all, but I'm starting out with the 'unexpected extra CD from online order' method.

I've also kinda-sorta stumbled upon a compilation at that, Below Zero a gathering of a half-dozen tracks from other compilations Robert contributed to. Simple idea, but quite odd in execution, as this comes care of Lustmord's industrial print, Side Effects. The two had collaborated for the Stalker album, but Rich was mostly a Hearts Of Space kind of ambient composer, with little dabbling in the darker side of the genre. There must have been enough stray works out there for such a collection as this though, but releasing it on Side Effects, a label shutting its doors so shortly after? Was no one else willing to do the deed of scouring obscure ambient compilations for Robert Rich material?

Anyhow, Below Zero opens with Star Maker, a multi-part cosmic dark drone piece lasting over twenty minutes that traverses cosmic desolation before morphing into something a little less sinister. Feels like we're bearing witness to the birth of a solar system, or at least its primary life-giver. Eleven-minute follow-up Dissolving The Seeds Of A Moment (apparently never released before) goes for the atonal assault of dark drone, the sort of sound that's right up Lustmord's alley. A Flock Of Metal Creatures Fleeing The Onslaught Of Rust and Termite Epiphany mostly follow suite, though are shorter excursions, and even have moments of respite in their runtimes.

Then things take a turn for the ...benign? I wouldn't go so far as to say Liquid Air is all calm and soothing as traditional ambient can go, some of the pad layers still somewhat discordant. That gentle keyboard tone though, acting like a settling rudder for the ominous feels lurking about, does ease the frazzle mind-state some. And despite a rather melancholic mood, Requiem's voice pad timbre almost sounds like an exhale of pent-up emotional tension. Goodness, a 'journey' album, out of a compilation? Wonders never cease.

Equal Stones - Below Zero

Glacial Movements Records: 2019

We inch closer to Proper Winter now, the weather growing ever colder in our annual tilt away from solar warmth. Yes, even my seasonally smug corner of the world. Atmospheric rivers aside, we've been extra cool 'round these here parts, dipping below freezing temperatures. Sometimes. Usually at around 4:14am. By about one or two degrees. Honest, that's unusual for us, plus counts as a tie-in to this album's title and theme!

Yes, in my ceaseless need to chill the f' out, I've taken the most logical step in scoping out another of Glacial Movements Records items, an album titled Below Zero. Why, it even has a derelict boat on the cover art! Well, maybe not completely derelict, but certainly in no condition to travel, ensconced within foggy frost as it is. Interestingly, despite growing up in a port town well into the northern latitudes, this is not a scene I'm familiar with. In fact, that town is somewhat famous for having one of the deepest harbours that never freezes year round, which is handy when you want to move cargo without running into hull-carving islands of ice. Now if only it wasn't located in such a remote part of Canada's west coast, maybe it'd have grown larger than it did.

Anyhow, Equal Stones. One Amandus Schaap, he started out making droney, melancholic ambient music for the obscure net-label Hidden Vibes. Well, not that obscure anymore, as a few noted names have had releases out on it (SiJ, The Green Kingdom, Chihei Hatakeyama, Halftribe). They also aren't strictly a net-label anymore either, having gained enough clout to offer limited CD runs as well. Equal Stones was there at the beginning though, and remained fairly exclusive to Hidden Vibes for half a decade. He started branching out into darker strains of the genre as Death Star, and has now (well, a couple years ago) hooked up with Glacial Movements for a conceptual album of ice-cold drone.

Below Zero opens up with Presence, and if that doesn't immediately trigger feelings of unease that lumbering icebergs are about, the bitter cold sounds definitely will. With sounds of biting winds and grinding ice enveloping your headspace, Amandus does an effective job in putting you in a most inhospitable of arctic clime's. Even Ugasanie would shiver.

It's mostly industrial drone-tone from here on out, which is fine for what it is, but I feel loses some of the album's theme along the way. It's not until the final sixteen-minute track Fragmented Ice that things get back to something truly icy. Aside from an intermittent 'exhale' from sickly machinery, we're treated to desolate white noise for many minutes. Discordant tones and flickering electronics gradually swell in prominence, even getting on some '70s style flange. It's like being isolated in some remote science station, adrift on islands of gravel and ice. And always that heavy exhale, as though the deep freeze makes the simple act of breathing torture. Maybe best to hibernate, for a while...

Sabled Sun - 2149

Cryo Chamber: 2021

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mount Shrine - Winter Restlessness

Cryo Chamber: 2018

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rapoon - Song From the End Of The World

Glacial Movements Records: 2016

Just another dark ambient album, that's all this was meant to be. I've reviewed countless of these, enjoyed most of them for their sonic narratives and explorations of dronescapes. I've even let my mind drift into escapism with some offerings, into realms while not hospitable, certainly provide solace in sensory deprivation. I certainly never let them 'get to me', affect my mood to such a degree that I need to step back for a bit, come back when I'm of better frame of mind. Much, much later. That Rapoon fella' though, he has a way of getting under your brain, tapping into parts of your psyche that seems all too willing to surrender its autonomy, utterly succumbing to whatever vibe he's crafting. And if that vibe happens to be an 'end of the world' motif, well, you can imagine that having the effect of bringing down your whole day.

Not that this isn't untapped material where Robin's discography is concerned. A good chunk of his Zoviet France days was spent twisting tapes into a weird, hypnotic cacophony of post-industrial horrors. As his career transitioned into Rapoon, however, his sonic travels generally drifted further away from such bleakness, at times even coming across jubilant while still adhering to those most primitive of musical instincts. By contrast, Song From The End Of The World sounds like a return to those roots. Not to say that Mr. Storey hasn't dabbled into Zoviet France styled stuff between then and here – I can't claim to have heard every Rapoon album – but of what I've listened to, this album re-captures those apocalyptic vibes quite nicely. And by nicely, I mean terrifying.

He doesn't waste any time getting right into the thick of it either. We Travelled In Waves does that warping loop-craft much of Rapoon's music entails, this time with a bleak piano and bell tones endlessly repeating while white noise hiss marinates everything in a suffocating stench. This goes on for quite a while, before abruptly shifting into eerie, twitchy minimalism, and discordant orchestral swells, all the while maintaining that hypnotic repetitiveness. When the piano returns, it's almost a sigh of relief, remarkable considering how unsettling it sounded at the start.

And it only gets more hopeless from there. A Listening Ice sounds like wailing wraiths trapped under Antarctic glaciers. A Sky Beckons Down brings in ghostly voices and tongues. A Prophecy Lies Under adds an orchestral to all the chanting. An Answer In Ice twists sounds in such a way they sound like flesh-ripping polar winds. And to tie things up, The Sky Dances In Green lays everything to waste. Serious 'World Of Ruin' vibes with this one, lasting well over eleven minutes. Take that 'leap of faith', Celes, you're better off.

It feels weird recommending Song From The End Of The World. It's not a headspace one should actively indulge in. If you're at all curious of the psychological power of dark ambient though, by all means give it a go.

Alphaxone - Edge Of Solitude

Cryo Chamber: 2018

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

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

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

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

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