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.

Herne - Emotional Axes

Neotantra: 2022

In a coincidental twist, the next album within the Ember Delays Vol. 1 box-set is one that would have ended up slotted in my review queue at this point regardless. Somewhere hereabouts, at least, the combination of 'Em' surprisingly common for titling among musicians. Emotional, Emit, Emfire, Empire, Empyrean, and so on. Of course, not nearly as many variants of 'El', what with well over a dozen versions of 'Electr' and 'Element' in there (and three 'Elephants', somehow ...yes, my mind still boggles).

Dammit, and now that I've tugged at that bit of useless trivia, my wonky brain-matter is suddenly compelled to find out all the useless stats of such combinations within my music collection. How many albums start with 'Ex' or 'Im' or 'Lo' or 'Xp'. Or maybe go reverse on it, like how many don't start with 'Qu'? (zero, by the way – the answer to that one is zero). Such insatiable need to know things, especially that which serve no purpose other than filling statistical bupkis.

Well, that was a tangent, which means I either have little to talk about the music on hand, or little info regarding the artist crafting it. Definitely the latter than the former, this Herne having almost no Discoggian presence, and nothing else I can find elsewhere. In fact, about the only material he has to his name are frequent contributions to Neotantra compilations, first appearing all the way back on tʌntrə V. He made relatively steady appearances after for the next couple years, then was finally given the album go-ahead with this here Emotional Axes. Then following that, not a peep. Maybe whoever Herne is started working on other stuff under a different name, but again, no idea of that with the information I have available to me. For all I know, it's another Lee Norris side project.

Anyhow, Emotional Axes. This was a bit of an odd one, in that it started one way, then kinda' morphed into something else by album's end. Yeah, we're still dealing with ambient music, but as I hope I've made abundantly clear over the years, there's a lot of variety within the genre, even when focusing on the more subtle, calming side of things.

For instance, the first few tracks quite remind me of the sort of lowercase minimalism I frequently heard on Andrew Heath's albums. Maybe not quite as abstract, the quiet use of field recordings and simple flowing pads rather straight-forward and obvious - when a track called Concentration invokes feelings of gentle reflection, you know the artist is on point in their musical intent. Yet while the minimalism does carry through, Herne's execution starts varying as the album plays out. Some tracks start layering atonal pads into a wall of sound, while others (especially towards LP's end) abandon musicality altogether, settling into experimental bleeps and ultra-quiet dark drones. I can't say I was as fond of these pieces, somewhat ruining the tranquil mood the earlier portions of Emotional Axes offered.

D York - Melancholic Gardens

Neotantra: 2022

So I got another box-set.

The collection is called Ember Delays Vol 1, which gathered five digital albums released under the Neotantra banner, and gave them a spiffy physical upgrade. Had I ripped those individual CDs rather than download the Bandcamp version for listening purposes, where they were all bundled within the same folder, I'd be reviewing them in their orderly alphabetical sequence instead. I didn't though, hence why it'll appear we're jumping all over the place for the next week. I'm technically reviewing a compilation called Ember Delays, but unique, previously-released albums within its slim casing.

But yeah, one of the reasons I sprung for this set was for the CDs, in that Neotantra doesn't really release them anymore. Ever since the label abandoned the gradient colour cover art, it's been almost entirely digital, which I'm sure is more convenient on the expenses front (no coincidence this switch occurred right around peak pandemic years). Not that I'd be greedily gobbling up all such releases if they did – it was difficult enough keeping pace with their Phase 1 material, even with a thematic scheme that triggers one's OCD. Still, given the abundance of material Neotantra releases on the regular, it's nice having a few of them properly sitting on the CD shelves.

Interestingly, D York is one of the few artists to have a physical option from the label in recent years, with the album Airport Meditations. I assume it's a sublime slice of ambient music – the cover art certainly deserves some extra shine outside the confines of computer screens – but the chap's got a lot of material in his discography, so I've no way of confirming it's top-tier among his releases.

Yeah, Mr. York (I can't find info on his real name) has released a lot of material, mostly while in isolation during lockdown – his first album was called Covidium, in case you're wondering where his inspiration lies. Lots of long-form drone pieces, a series titled Music For Long Attention Spans being his most fruitful assortment of works. He's mostly stuck to self-release options, but got chummy with the Neotantra folks with a couple contributions to their Tantra compilations, and was finally given the go-ahead with a full-length album for them with this here Melancholic Gardens. No guesses on how this one's gonna' go.

Yeah, expect lots of languid, layered ambient synths, richly textured field recordings, reflective moods and a general sense of calm as you casually stroll through urban green spaces. The music does feel open, yet somehow constrained too, always that sense of suffocating humanity just around the corner from the naturalist setting you're currently inhabiting. Most of the tracks follow this pattern, though a couple break form: The Pines mostly focuses on gentle glass tones, digital-only Cloudburst gets a little Berlin-School towards its end. Overall though, Melancholic Gardens is about as I expect from Neotantra: lush ambient music from a label that never seems to run out of it.

Nacht Plank - Echo Ark

...txt: 2014/2022

For as much as I've talked about his labels, his collaborations, and his influence upon modern ambient techno circles in general, I sure haven't covered much of Lee Norris' solo work. Indeed, of the twenty-seven items I have tagged with his name within this blog's archives, only four are of Lee on his own. And most of those tend to be Nacht Plank items, though that's not terribly surprising as it's the alias he's most often released under. Yeah, Metamatics and Norken may have given him more early momentum, but Nacht Plank seems to be where he feels most free in his musical journeys.

And that may also be why I haven't come back to it often. Alien was an interesting album with analogue '70s weirdness going for it, but boy do I need to be in a particular mood to enjoy it. Which is more than could be said for the raw experimentation I heard on Broad Tape Band. And as for Third Sacraments Council, well, it's certainly a solid slice of hour-long ambient drone, but again, only good for particular moods (chiefly, 'sweepy beddy-bye time'). All this is to say I needed something rather particular for me to indulge in a Nacht Plank release again.

And this Echo Ark album, that certainly looked to fit the bill. Just the cover art alone, EPCOT Center as viewed through some alternate lens, already sparks so many creative possibilities. The near-naive optimism of Disneyfied retro-futurism, twisted into some abstract tonal counterpoint, a lasting legacy of human hubris in the face of a society deformed from its former glory. I'm not saying Echo Ark is all that – indeed, maybe Lee presents this album with just as much Utopian idealism as Tomorrowland always envision. Given these colour tones though, I suspect not.

Opening Shepherd Satelite is a rather tranquil start though, the analogue bleeps and bloops kept mostly to a steadying heartbeat while synth pads gently slide and glide throughout- Oh, wait, things just took a tonal shift. Now we're in weirdly ominous territory, with additional transistor chatter. Did... did something happen? Has the grand plan fallen upon hard times? Well, whatever the case, following that is a near twenty-six minute long excursion of tranquil field recording manipulations, melancholy synths, and even a little pitter-patter of rhythm burbling to the surface now and then. Aminita, the piece is called, and if it don't conjure primordial vistas as seen through some viewscreen on the Prometheus (the one orbiting Solaris, I mean), I don't know what will.

The rest of Echo Ark (three tracks averaging a dozen minutes each) play out in similar fashion: field recordings, wistful synth pad melodies, light use of experimental sounds and effects. Overall a rather pleasant outing, especially considering the more foreboding tone the second half of Shapherd Satelite suggested. I guess even Lee couldn't get quite as cynical as some do whenever talking about the overtly celebratory nature of EPCOT's future vision for mankind.

Cymphonic - Dimensionata

Databloem: 2013

Diving deep into Databloem can seem daunting. Yeah, plenty recognizable names have passed through the label's doors over the decades, but I'm talking about all the other names that have come and gone. Your Danny Kreutzfeldts, your Krzysztof Orluks, your Beta Two Agonists, and so on. Of course, you never know who might make it far in this niche business – I doubt anyone had a clue that Daniel Pemberton kid would become a player in Hollywood when he debuted on Fax+ as a teen. Still, its understandable why some artists get bypassed, never gaining the name recognition that comes with a fruitful career. Only to be rediscovered long down the road when folks start truly digging into a long-lasting label in a flurry of “How did we miss this?” excitement.

I'm not saying Stanley Swinkel's Cymphonic project is one such example, but man, listening to his final record Dimensionata, I could see it happening. He didn't release much, just a handful of items on Databloem, but if they're as interesting as this one, they gotta' be worth scoping out.

It isn't even like he's doing something revolutionary or unique with his ambient excursion here, but it's somehow quite captivating for the hour-plus time it plays through. That's not such an easy feat as you'd believe, always those moments in LP-length ambient sessions that will have your attention drifting this way or that. Does it sound like I'm praising a singular track? Yes, because that's what Dimensionata is, even though it's not.

There are separate tracks on here, eleven ranging from three to fifteen minutes in length (mostly on the shorter end). You can hear when each track starts and ends, as there will be a distinct tonal shift between them. Yet everything flows so seamlessly together, you'll swear it's all the same piece with different segments. I know the easiest comparison would be something like an old, lengthy Berlin-School jam, but even those would be structured around a singular concept. Dimensionata is somehow like that, but each segment stands unique from the other, as a skipping session clearly illustrates.

Primavera features ethereal harps and meditative chants, Weaving makes use of distant operatic voices over minimalist pads, Alignment Of Realities grows ominous with dark ambience, Dancing In Purple Light brings tranquil levity with spritely arps, and so on and so on. As described, each piece sounds perfectly fine on their own, yet I can't imagine listening to any of them outside the context of this album as a whole. Yes, that makes Dimensionata the Ace Track of this review, even though it's not a singular track in of itself.

But is it any good though? Well, if you like your ambient music subtle and full of humble grace, absolutely. Whether its a true Hidden Gem of Databloem, you'd have to ask someone who's consumed the label's entire catalogue. From what I've heard out of the print, however, it's definitely one of the more fascinating listening experiences I've had.

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.

Moss Covered Technology - Brick And Air

Audiobulb Records: 2022

I've gone on about all these other endless Bandcamp discography buys and box-set purchases, yet somehow have quietly almost completed another one just like that. Right, I didn't get the totality of Mr. Baird's material, only settling for a select few. Still, the handful I did wasn't a small amount, and now that I've nearly completed those, I find myself compelled to get more, just to complete the set. The fact he makes some captivating drone pieces doesn't hurt either.

Since it was the Neotantra album Sodium Light that first drew my attention to Moss Covered Technology, it's only fitting that I scope out its pseudo-sequel Brick And Air. I call it as such not just because it was the (year in the making) follow-up to the former record, but more that they cover similar themes, in this case the rather desolate isolation of urban night. This isn't really a concept Greig typically explores, more content casting his muse towards pastoral settings and foggy coast lands. And while I'm quite drawn to such settings myself (particularly the latter), I'm always fascinated by how some interpret wandering the cold concrete of back streets and dimly lit industrial sectors that make up our cities. Burial practically made it a whole genre, and fact of the matter is many artists find themselves residing in such locales. Some make music to escape, but others take it on, grimy alley gunk and steaming machinery steel warts and all.

In typical Moss Covered Technology fashion, Brick And Air came out on a totally different label from all his other works, this time Audiobulb Records. It's another one of those experimental prints that I barely knew existed, but has been in operation for two decades - is there really no end to such labels? A couple names I'm familiar with have appeared on Audiobulb (Darren McClure, Porya Hatami, Autistici) but most are utter blanks to my eyes. Artists like Otaru, Calika, Aria Rostami, Monty Adkins, :papercutz, Hans Van Eck, He Can Jog, A Dancing Begger, The Hole Punch Generation, The OO-Ray, and Craque.

As with most M.C.T. albums, each track is self-titled, though Brick And Air does come with an Intro and Outro as well. Anyhow, though I gave a Burial namedrop up there, this is most decidedly not in that lane of urban drone. Brick & Air I is almost modern classical, through fed through quite the haze of atonal hiss and analogue fuzz. II gets more glitchy with things, while distorted tones penetrate a gritty wall of static in III. Meanwhile, IV and VI feature more glitchy melodies, but V takes a turn towards the dark ambient side of things. I could totally hear this piece being featured in a God Body Disconnect album on Cryo Chamber, with additional field recordings of inner city existence among the distant harmonious pads. Hmm, now there's an intriguing label for Greig to appear on. Why not? He's appeared on Dronarivm, as has ProtoU. Drone ambient has all the connections, man!

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.

David Cordero - And Stillness Came

Polar Seas Recordings: 2022

Another new ambient artist on another new ambient label. They just keep on a' comin', don't they? Mind, we're not dealing with spankin' brand new here, as I've grazed by David Cordero before, appropriately enough on Archives. Meanwhile, even if this is the first item I'm reviewing from Polar Seas Recordings, I'm fairly certain I've name-dropped this label. Hell, I've been wearing their t-shirt for months now, so the Canadian print has to have come up once or thrice. Hm, does this mean I should do a label info dump, or an artist info dump? As I'll be coming back to Polar Seas down the line, let's focus on Mr. Cordero for now.

I should clarify that David is only new to me (and most of you, I wager), with a career that's spanned a couple decades. He was part of a Spanish post-rock band called Ursula, which had a modest run of albums through the '00s. When that ended, he got into the label business with Knockturne Records, contributing occasional music along the way. The print only lasted a few years though, after which David refocused on music making at a more steady clip. Getting some traction on labels like Archives and Dronarivm, things really seemed to take off at the start of this decade, David's discography ballooning with many releases and collaborations. Being forced indoors for a spell with the rest of society apparently had that affect on a lot of musicians, especially those with a post-rock background moving into the realms of ambient.

As befitting someone with a background in actual musicianship, Mr. Cordero's brand of ambient leans more towards the modern classical variety. Not that instrumentation is highly prevalent, indeed most of the pieces on And Stillness Came relying on drawn-out tones lazily gliding along. It's just when a hefty bulk of my recent ambient listening entails fancier studio tricks like overdubbing and glitch-fuzzing, hearing a collection of tracks sounding far more 'traditionalist' has me thinking more the realms of Harold Budd than Tangerine Dream.

And as if that Budd comparison couldn't be more apt, opener Morning Loops is about as Buddy as it gets, gentle keyboard tones creating a soft blanket of reverb as they linger in the air, a soft bit of background distortion the only nod to contemporary ambient techniques. Follow-up Aysmmetric Feelings with Miguel Otero provides an extra layer of dubby timbre, but generally treads similar territory, while Booleans simplifies things to sustained minimalism.

None of these pieces are terribly long, the truly tranquil, softly glitchy Transitory Ghosts with Suso Saiz the lengthiest things get at just a shade over six minutes. At ten tracks long, that does leave And Stillness Came a rather brief listening affair, with many drifting by with barely any notice. Heck, with Empty Set mostly field recordings atop soft tones, you could think the album already over, should your window be left open. As I said, ambient music in its purest form.

Moss Covered Technology - And His Many Seas

Facture: 2018

Of all Greig Baird's album, this one immediately caught my eye. I'll never tire of nautical themed music, whether they be ambient drone or Viking metal, so this was a shoe-in for yours truly. More than that though, I've always envisioned my destiny to be like the chap we see on the cover art, living out my greying days as an old man by the sea. Not that I'm a man of the sea, mind you, though if I could have any job in history, a cartographer from the Exploration Age certainly ranks high up there. For now, I'll suffice living by the sea, gazing wistfully at waves washing upon the shore, and all that chum rot.

While Greig's inspiration for this album had more to do with navigating his stormy feelings over a father's illness, the label that initially picked this up didn't hold back in running with the nautical allegory. Indeed, part of Facture's manifesto is loading their releases up with all manner of vintage swag and paraphernalia, such that it feels like you're unlocking some Victorian Era time capsule. I'm talking post cards, cloth-bound books, weathered prints, celluloid negatives, glass slides, film reel strips... just an insane amount of detail and craftsmanship goes into these. Naturally, they're also a bit pricey, and almost immediately sell out what limited stock they manufacture. Man, good thing I'm no longer so beholden to FOMO of these sort of releases, right? *twitch, twitch*

As with Sodium Light, where I took my Moss Covered Technology plunge, And His Many Seas simply titles each track Sea (his 'many seas', see? Sorry, had to...). For a body of music that supposedly has some narrative to it, Greig doesn't provide many hints of what each piece means. Maybe there were more guiding suggestions as part of the whole Facture package, and you can regardless glean particular feelings and emotions from the eight Seas within. If you need your ambient music more specific of intent, however, this may not be the album for you.

As for the sort of ambience MCT does offer, I found it a surprisingly varied assortment. The first couple were about as I expected, Sea #1 featuring layered, sweeping drones, while Sea #2 goes more dusty and crackly with its delicate organ tones. Neither are terribly long, so just as well Sea #4 brings us the album's centrepiece at eleven minutes. At first quiet and gentle, drones gradually build upon themselves, growing richly dense, but never overwhelming. Sea #5 is almost bright and cheery as a follow-up, and a modern classical sort of way, while the remaining pieces has me reminded of Archives' brand of dubby ambient. Not a bad comparison to make at all.

Can't deny I'm letting some personal bias cloud my enjoyment of And His Many Seas. Such music playing in my head as I rock in an old chair, porch facing west across the ocean, a stiff salty breeze bristling through long, white whiskers upon my cheek.

Aes Dana - (a) period.

Ultimae Records: 2021/2022

Another CD I didn't expect to get, though for totally reasonable reasons. Plenty of positive buzz surrounding this album led to a quick sell-out, one I'm sure even Aes Dana himself couldn't have predicted. I certainly didn't, letting (a) period. slip by without a buy. Whenever does Ultimae Records sell out of CD stock anyways? Okay, they always did, and still occasionally do. I just wasn't expecting this one too, y'know? It's not like earlier albums from Aes Dana such as Perimeters and Pollen have disappeared from the Ultimae shop.

And because I can't go any review without finding something to get naggy over, let's get my two issues out of the way. First, why has (a) period. gotten a quick re-issue, but nothing from Aes Dana's older catalogue yet? I've hesitated on grabbing the digital versions of Memory Shell and Aftermath and the H.U.V.A. Network albums for a lo-o-o-ong time, always holding out hope they'll see a spiffy CD re-issue again at some point. If Vincent is fine doing the deed with his recent material, why not these out-of-print projects as well?

Moving onto point two, why the change-up in cover art for the re-issue? I know many of Ultimae's re-releases have seen changes to their artwork, but not always. Inks, for instance, has seen a couple re-issues, and retained its lumpy, grooved look through them all. I feel changing (a) period. from a fog enshroud suspension bridge to some surf wash somewhat ruins the vibe of what this album accomplished. Indeed, I'd argue part of the reason this got so much attention was because of that artwork, so perfectly complimenting the moody ambience within. Even the Bandcamp digital version had its cover art changed. Man, I hope that doesn't jack the first edition CD up to ludicrous amounts of second-hand market money.

Okay, I've wasted too many words musing about these things. This album's great, essentially Mr. Villuis going about as ambient as he's ever gone for the duration of a full album. Most of the rhythms used are highly subdued and minimalist, sometimes barely a heartbeat. In fact, the spare times he does use regular beats, such as in the opener Foreword and near-closer Ambivalent, almost feel unnecessary (the requisite dub techno cut of Overpass a lone exception). No, (a) period. is primarily focused on moody tones, rich timbre, glitchy fuzz, overdubbed drone, and tranquil field recordings. Much of it played real quiet too, so you really feel the space between the sounds. And given how expansive Vincent's mastering techniques have always been, you can imagine how much of a feast for the ears this album is.

Seriously, it's as though all those years spent perfecting his studio craft has seen its ultimate form manifest itself with this album. This is the sort of music worth investing in those high-end headphones or expensive surround sound systems, even when it moves at such a glacial pace. Really lets you take in the sonic scenery, it does.

The Frozen Vaults - 1816

Voxxov Records: 2015

A super-group of modern classical? Well, I wouldn't know anything about that, but there are a few folk lending their talents to this project. Yuki Murata on piano. David Dhonau on cello. Tomasz Mreńca on violin. Whether they are major players or not, you'd have to sift through oodles of Discogs documents to figure that out, but they seem active enough. All well and good, but as usual, I'm coming into this from a different angle. Another player involved with The Frozen Vaults is Bartosz Dziadosz, whom I've covered here a couple times as Pleq. He's worked with the fifth member of this conglomerate, Harry Towell, who often releases similar lowercase ambient drone as Spheruleus. I guess they wanted to take their muses to another level, hence bringing in some modern classical musicians to craft this love-letter to one of the darkest years in modern human history.

Why so dark, you ask? The ridiculously massive explosion of Mount Tambora in Indonesia the year prior, is why. It ejected so much particulate matter into the atmosphere, the global temperature cooled significantly such that it was called The Year Without Summer – didn't do much good for crops, nosiree. And since this was still an era where communication across continents was limited by sea and sail, word of Tambora's mighty spew never reached the Western world, even if its after effects did. It was a mystery for many, this winter-summer, where good ol' uncertainty and superstition can take hold. Sounds like a perfect bit of inspiration for artists known for a little frigid, melancholic drone.

And this group doesn't waste time getting you settled into an appropriate mood. Opener First Moments features wind-swept field recordings with desolate atmosphere (yet also some chirping birds?), orchestral strings soon emerging as featured cello and violin solos forlornly glide along, finally ebbing to footsteps crunching under snowy streets. Not the most inviting introduction to the year 1816, but with cover art featuring an ice-encrusted sea vessel, what else would you expect?

The album mostly plays out in similar fashion. Field recordings place the listener into an old-timey environment, followed upon by Yuki, Tomasz, and David doing their thing in tandem. Sometimes the piano is given more prominence (God Rest Yet Merry Gentlemen), other times the violin or cello (Stilled), but throughout it all, always an omnipresent, low thrum and crackly white noise. Like, imagine you're watching some archival footage of folks trying to go about their business, even as an almost unnatural chill envelops their lives.

All well and cool, but one thing in particular sold me on this album sight-unheard. Okay, two things, but cover art notwithstanding, the fact that 1816 was mastered by Aes Dana truly sweetened the deal. His own label's output may be hit or miss, but that impeccable Ultimae touch on other artists' material always elevates things to another level. Bringing that to an album filled with lovely piano and violin playing? Can't be beat, yo'!

Autumn Of Communion - 3

...txt/Fantasy Enhancing: 2013/2023

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

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

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

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

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

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...

Warmth - Wildlife

Archives: 2019

Agustín seems to have done well for himself now, finding his footing in a way overcrowded ambient scene. Something has to be that tipping point though, where one's success goes from ultra-niche hobbiest to algorithmic search engine approved. It'd be easy enough pointing towards landing some prominent names for his Archives print as one such tipping point, and having acts like Purl, Halftribe, and Gallery Six certainly were gets. I'm more curious about Mr. Mena's own output though, where his Warmth project was seen on equal footing as other ambient luminaries. It's not like his pre-Archives material was gaining much attention, mostly floating about various ambient and dub techno netlabels with little notice. Even his initial material on Archives didn't generate that much buzz.

Is Wildlife that one Warmth album you need to hear, even if you're not a fan of Warmth, then? Hard to say, but it certainly feels unique among his catalogue. Unlike other releases within Archives', erm, archives, this one does not feature some lovely bit of natural scenery. Rather, a big ol' mama grizzly bear adorns the album's cover art. At least, I assume it's a mama bear, as the inlay has a couple cubs running about, plus the Wildlife Addendum record features a shot of the whole family together. Right, having some sort of actual wildlife as the art for your album called Wildlife makes one-hundred percent sense, but what I find interesting is Warmth's Retrospective (2016-2021) collection also features a prominent grizzly. Agustín must feel some personal connection to these magnificent ursine to reuse their visage, is what I'm saying, which leads me to believe Wildlife is, indeed, that one Warmth album you need to hear, even if you're not a fan of Warmth.

Is the music any good though? Well, it's more ambient drone in that Archives stylee, so if you're down for more of that, you're likely down for this. I haven't tired of it yet, and don't sense I will anytime soon. Gads, there's just so much music in Archive's catalogue!

But yes, you have that fuzzy, dreamy timbre the best of dubby drone has to offer in Wildlife. Where gentle tones seemingly drift across fog covered mountain lakes at dawn. Where subtle, echoing sounds emanate from distant corners of pre-dawn shrouded forests. Where melancholic pads settle layer upon layer such that you're lost within their sonic embrace. Some tracks offer quiet, reflective moments (Owls, The Bear, Wildlife, Dawning), others a more disquieting tone (The Woods, Sonora, Shine, Soil). A couple artists add some acoustic flair to the dense synth drone (Pepo Galán in Shine, Robert Farrugia in Dawning), but this is primarily Agustín's show.

So yep, this is definitely another solid outing from Warmth, and if you're unsure where to dive into his discography, about as good as any place. Well, unless you want to get the whole kit and caboodle with Retrospective (2016-2021). Either way, you're getting at least one more release with a prominent Kodiak on the cover.

God Body Disconnect - The Wanderer's Dream

Cryo Chamber: 2021

I was fairly active giving Cryo Chamber annual shine, but apparently it's been twenty months since I last talked them up! It's not for a lack of material attracting my interest, oh no. They simply drifted for a while, putting yet another Bandcamp bulk buy on the back burner. And further... and further... Or maybe getting properly physically active made listening to dark ambient music an unnecessarily depressing distraction? Nah, couldn't be.

Just as well, then, that Simon Heath has expanded the variety of cinematic drones available on his label. Explorations in urban reflections, noir, sci-fi that isn't straight-up cosmic horror... even some regular ol' meditative ambient. Okay, it's often of a more melancholic bent, not really the best backing music when aligning one's chakras or whatever. Compared to the outright oppressive drone that marked Cryo Chamber's early releases, however, we may as well be talking about Dreamloop sessions.

One of the label's earlier breakout acts, God Body Disconnect, actually wormed a few such gentle pieces within his albums. Indeed, Mr. Moallem's debut album, Dredge Portals, worked so effectively because of that contrast. I can't say I kept tabs on his material much after that though. Yeah, I eagerly snatched the pseudo-sequel Sleeper's Fate, but couldn't help but feel Bruce might hit a creative dead-end in doing the 'spoken word' gimmick over and over. I honestly haven't indulged in all of his material since to find out, but wanted to dive back in somewhere. Hence, me checking out this two year old album, The Wanderer's Dream.

First off, just look at that cover! Nothing about it strikes you as dark ambient, does it. Sure, some of the grainy, weathered aesthetic may suggest a grainy, weathered sound within, but for the most part, you could hang this on your wall with some regular naturalist artwork and have few side-glances in the process. It's a shockingly bright, almost sunny piece, the coming light of a new dawn. But this is Cryo Chamber, mang'! Ain't no way the ambient dronescape within can be as pleasingly light.

Well, maybe not, but it certainly is peaceful. A relatively short album at forty-seven minutes total, The Wanderer's Dream basically captures those melancholic moods one may feel when out for a stroll in the early hours of the day, particularly after being up all night lost in anxious thoughts. It isn't necessarily depressive, finding it soothing for depressive thoughts, a steady, calming tone with comforting harmonies easing one out of self-induced stress. Not to say there aren't moments of apprehension either, they just aren't the norm, and often nicely counter-balanced shortly after.

Another all-time classic from God Body Disconnect, then? Eh, I can't say as such. While the ambient on hand is quite nice, and definitely a departure from the Cryo Chamber norm, it is a relatively common sort, as heard from many other sources. A worthy addition to the label's canon, for sure, but probably all-too easily overlooked from ambient connoisseurs abroad.

Jochem Paap - Vrs-Mbnt-Pcs 9598 II

Fax +49-69/450464: 1999/2021

No one ever releases just one item on Fax+, as is the law and tradition. Thus it is, by decree, that Jochem Paap released not just one volume of Vrs-Mbnt-Pcs 9598, but two. Wait, if that title is to be believed, and these sessions were from all the same time frame, why not make it a double-LP instead of two separate CDs? Pft, that's just not how things were done at Pete Namlook's label. You were gonna' get yourself a single CD with each outing, and you'll like it! And for the most part, folks did like it, even if it made being a completist an almost Herculean trial.

These two albums were all Jochem wrote for Fax+, at least as a solo artist. He did do one collaborative joint with Namlook half a decade later, titled pp • nmlk, which... um. Okay, I know the whole naming 'gimmick' Mr. Paap chose for these records was editing out the vowels, so an album title that's just their last names with no vowels makes sense. It's just... I'm sorry, my Beavis & Butthead brain can't help itself! Also, for some reason, that album hasn't been re-issued yet. I'm assuming it's only a matter of time, as lots of material from the Namlook estate has slowly been unearthed in recent years, if not via Silent State Recordings, then via the multitude of artists he collaborated with. One track has come out, ntr t nw wrld, as it appeared on The Ambient Gardener – Winter, but that's all. Patience is a virtue.

Anyhow, I mentioned in the previous review that Vrs-Mbnt-Pcs 9598 I only felt like a Fax+ release part of the time. Not so much 9598 II, about as classic a Fax+ type album as you'll ever come across. For starters, there's a half-hour long track on here – it don't get much more vintage Fax+ than that, my friends! And, in traditional Fax+ fashion, Mrg-Rvx is about as noodly an ambient jam session as you'll come across, ominous synth tones bubbling and burbling like some sort of digital cauldron. It doesn't seem to go anywhere beyond moving for its own sake, but ever-so gradually, dark cinematic drone slides in, sounding a bit rather like the foreboding white-noise pieces that appeared on A Shocking Hobby, just in a more subtle manner. If all that seems too 'maximal' for you, then eighteen-minute follow-up Jchm-Zngn goes ultra-minimalist, gentle atonal pulses played with the softness of a Harold Budd piano piece.

The only thing on here that approaches ear-wormy is the relatively short opener Dx-Snth, a simply bit of calming ambient pad drone that builds towards a pleasant peak. Indeed, this piece did get a little compilation love, including appearing on an Autumn Of Communion mix for A Strangely Isolated Place. Yep, it's a seal of approval from one of ambient techno's contemporary tastemakers, so if that's not enough to get you itchin' to check Vrs-Mbnt-Pcs 9598 II, I don't know what will.