Motionfield - A Clear Horizon

...txt: 2019

Here we go. No more of these loose, conceptual, 'music for its own sake' albums from Motionfield. A clear theme, with a clear musical journey in mind. I kid, of course, Mr. Friberg's discography filled with such releases. It was just a coincidence that the first two I happened to check out from his project weren't. Jury's still out if Cryonics will fit that bill, but alphabetical stipulation has put that one just a little further down the queue.

Actually, claiming A Clear Horizon has a clear theme may be a bit of a stretch, as we're still dealing with a mostly ambient drone album. Still, the cover art is stark in imagery, port-side industry obscured by fog invoking all sorts of melancholic thoughts. The associative photography is no less bleak in its grayscale, though the inlay does offer a distant sunset, a bit of blood orange piercing the muted blues. Or is it a sunrise? Mmm, pretty sure the former. And ooh, what's this written? A special thanks to Gier Jenssen and Peter Kaulmann? Aw dawg, does this mean A Clear Horizon is gonna' get down to some classic Fires Of Ork vibes?

Well, no, but I do detect some Biosphere influence, if not in structure, then at least in tone. The titular opener offers a low hearbeat of a rhythm as gentle, gradual layers of synth pad drone paint a tranquil, if chilly atmosphere. If that does get your Substrata memories triggered, I don't know what will. Follow-up Ominous starts appropriately enough with the sounds of cold wind whipping through desolate frozen vistas, soon joined by another sustained synth pad, though broken and disjointed, as though even music itself is turned brittle by the environment. Golden follows suite with the subtle songcraft, another track slowly building tension with harmonic timbre, some field recordings and soft pitter-patter rhythm maintaining a languid momentum.

In describing 'what happens' for each subsequent track, I feel I'll just be repeating myself. Much like Signals though, there are enough sonic differences between them that things don't go repetitive while listening. Visions goes gentle and peaceful (with a little added movie dialog, yay!); Home brings back the heartbeat ambient techno rhythm, with added static fuzz; The Drift gets in on some of that Silent Season dubby timbre; Rest allows its synths to sweep rather than drone; Without Wind gets back to the industrial desolation, distant echoes of a port working in cold clime's.

Yeah, 'chilly' is a good way to describe this outing from Motionfield, especially in contrast to the warmth of Luftrum. I'd get those feels even without the cover art, though it certainly does wonders in getting you into that frame of mind. Not that I doubted he'd be apt in this style of ambient, what with previous albums titled The Sound Of Snow and Northern Lights. Not to mention that Cyronics CD, sitting in my 'To Review' queue. Gosh, are those mini-icicles hanging off of it?

Lucette Bourdin - Breath Of Grace

Dark Duck Records/Fantasy Enhancing: 2012

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

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

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

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

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

Private Mountain - Blue Mountain

Neotantra: 2019

Fun thing about following labels will always be discovering new artists. True, I get these Neotantra albums because my OCD compels me to grab the gradient cover art, lest my CD collection look incomplete, but the music's usually pretty darn good too. And while many familiar names have released here, several more are complete blanks to me, my purchasing decision little more than having a good hunch over some audio clips. So it went with Private Mountain, a name I'd never seen before, but ooh, that's some nice, soothing, minimalist ambience coupled with field recordings. Sure, I'll give it a go.

Then I look into the names behind the moniker, ones Dimitar Dodovski and Toni Dimitrov. I'd love to claim I recognized them straight-off, but no way I could have, even if I have encountered Dimitar before. In fact, the project he was on was quite instrumental in opening the doors to where my ambient techno interests currently lie. It was a pairing with a chap by the name of Lee Norris, under the pseudonym Moss Garden.

Yeah, that Moss Garden. You'll forgive me for not immediately remembering that factoid, for Mr. Dodovski's career was still in a relatively embryonic stage back then. He's put out much music since though, including a team-up with Toni and Martin Geogrievski as Post Global Trio. They've put out some half-dozen albums now, but on the side Dimitar and Toni started another project as Private Mountain, this here Blue Mountain the debut.

Taking in some Post Global Trio works for a frame of reference, I can confidently claim that Private Mountain sounds quite similar, just lacking any rhythmic momentum. The abstract ambience, the immersive field recordings, the hazy feelings of memories past, wandering back road regions in solitude. Like, a hillside path, all to yourself. I just find it amusing that two-thirds of a mostly ambient project took it upon themselves to make extra-ambient music.

Opener Ainmount 1 mostly maintains a fuzzy, day-glo vibe, while Ainmount 2 opts for more night-time tranquility, a surprising contrast so early in the album. Usually you wait for the end to go twilight. The titular third cut really gets my Andrew Heath triggers going, early dronescapes gradually melting into sounds of idling about cottage dwellings. Just A Strange World gets a little fancier with the drone effects, while the eponymous track (longest at over twelve minutes) gives more of a Boards Of Canada interlude vibe. If BoC ever included sounds of running water while exploring deep caverns, sounds echoing across damp stone walls, that is. A tidy, tranquil closer in Coming Back Home wraps things up, and if you don't feel utterly blissed out after listening to Blue Mountain, I really don't know what else to say.

I suppose the only quibble I can offer is this album's rather short. Six tracks, only half of which break six minutes, doesn't feel long enough wandering this mountain. Pretty sure I said the same of Moss Garden too, heh.

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...

Lucette Bourdin - Ancient Memories

Dark Duck Records/Fantasy Enhancing: 2008/2021

So I got a box of Bourdin.

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

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

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

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

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

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.

ASC - The Waves

Silent Season: 2019

I've already blagged on about the wild notion that ASC has racked up multiple ambient albums. Heck, I was astounded by the few he'd released by 2015's Fervent Dream, and Mr. Clements hasn't stopped, pretty much every long-player of his now exploring beatless music. At first I thought, well, that's just what he releases through Silent Season. Surely whatever gets promoted via his own Auxiliary brings the d'n'b or even dub techno (as you do), but nope. You have to go to labels like Horo and Samurai Music to find that (not to mention the oodles of ASC EPs still delivering the broken-beat business abroad).

All well and good then, James finding multiple outlets for his various muses now. I'm not that surprised his past decade of music-making has led to this. No, what's flummoxing my brainpan now is somehow, someway, ASC has become Silent Season's lone Ambient Guy.

And you may ask, how is that possible? There's plenty of artists on the label that offer chill dronescapes with their dub techno beats. Absolutely there are, but in all that time, no other artist has released as many LPs of straight-up ambient music, and nothing but straight-up ambient music. That officially makes ASC their Ambient Guy, all the more remarkable considering James had been a fairly dedicated jungle guy before hooking up with Silent Season.

The Waves marks his sixth outing with the label now, this time an exploration of all things aquatic. Well, maybe not all things, but a pretty good range of regions. From the oceanic surface of the Surface Blue, the the blackest depths of the Hadal Zone, trenches deeper than the abyssal plain. What unfathomable horrors dwell in such unforgiving regions, such that not even the dreaded hagfish wanders forthwith? Slugs, mostly. Some shrimp, probably. Plus that one show-off fish that survives where nothing that size should. Always that one fish...

The music within does impart a sense of gently drifting through various wonders and splendours. From surveying towering Seamounts, to foraging through a mysterious Kelp Forest. Even making one feel nestled within the mechanical confines of a deep sea probe in Echo Location, all the while strange, lovely, bio-luminescent critters float by. Elsewhere, pieces like Nautical Depths, Marine Layer, and Ocean Shadow imparts feelings of isolation, lost adrift in an endless void, but not so cold as space drone goes. No, you still feel the warm embrace of life all around you, but just out of sight, only detectable by those with senses adapted to this aquatic realm. Oh, what wondrous creatures we may see in such- Ahh! A vampire squid!

So another excellent album of ambient from ASC. It almost seems too easy for him now. Is it just a higher batting average because these albums come out on Silent Season? A case of a prestigious label getting the best of what an artist can offer because of the associative rep? May need to scope out his Auxiliary outings to confirm.

Ambidextrous - Vision By Zero

Neotantra: 2019

Oh dear. Oh dear, oh me. When last I talked up Ambidextrous (also the first time), I made mention of wanting his Carpe Sonum Records album Geek Mythology, and now I've done missed my chance, the CD selling out. Sure, I can always pick up a digital version, but man, I never thought Carpe Sonum would run out of stock. On a typical ambient techno label, limited runs are often the norm, interest in the genre remaining rather niche to this day. Carpe Sonum though, they always have copies available through their Bandcamp. Some Autumn Of Communion associated stuff from way back, an Aythar and Motionfield release, that's about it for stock going dry. Maybe I need to get on that drøn CD before it's too late!

I bring this up because in the short time since I reviewed Echoes Of Science (two years is a short time, yes?), it feels like Nick Zavriev's stock has significantly risen. It's certainly deserved, Ambidextrous doing a retro ambient techno stylee that sounds quite modern on the production front. It also explains why Geek Mythology sold out on a label where sold out CDs are rare, so by gosh, y'all better get on anything else released under the Ambidextrous banner before they run out too. Oh no, a release on Neotantra now, where the colour-gradient nature of their cover art triggers one's OCD? The FOMO is real!

Jokes aside, I was quite excited to hear Vision Of Zero, enamoured by Echoes Of Science as I was. Oddly, I've kind of drawn a blank on that album now, maybe over my pining for Geek Mythology ever since. In any case, that has little to do with this record, as Vision Of Zero is a different outing compared to those two.

My assumption that Neotantra is the label ambient techno producers go to indulge their experimental side remains confirmed here, as Nick has crafted a beatless affair of subtle ambient pad work and freeform sound collages. Four lengthy tracks make up Vision Of Zero, with the first three almost forming a singular outing in of itself. Seriously, if you aren't paying attention – and the calming nature of these pieces certainly encourages a drifting sense of consciousness – you'll never notice the brief moment of silence marking each transition. There are attributes between them making each unique: the sampled conversations of Where Are You, the backing synth pads having more prominence in Mind Games Arena, the outworldly feel of Unspoken Word. Okay, all these have an 'outwordly feel', like you're wandering realms of lucidity, but more so there than the others.

Which pale compared to Salvador Ali, the nineteen-minute closer. Every piece had an askew, yet tranquil atmosphere about it, but things apparently go pear-shaped at the end of this sonic journey, with spits of harsh static, abrasive dub, disembodied chants, and even klaxons overtaking the gentle ambience struggling to make itself heard. Dammit, and I was having such a lovely dream too.

Purl & protoU - Sub Life

Dronarivm: 2019

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

Motionfield - Signals

Neotantra: 2019

When I said, “Then suddenly, Motionfield”, I wasn't just talking about his music within my CD collection. The year 2019 saw him release three albums in the span of six months, a remarkable feat considering he'd only released one since his debut on Carpe Sonum Records four years prior (a self-released one at that). Not that Petter Friberg hadn't been productive before. Even in his obscure '00s days, he'd put out at least one album per year. With greater exposure comes greater inspiration (so long as one doesn't suffer from crippling anxiety), a chance to spread your muse abroad. So what better way to do so than offering up albums on the primary movers and shakers of your selected scene?

Actually, it isn't quite right to call Neotantra one of ambient techno's Big Labels in 2019, having just launched and all. For sure it carried a strong pedigree being a sub-label of Fantasy Enhancing, itself an off-shoot of Lee Norris' long running (if somewhat static) Neo Ouija. And as has been abundantly clear on this bloggy-bloog of mine, that's a pretty good pedigree indeed. Sure had to be tempting for many artists to get in at ground zero, especially those looking to establish more presence among dedicated music collectors.

So Motionfield sends his Signals through Neotantra, and according to Yage_2097 of the Discogs Community, it's among the 150 Best Of 2019 of The World's Greatest Ever Electronic Music Albums. Eeh, maybe need to pare that down a little. Misters Jazzual and dove_m have it in their Top 25. Ahh, better.

As for myself, I cannot deny being a little apprehensive going into this. I quite liked Luftrum, and the other albums I've picked up from Motionfield seem to have clear themes behind them. 'Signals' could be anything though, music making for its own sake. When it comes to ambient, that often translates to a lot of ephemeral fluff, pleasant as it plays but never really sticking to the memory membranes after. Well, I certainly don't have to worry about that with Signals 1. Despite a generally tranquil, dubbed-out, almost 'hauntology' backing pad work, that low bass tone always has me adjusting my speakers, lest I royally piss off my neighbours. Signals 7 too, though by the time that one comes on, I'm usually too zonked out on mental bliss to care.

Yeah, Signals is one of those albums that feels almost too calm, ambient music where there's interesting things going on with the drone tone, static glitch, and subtle looping melodies, but man, do I ever zone out on it. Individually, all these Signals are quite lovely, some even inching towards 36 levels of opulent feels (Signals 6, 8, and 10), if not in sheer musical weight.

Unfortunately, as I worried, the lack of a specific theme among these tracks does tend to blend them together, and that's when it can even hold my attention for the duration. Such an odd thing, enjoying an album that doesn't stay with you.

Darren McClure - On Opposites

Neotantra: 2019

I've mentioned before that Darren McClure is something of a label journeyman, almost never releasing more than one item on any given print. The only exception Lord Discogs lists is an EP and a collaborative album with José Soberanes on Éter Editions. So it continues with Neotantra, as obvious a label he'd find his way on as any these days. 'Cause when you're down with the Lee Norris fam', you get all the sweet label bumps. Seriously, someone really ought to create an interconnecting chart with Mr. Norris at the centre of it all, just to discover how far reaching his influence stretches. Like, it wouldn't be Brian Eno levels of convolution, but at least on par with a top tier hip-hop producer.

Anyhow, On Opposites is Mr. McClure's contribution to Neotantra, and I cannot deny, there's little I've heard like how this one plays out. Yeah, yeah, I say that often, but seriously, there's something remarkably unique about this album. Even when I think there's some other producer's influence sneaking in (Strange Slip In Time had my John Beltram triggers flaring), I struggle placing this album in any tidy compartment.

Part of it is there's such diversity going on here, I sometimes forget this is all the work of one man as things play out. Many artists show off musical variety within their LPs, but they typically have a specific aesthetic tying everything together. Darren practically pulls a one-eighty with each track here, a pleasant melodic number followed upon by an experimental dark drone piece. Opposites indeed.

If there's any unifying theme with On Opposites, it's sonic exploration in unknown territory. Not that the sounds Darren uses are terribly unique, but it does feel like I'm excavating some future-shock archaeological discovery. Otaru Box and Strange Slip In Time are bright and spritely, like benign reflections of what once was. Meanwhile, Reflecting and Charmonia feature a low, thrumming pulses, like ancient machinery breathing, as distant airy synth pads paint pictures of a lost civilization farther advanced than we could comprehend. To say nothing of the straight-up field recordings of Snow Lapse, where something is literally being excavated (Geir Jenssen would approve). Elsewhere, Darren shows off his more experimental side, but never indulges things for long, serving more as sonic respites. Yes, even the six-minute long Slow Juno, essentially nothing more than perpetually layering synth drone, and unlike anything else on this album.

Are all of Mr. McClure's albums like this? The couple I've taken in were collaborations (with Porya Hatami and Lee Norris as Memex), so I don't have the strongest frame of reference there. I did dabble some samples of his other releases, but clearly it didn't leave the same impression as On Opposites has. I'm almost afraid to check them out, unsure if they could top the weird, captivating journey this one took me on. While not every track is a winner, it certainly kept my interest in whatever different turn it might take me on.

36 - The Lower Lights

3six Recordings: 2019

Wot d'is, then? Even more 36 music, a double-LP at that? Is there any limit to how much material Dennis Huddleston can kick out anymore? Well, sure there is – he isn't Merzbow or something of the like. If inspiration remains hot, however, may as well continue capitalizing on it.

Unlike most of the other items I've covered from him, this particular album didn't have a particular theme in mind. Rather, it's a series of sonic sketches and ideas explored over a period of a year (an 'audio diary', Dennis called it while releasing them on Patreon), freeform music making at its purest. And you might be thinking, gosh, aren't there a bunch of those already in the 36 discography? Of a sort, sure, like those Version rubs he did for the Sine Dust sessions, but that was still working from an original concept. Nothing of the sort exists with The Lower Lights, each piece created as it came to him, with no thoughts of how it may fit within a broader, thematic album context. Ah, so it's like that Nine Inch Nails Ghosts album, then? Yes, yes it is, Mister somehow talking to me as I write this. I mean, obviously it's not exactly like Ghosts - ain't no harsh guitar tone going on here – but the core approach remains the same.

So seems like a fun concept for an album, and it certainly resulted in plenty of music. When The Lower Lights was initially released, the tracklist was culled down to just ten tracks, making it easier to fit on the spiffy vinyl option. Why let all those sessions go to waste though, so Beneath The Lower Lights gathered up the remaining pieces for a cassette release. And now, with all the music available, here's a nineteen tracker for the digital version. Um, oh dear, that might actually be a bit too much for one sitting.

The thing about 36's music is it can be rather draining. He seldom holds back on laying the emotions on, which can be a turn-off for those who prefer more subtlety in their ambient dronescapes. His albums understand this balancing act quite well, a run of major emotional pieces followed by some downtime to recharge. As these Lower Lights tracks weren't crafted with that in mind, hearing them all play out one after the other, relentlessly bombarding you with sweeping synths, unfortunately grows tiresome. It isn't until the Beneath... pieces that things taper off some, and only three tracks of which I'd consider 'soothing', one of which being the closer Signing Off at number nineteen.

There are variations among all the tracks – some even have rhythms in them! It's just the lack of any structure or narrative in their presentation that leaves me longing for the concise nature of a Void Dance or Black Soma (or even Dreamloops). Which, again, was the point of The Lower Lights' exercise. Maybe should have stuck with separate releases.

Frame - The Journey

Glacial Movements Records: 2019

No way I could resist an album like this. The cover art alone invokes so many sonic possibilities, all of them frigid, remote, isolated, and barren – perfect summer music! And gosh, it looks like the whole label is like this, with familiar names like Rapoon, bvdub, Chihei Hatakeyama, Scanner, and Skare. Hello, my new obsession!

With no frame of reference, I went into this one cold (puns for days!). Doing a little background reading wouldn't have helped much anyway, this being Frame's lone entry within Lord Discogs' tomes. The players involved have been around many, many years though, with releases dating back to the early '90s. Andrea Benedetti was among the earliest adopters of Detroit techno out of Italy, heading up a few labels in support of such sounds at the time. He's also released sporadic material as Sprawl, but it seems DJing has been his primary passion. His Frame partner, Eugenio Vatta, has even less info on his Discogs page, but apparently has worked with Andrea since ye' olden days as well, skint though those releases are.

Apparently Frame is something of a long-running live P.A. project of improvised gigs performed at artsy shows. They never committed anything to CD, figuring the spontaneity of a live performance couldn't be replicated within a studio. That didn't stop them from recording many sessions though, building up a library of material for possible consideration. Thus it turned out with The Journey, an attempt at creating some sort of narrative from these disparate performances.

Ah, a journey as in the journey Andrea and Eugino have taken as Frame over the years? Sort of, but that'd make for a boring concept album. Ah, so a journey to the frozen clime's of our planet, as indicated on the cover art? No, not that either. Going by the tracklist, this is nothing less than a journey to the cosmic reaches of... just our solar system. Well hey, plenty to explore here.

Truthfully though, Frame opts for the ultra-minimalist scenic tour. Often played real quietly too. Things start out rather typically for a dark drone outing, Mercury imparting a foreboding tone, while Venus brings in creepy, echoing rattlers while static hisses in the background. Almost feels like you're in a steamy, sticky hot jungle, which kinda' makes sense for the Hell planet.

Things go extremely minimal after that though. Heck, most of Mars' eight-minute runtime is just a sustained tone (oddly relaxing mood for the War planet). From there, a lot of abstraction, a lot of experimentation, all played impossibly quiet, such that the sounds often fade into whatever background ambience surrounds you. Yes, even when played on headphones – the sound of your own heart beating may be louder than some of this stuff. It's not until Neptune that something harmonic emerges, with synth pads gradually building, while Pluto And Charon goes more industrial. And hey, The Arrival finally gives us some actual melody! Hoo boy, what a journey to get to it though.

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?

ProtoU - Echoes Of The Future

Cryo Chamber: 2018

I've fallen way behind on this label. You may think two years isn't much of a gap, but Cryo Chamber remains relentless in its rate of output, over fifty albums Simon Heath's print has produced since I last splurged. It ain't for a lack of interest. Even glancing at their recent releases, there's a pile of items immediately catching my eye. Some things gotta' take a backseat though, and it'd be silly of me to snatch up a pile of new albums when I'm still sifting through the ones I picked up last time. Okay, maybe that new Sabled Sun CD, at the very least.

Even ProtoU, I feel like I've slipped on. She was among a handful of artists I'd kept pace with when she first debuted with Dronny Darko on Earth Songs. The streak was broken in my missing The Edge Of Architecture, and though I got her next two albums, she's released two more since. I think the only Cryo Chamber project I have gathered all releases of is Sabled Sun, which seems appropriate, given it was that project that lured me in the first place.

Sasha's hinted at an interest in leaving our earthly realms in her Stardust collaboration with Alphaxone, but Echoes Of The Future is a full-blown cosmic outing. Okay, not quite, more of a launching, as the remnants of whatever civilization remains on our planet hopefully seeks a better life than what they leave behind. Not that the 'music' within is explicit about it – not even the track titles are clear in their narrative. Nay, I had to scope out the Bandcamp PR blurb for the the album's concept. Even if some of these pieces are interesting in their own right, it helps having full thematic context when hearing atonal drone.

The first couple tracks are fairly typical of dark drone, though Interlinked fades out with the sounds of radio chatter, like receiving transmissions from abroad. 4325d shifts gears (heh) into the mechanical, as though you're wandering launch pads devoid of humans, yet filled with giant sentinels waiting to be sent to the stars, steam and fog gently floating from their frames. There's a sense of subtle awe in your surroundings, but sadness too.

Mid-track Drawings Of Nebula marks a sharp turn in choice of soundscape, a heavy synth drone almost pushing down on your ears. It carries on like this for a while, though once again, voices from beyond are heard as the track fades out. The next two tracks mostly get back to the dark dronescapes with some field recordings flourishes, though I can't help but zone out while they're playing. Vessels Of God, on the other hand, brings in a mournful melody that wouldn't sound too out of place in a 36 ambient piece. True, there's a fair amount of static and astro-chatter distortion, especially towards the end when the melody is practically subsumed by it. Still, a surprisingly hopeful ending to a generally bleak album.

False Mirror - Derelict World

Malignant Records: 2010

If you must point to any album that sparked my interest in dark ambient beyond passive curiosity, it's this one right here. Prior, I figured the genre consisting of either macabre industrial horror or suffocating existential drone (with some pagan ethereal worship thrown in). If you'd told me the scene also contained reflections on post-apocalyptic settings... Well, I'd have believed you too, since that seems right up the genre's wheel-house. Okay, okay, but what if... with landlocked seacraft? Ooh, now that's something super specific I'd never considered. You're telling me there's music that contrasts our engineering triumphs with our apocalyptic hubris, a perfect soundtrack for traversing the Aral Sea region? Tell me more!

Still, if the cover-art of Derelict World captivated me so, why has it taken me this long to review it? Wouldn't this have been among my first purchases? Yeah, funny thing happened, mostly by way of a Cryo Chamber. This album may have sparked my interest, but it wasn't until indulging Simon Heath's print that I actually started buying up dark ambient releases. By then, I'd forgotten about the intriguing CD with the captivating artwork, who it was from, where I even last saw it. Many years passed before it finally crossed my eyes again, wherein I'd taken in a fair bit of the stuff from various corners. It felt like obligatory duty to get Derelict World by that point, whether it was good or not.

Fortunately, it is good. As False Mirror, Tobias Hornberger had released a few albums throughout the late '00s, including dataObscura (and there's the reconnect). When he got the chance to debut on long running industrial print Malignant Records, he didn't hold back in creating nothing less than a magnum opus. Well, something with an immersive narrative at least. The concept is simple enough: the end of the world, a torrential cataclysm of predictive but unknown origin, and its aftermath. Is it though? While the track titles and prose within the liner notes imply as such, perhaps this is more of a psychological horror. I sure had images of The Lighthouse floating about my head-space as Derelict World was playing. Probably because part of the album's narrative includes finding refuge in an abandoned lighthouse. Or is it?

Musically, Derelict World is all about that omnipresent drone-tone, varying intensity and mood as the story unfolds, with field recordings filling in the gaps. Given the cover art, it's surprising hearing so much water dripping and sloshing about hollowed husks of metallic dwellings, especially in the final stretch of tracks. Final piece, The Sea Of Oblivion, is quite fascinating, drones gradually fading off until all you hear is the quiet lapping of small waves against the shore. It plays out like this for many minutes, to such a point you may not even notice it any longer. After a while, a gentle dirge emerges, as though our viewpoint character has found solace in whatever realm they now dwell. I've had dreams like this.

Purl - Deep Ground

Silent Season: 2011

Now this was fortuitous of me, finding an O.G. CD of not only any ol' Silent Season release, but a Purl one at that. Mind, this isn't one of the label's initial run of CDs, lacking their distinct gatefold design with recycled cardboard casing. Far as I can tell, this album came out with the launch of Silent Season's 'download series' (hence catalogue numbers being SSDxx), so it makes sense they'd spend less effort on a CD option. Wasn't the label mostly a digital one in the first place though? I guess, but growing positive buzz at the start of the '10s probably spurred on a little re-launch in the process.

All well and good for Silent Season, but there's a nice additional talking point to this CD where Purl is concerned, in that it's his first album to receive the CD treatment at all. True, it was just his third LP released, but for a chap who's put out a couple dozen albums this past decade, hard copy editions remain rare, especially the earlier half of his career. In fact, he never put out another CD until his Silent Season follow-up Stillpoint (so sayeth Lord Discogs). As his profile has grown, Purl's expanded his reach across more labels that do offer physical options, making these initial steps beyond the only-digital realm nifty little artifacts of a discography on the rise. So goes the line of marketing in the collector's world anyway.

And what sort of sounds may we find on Ludvig's debut Silent Season outing? Dub techno and ambient drone of course – it's the label's brand, after all. That may not seem such a big deal since it's familiar ground where Purl music is concerned, but his prior couple albums had been mostly pure ambient exercises with dubby overtones. Rhythms were not really part of his repertoire yet.

On Deep Ground however, he goes all out, unleashing the fiercest, freshest beats that- No, not really. First proper track Sus is actually quite laid back, a distant techno rhythm gliding along a gentle backing synth, sounding not too out of place on an old Aphex Twin collection. Elsewhere, Storisende feels almost proggy with its comparatively prominent chugging rhythm, its backing layered pads no less blissy than anything else in Purl's discography.

The over-arching influence of dub techno couldn't be ignored though, and Under Trädens Rötter sounds like it could have come from one of Wolfgang Voigt's Gas sessions, though more mysterious than ominous. Sargyll, meanwhile, goes real deep into the dub muck, its rhythm barely a low thrum as sound echo off cavernous spaces.

It's not all dub techno, half of Deep Ground made up of ambient pieces of varying length (shortest: three, thirty-three; longest: ten, thirty-nine). They're all nice affairs, typical of Purl's style at the time, but oddly sequenced, making the album's flow a little wonky in the process. By no means a deal breaker though, Deep Ground definitely worth scoping out among Purl's many LPs.

Circle Of Pines - Dark Water Pond

Dark Winter/Neotantra: 2006/2019

When Neotantra first sprung up, I didn't think it'd include re-issues. The original Dark Water Pond came out some thirteen years ago, a seemingly lost digital release on a somewhat forgotten dark ambient net label. Not that Dark Winter doesn't have its share of recognizable names, but this is the sort of story you might expect out of Reverse Alignment or Dronarivm, not Neotantra. What gives?

At first I figured Circle Of Pines was somehow connected to Lee Norris, since everything tends to come back to him with his labels. Sleuthing about Discogs, however, I couldn't find any significant links. Consisting of Nathan Larson (manager of Dark Winter) and Seetyca, the duo only released a few albums under this alias, one of which ended up on one of those ...txt Nagual collections. Yes, the full album, Insistence Of Memory a single long-form composition, which fits easily when your physical release is a memory stick. That itself was something of a re-issue too, first appearing on Atmoworks seven years prior to Nagual 2. That is the only connection I can find linking Circle Of Pines to Lee Norris, and not a solid one at that since Lee never appeared on that label. Some associates and shared-label chaps have though (ISHQ, Vir Unis, Steve Brand), so there's that connection. It's the only one I can find, but who knows, maybe someone at Neotantra just really, really, really vibes on that Circle Of Pines stylee.

I should get more into who's behind this project, but honestly, I'd be here forever. While Nathan's released a fair chunk of material as Bunk Data and Samsa through his own Dark Winter, Seetyca has been relentless. Lord Discogs lists over eighty items to his name, and that's not even getting into side-projects like Serifenlose and International Spaceweather Orchestra (cool name, that). Okay, there isn't that much more, but geez'it, look at all those collaborations too. Dude's a busy-body, is what I'm sayin'.

Enough of all that. How is Dark Water Pond, and if it is indeed dark ambient, how can it possibly fit in with the drone glitch and ambient techno a Lee Norris label typically peddles? Well, if the title alone doesn't put you into an appropriate mood, opener Lichen Ritual definitely will. There's all the hallmarks of vintage dark ambient: sombre melody played at low volume, omnipresent drone creating a sense of claustrophobia, creepy field recordings echoing off caverns or catacombs. Are we sure this isn't a Cryo Chamber outing?

Pretty sure, as lengthy track Down To The Dreamy Sky features bleepy noises closer in kin to techno than gothic horror. Zerfrorenes Glas has a dubby synth echoing from the distance. Final piece Fissures feels more angelic than oppressive. Hey, it's something.

Nay, Dark Water Pond is a dark ambient album through and through, and good on Neotantra's risk taking so early in its life-cycle. Be interesting to hear just how far off the traditional 'Lee Norris Label' mould they may go.