Lucette Bourdin - Nordic Waves Vol. 3: Summer

Dark Duck Records/Fantasy Enhancing: 2012/2021

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

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

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

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

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

Lucette Bourdin - Nordic Waves Vol. 1: Winter

Dark Duck Records/Fantasy Enhancing: 2011/2021

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

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

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

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

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

Rapoon - Navigating By Colour

Soleilmoon Recordings: 1999

Feels like this has been a long time coming, but I finally get to talk about a vintage Rapoon album! Okay, I've only really been covering the chap for half a decade now, just four albums worth in that time. And even with that scant selection, Mr. Storey's muse has proven a wildly divergent one indeed, such that you'd be hard-pressed to point to any singular sound as That Definitive Rapoon Stylee.

Heck, I'm sure many folks would claim I've already done so, what with having reviewed Vernal Crossing and all. I'll grant his fusion of primal loops with industrial ambient gave Rapoon a significant boost in profile, especially in the wake of his Zoviet France days. Still, it wasn't that sound that first lured me in, but rather a more typical techno approach to the craft. There's still the endless loops and layered dub, just done in a more thumping sort of way. And now with Navigating By Colour, I've finally landed upon an album that delivers it in... well, a couple tracks worth, at least.

First, how does Navigating By Colour fall within the greater Rapoon lexicon. Hell if I know, but here's a basic rundown. Released on Soleilmoon Recordings (where other sonic terrorists like Muslimgauze, Merzbow, and Coil have been comfy), packaged with a dozen postcards featuring art similar to that on the CD slipcase. A real collector's item, this, and by extension not an easy album to find via your usual modern outlets. I feel I lucked out on even finding a seller for this at all, postcards included, but so it goes some days on the Discogs Marketplace.

Opener Blue Hemisphere is the sort of Rapoony music I was introduced to, a brisk rhythm with layered operatic drones ebbing and flowing as things play out. So simple, yet so seductive, losing one's psyche into pure tribalism. Midway through the album, Red Hemisphere gets deeper into the drumming, such that the dub effects morph just as much as the backing pad work. There isn't much else on Navigating by Colour with featured rhythms, though From This Point... does loop mechanical chugging and churning into a rhythm onto itself.

Mostly though, we're in industrial drone territory with this album. Some pieces, like Prussian and Imagine, get weirdly abstract with bits of spoken dialog and layered vocal tones, while The Last Gladding Tide and Winter Shields edge closer to the realms of modern classical. Cerulean and Sienna are pure concrete grinders though, and Eden's Plains is even more punishing in its dark isolationism. Alizarin gets all noisy towards the end of its ten-minute run, and by jove, I do believe we've run the gamut of what one might expect out of a Rapoon joint. If you were expecting anything at all, that is.

Which is half the fun with artists like these, isn't it? Sure, you may have an inkling what to expect, but they'll almost always surprise you just the same.

Lucette Bourdin - The Mystery Of The Midnight Sun

Fantasy Enhancing: 2006/2021

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

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

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

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

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

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

Encym - Music For Meditation

Neotantra: 2020

Yep, another Neotantra release. Just how many more of these do I have? Not many, though there is a whole box-set lurking further down the queue, so y'all have that to look forward to. Honestly though, I haven't gotten anything new from the label in over a year now, mostly because much of their recent output has been re-issues of Lee Norris back-catalogue. It's honestly a bit weird seeing items like Spacebound and In The Silence Of The Subconscious now on Neotantra, having long ago gathered them on other labels like ...txt and Carpe Sonum Records. Some things like Autumn Of Communion and Understanding Holy Ghosts re-appearing on Fantasy Enhancing, I get, but why not Alien or Abandoned Communities or The Longing Daylight? I'm sure there's a method to Mr. Norris' selection process, but bully me if I can figure it.

Anyhow, Encym. As is too often the case with these Neotantra releases, this artist is a total blank within the Discoggian archives. Music For Meditation is his lone album, though has made numerous compilation appearances in recent years, including plenty on Neotantra's various Tʌntrə compilations (which I never indulge in because each volume drops so-o-o-o- much music that I really, really, really fear having to write reviews on). Basically, one working his way from the minor leagues, finally getting his chance on the main-bench rotation. Sorry, this sports analogy sucks, but 'tis the season where all the sports be sportsing.

Anyhow, Mr. Encym does have a Bandcamp, where a whole bunch more music can be found, with links to all other manner of social media. He self-describes as an ambient jazz bass player, which may have your Bill Laswell triggers flaring, but that's alright. Listening to Music For Meditation, I can totally hear some Laswellian influences and connections. Though really, one could toss a rock in Bill's direction and land on any number of musical associations, his sonic reach as vast as it is.

Let me straight up say not everything on here is 'meditation worthy'. Pieces like Imbued, Quietude, and Traffic Kng feature some rather harsh tones and over-cranked dub effects, not exactly the sort of music best suited for relaxing For sure they're interesting sonic experiments to listen to – if anything, Encym knows how to engage the listener in his freeform music making, especially with a good set of headphones on your head (*cough*). At no point was I bored by what I was hearing, enjoying the variety, even if some portions came off more confrontational than others.

That said, there are some lovely pieces of ambient dub and bass tone drone throughout this album. The titular cut is pure minimalist calm, New River and The Wakening Of The Sky are almost playful in its ebb and throes of layered dub pads, while London Departures is the sort of tranquil ambient drone that makes perfect sense watching the sun slowly rise over rolling country-side hills. From within a moving vehicle, that is.

ASC & Inhmost - The Moons Of Saturn

Auxilary: 2021

I'd been wanting to splurge on a little more non-Silent Season ASC for a while, but the right album to break me never quite materialized. Even Trans-Neptunian Objects, though a sexy temptation, wasn't enough to lure me into more of Mr. Clements' muse. As soon as The Moons Of Saturn dropped, however, there was no holding me back. Without so much as a second thought, I snapped that album up, along with a handful of other titles that caught my interest. Like, Saturn has a lot of moons, so this would have to be nothing less than a quadruple-LP extravaganza to do the concept justice, right?

Well, not quite. James and Simon Huxtable (returning as Inhmost) set their sonics to only seven bodies of the Saturnian system, appropriate ambient drone pieces playing out as though you're taking in their vistas. Opener Symphony Of Rhea has a suitably mysterious aire about it, as though enrapturing you into solving one of its greater mysteries: whether a tenuous ring system once orbited the icy moon. Man, just think about that, a ring system around a moon of the planet most famous for its own ring system – it's ringception! I do have to say though, this piece has a lot of washed-out drone-dub going on too, making me feel more like we're hanging out on the water coasts of planet Earth. Or maybe the methane coasts of Titan.

Speaking of, Sunrise On Titan follows, and while the track maintains the mysterious tone, it's more spacious in its timbre, almost warm. Okay, I know 'warmth' is relative when it comes to these bodies on the outer regions of the solar system, but I wasn't expecting quite this sort of soothing calm. How would one even see a sunrise on Titan anyway? The sun's already but a bright point of light that far out, so ain't no way one could see it through all that moon's chemical smog.

Storm On Tethys comes next and... okay, I have to pause the review for a moment. There's no atmosphere on Tethys, so there can be no storms on the moon. My suspension of common sense is completely shattered. Are ASC and Inhmost suggesting there were 'storms' after the creation of the craters Odysseus or Ithaca Chasma? I must now create a 6.3 hour long YouTube video ranting about this incongruity!

*ahem* So Storm On Tethys gets in on more of that layered dub-drone as Symphony Of Rhea, while the truly dark, mysterious Norse group moon Fenrir (not even Cassini could capture it) gets an appropriately dark, mysterious piece of cosmic ambient drone for it. Pan, The Shepherd Moon, is comparatively light and jubilant, befitting of a tiny mote of debris shaped like a flying saucer flitting among Saturn's rings.

But of course, the show-stealer, as always, is Enceladus, the glimmering moon with tantalizing geysers given a fourteen-plus minute dubby, ambient drone piece to close us out. Iapetus once again left inconsolable.

Warmth - Life

Archives: 2020

It's only appropriate the first artist album I'm covering from Archives is from Agustín Mena. Between this print and its sister one, Faint, the chap has released somewhere in the ballpark of twenty items in the past half decade, with no slowing down in sight. Granted, as the Archives headmaster, it's only natural he'd be publishing his works through them. And hey, if a pile of other artists want to join in on the fun, there's plenty of room in the digital realm. Too much, I sometimes feel. Believe me, the urge to splurge is real, but fortunately I'm too broke right now to do so.

Warmth may seem like a rather generic, bland alias for a project, but when you hear Mr. Mena's style of ambient drone, it's an incredibly apt description. Like many modern ambient composers, he has some lineage in the realm of dub techno, so shares some sonic similarities with the Silent Season continuum. Rather early on though, Agustín ditched the beats and went full-on drone, and has mostly remained there ever since.

Now, I know what you're thinking (my FitBit links me directly into your cerebellum.. oops, shouldn't have typed that out loud!): “Great, just another ambient drone artist among the hundreds to thousands already out there. Why should I bother with this one?” And I says to you, I says, I do: “BECAUSE!! It's just that damn good!”

We all know I go through a lot of ambient music. Like, a lot. Much of it, I generally enjoy, but rarely has the genre provided something that immediately grabs me and won't let go for an instant. Warmth is such an artist that accomplishes this. Right from the start on this particular album titled Life, opener Breathe lays in spacious field recordings, soft analogue fuzz, and a gently caressing melody of airy synth pads and decaying tones. So simple, yet so good!

Follow-up Safe continues with the field recordings ambience, some of which sounds like the rustling of leaves in the wind, focusing more on the layers of sonic timbre, while You're Not Here features a melancholic melody that reminds me of 36. Well, such as you can hear it, performed impossibly quiet and muffled through all manner of fuzz. Life mostly plays out in similar fashion, some tracks going more mysterious (Passage, The Mourning, Leaving), others more melodic (Roads, the titular cut). About the only real quibble I have is the whole LP runs rather short at only thirty-five minutes long, but hey, at least Warmth doesn't needlessly noodle along either.

I suppose you could also say there isn't that much difference between each piece, almost to the point Life could play out as one long composition. I honestly thought that might have been the initial intent, as the pauses between tracks on the CD seemed a little off. I then noticed there is a continuous mix version, but the pauses are there as well. Huh, not so continuous as we were led to believe.

Solipsism - Kismet

Carpe Sonum Records: 2018

So now Solipsism. Ever since I took a dive into the extended Lee Norris Ambientverse, this is a name that's floated about my periphery. Like, it's hard not to notice an alias that reminds me of some of the more tedious discussions I engaged in during university philosophy courses. Not to mention simply being a word that would leave one drenched should it be uttered by Sylvester The Cat.

Seriously though, the Craig Murphy project has existed for nearly two decades now, spending much of the '00s releasing several digital-only items on labels like Herb Recordings and Ambidextrous Records (no relation to the artist Ambidextrous). He finally landed a CD roll-out debuting on Mr. Norris' ...txt print, and the two went on to collaborate on a few more albums, sometimes as their separate aliases (Nacht Plank in Lee's case), or as a totally unique project called Ashtoreth's Gate. Hmm, name sounds dark ambientish, that one. May need to investigate further.

Anyhow, Solipsism is a project that I probably would check out proper-like at some point, should the right record entice me further. And leave it to Carpe Sonum Records to publish that CD, Kismet luring me in with yet another striking bit of geometric architecture. The blue-hued cover art didn't hurt either. As for how Mr. Murphy got his stab at a Carpe Sonum outing at all, well hey, it's right there in the title, is it not? Also, Kismet isn't actually an album, but a compilation of several previous works released under the Solipsism banner, some reaching as far back as 2008. I admit I didn't know this going in, but hey, makes for a handy sampler of his music now, and Carpe Sonum has often proven capable of weaving an artist's back catalogue into their own flowing LPs.

Even though I'm fairly certain Solipsism is an ambient artist, I wasn't sure what brand of ambient I might be in for. Considering he's worked with Nacht Plank, I was expecting a few dalliances into the more experimental side of the genre, and sure enough, a few tracks go there. Beachcomber starts out with some nice, subtle tone, but gets rather distorted towards the end. It's not nearly as annoying as The Space Between Atoms though, which doesn't waste much time before piercing your ears with quite grating noise between musique concrete transistor twerps. A shame, because the rest of that track does feature some nice, soothing passages of opulent synth drone.

Those are the only two egregious examples though, and are nicely spaced apart so it doesn't detract from Kismet's whole. Rather, the album-compilation opens with a nice, fuzzy bit of piano 'n' synth ambient in Toking Elders In Avalanche, gives us a taste of the mysterious warble-reverb in Maighdean na Tuinne, slows the pace down to contemplative reflection with Stargazer and Planes Of Existence (with extra sub-bass drone!), while Forgotten and Escape Pod takes us out in ambient grace. Yep, I'd say that covers about everything in Solipsism's oeuvre.

Various - Heights

Archives: 2020

Finally, I get to talk about Archives! Not that this Spanish ambient label is some utterly unknown entity. Nay, they've been operation for over half a decade now, steadily releasing albums at a solid clip of several items per year, with such names like Purl, Halftribe, and Gallery Six making appearances. Throw in gorgeous naturalistic cover art with each release, and you'd think Archives would be on the tips of more tongues within the ambient-o-sphere.

Honestly though, if it wasn't for the Purl connection, I probably would have completely passed Archives by. As I've said in the past, when there's so much ambient music being released by the hour, one tends to focus their interests on specific artists and labels after a while, trusted go-tos and the like. Occasionally a Discoggian dive or a spiffy write-up in a 'zine might lure you in for a closer look, but in my experience, such times are rare. We are very much creatures of habit. Maybe, if I'd happened upon the cover art at least, I'd have given Archives a shot (they are very lovely landscapes), but I haven't seen much of their output in the usual blogs and store-fronts, to say nothing of being almost a non-factor in getting attention of the Almighty Algorithm. Nope, it was strictly the fact Purl released an album on there in 2020 that I ever learned of the label at all.

With that in mind, you may expect Archives to mostly be on that slightly dubby, layered drone type of ambient business, rather like Silent Season on their beatless days. Well, I don't know about that with any authoritative measure, as I've only gotten four CDs from the label thus far. I suppose it's handy that we're starting this mini-plunge with a compilation then, a tasty appetizer of various artists on offer before taking in a proper meal.

And hoo boy, am I ever diving into the ambientia obscura here. Andrew Tasselmyer. Shuta Yasukochi. Pepo Galán. Sphereuleus. Snufmumriko. Not to say these are complete unknowns abroad – some have even made appearances on Kompakt. Out of the eleven tracks featured on Heights though, I only recognize two off-hand: Hilyard, due to her collaboration with ProtoU on Cryo Chamber; and Warmth, because he runs Archives, and thus has a ton of material on the label.

Tasselmyer's Columns opens things up, and it's a pure drone-tone piece, eventually fading off into white noise and wind. Ellis' Canyons edges closer to modern classical, gentle piano piercing dense layers of calming, dubby drone. Heights mostly flits between these styles of ambient throughout, pieces ambling along and generally maintaining a tranquil mood. While every artist does bring something unique, you probably won't notice much variation unless you're paying close attention.

And that's fine, Archives' brand of ambient clearly intent on existing as nothing more than a cleanser for your headspace. As such, you'd justly believe it'd remain overlooked and obscure, but it's just so darn good at it!

Silent Universe - Gravity

Ignis Fatum: 2015

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

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

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

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

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

Lucette Bourdin - Glimpses, Vol. 1

Dark Duck Records/Fantasy Enhancing: 2017/2021

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

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

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

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

Daar - Entire

Silent Season: 2021

Does anyone else get the sense Silent Season is slipping some? Not that I'd blame the little label from the Sunshine Coast having a fallow period. After the avalanche of activity that was the mid-'10s, however, these last couple years have been comparatively quiet. The last 'big ticket' item in their catalogue was Segue's The Island, almost three years ago now. 2021 saw just two albums released, and both quite early at that. In fact, this particular LP from Daar is already over a year old, and thus far the label's last. With a gap of fourteen months and counting, you'd be forgiven for thinking something's gone a little askew in Silent Season land. Again, maybe it's just well-deserved downtime after fifteen years in the business, but I do hope some news comes from their camps sooner rather than later.

Anyhow, Daar. One Álvaro Aragonés, there isn't much to go on from his Discoggian data. Self-released a couple albums on vinyl, plus a handful of tape singles along the way. Seems more active doing radio broadcasts out of Madrid, if his Soundcloud is anything to go by. Essentially a talent on the rise, with his debut on Silent Season possibly the greatest exposure he's yet gained abroad.

And opener Waves Your Back Describes is mostly familiar territory where this label's concerned. Dubbed-out field recordings, the sounds of tree foliage rustling as critters among the leaves chatter with each other. Waves gently lapping at shorelines, children distantly playing among themselves. And through it all, a singular synth pad glides along, imparting a feeling calming, melancholic isolation. Basically more North Shore grey, drizzly weather than Sunshine Coast. Now I feel like the cover art is what the world looks like from the inside of a bus during a heavy storm.

Follow-up Sea Wind is less heavy on the field recordings, though the odd, arrhythmic pitter-patter that opens does sound like sporadic splatter of rain dripping from an overhang. This one's mostly soft, airy pads and drones, with subtle synth pulses gradually gaining in prominence as the track plays out. Getting some major Substrata-era Biosphere out of this one. One field recording heavy Interlude later, and we're suddenly in Berlin-School territory with Mars Love. Yeah, there's some dub effects on those percolating synths, but that's about the extent of the track. Mellow Green Eyed Soul is in a similar vein, though heavier on the rhythmic aspect of the synths in use.

Another Interlude later, where the pad drone is so quiet, you'd be hard pressed to hear anything at all, and we're already in the final stretch of Entire. Gosh, did this album ever go by quick – are we sure this isn't an EP? I've sure been reviewing it as such, track-by-track and all. Anyhow, the titular tune features shimmering synth drone, a soft drum kick, and a spritely melody that's a nice contrast to the earlier moodiness. Coda is about as you'd expect, wrapping up a tidy little album from Daar.

Aythar - ElectrOcean / Winter Walk

Fantasy Enhancing: 2018/2021

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

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

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

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

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

AstroPilot - Earthwalk

AstroPilot Music: 2021

I feel I need to get this out of the way before going any further. Yes, AstroPilot is Russian. Yes, his music career has been affected by Putin's invasion of Ukraine, his country's financial system cut off from the rest of the world. Like many artists these days, much of Dmitriy's income comes from places like Bandcamp and other online streaming services, reliant on global commerce to sustain itself. Dmitriy has set up an alternate method for his fans to continue supporting his music, but I'm sure we're all hoping for an end to the insanity. I don't want this to get twisted as “yeah yeah, murdered Ukrainians, but what about the suffering RUSSIANS?” - shits fucked up enough without piling on the misery. I'm just reminded that the actions of petulant, powerful people trickles down to so many folks who just want to live their lives undisturbed by crisis.

Those cheery thoughts out of the way, let's dive into Earthwalk, the last AstroPilot album released before... all that.

For much of AstroPilot's career, he's had some sort of ambient-exploring 'walk' series running concurrent with his usual prog-psy outings. You know these as Solar Walk, because I've already reviewed three out of four of them (well, five, if you include Solar Walk III. Unseen Chapters). However, I skipped on Solar Walk IV for no better reason than holding out thinking there would be a CD version of it eventually dropping on Altar Records. Little did I know Dmitriy had moved on from Altar Records at that point - kinda' makes physical medium production difficult when one goes the digital route.

Anyhow, having spent so much time among the stars, AstroPilot decided it was time for a little stroll on good ol' terra firma, specifically inspired by the natural surroundings of Sochi. Sunrise At The Summit is about as apt a title for Earthwalk's opener as any, all grandiose synths and angelic pads beaming into your ears like the first rays of dawn. Follow-up Rhododendron goes more subtle in its synth drone, allowing the backing field recordings breathing room, drawing you into its naturalistic vibe. Oh, and the title is also apt, surprisingly capturing the essence of gazing upon bountiful clumps of colourful, blossoming shrubbery.

Most of Earthwalk plays out in similar fashion, some pieces grand and opulent (Rain Forest Dreams, A Quant Of Peace, Rain Forest, The Phantom, Pt. 2), others gentle and reflective (Floral Incantation, A Fleeting Glimpse Of Beauty, Morning Dew, Foretime). Occasionally some unique instrument like piano or acoustic guitar or crystaline bell tones will feature, but for the most part pad drones dominate, with field recordings sparsely spread throughout the layers of timbre. Very few tracks dawdle, only a couple breaching five minutes, the titular piece over seven, with the whole album cruising along at a breezy fifty minutes. Overall, a very relaxing album of music, a perfect respite for those days when the stresses of the world overwhelm. A bit too common as of late.

ASC & Inhmost - Dimensional Space

Auxiliary: 2021

Keeping pace with Mr. Clements' ambient output on Silent Season is all well and good, but I know he's released other forms of music elsewhere. If not his older d'n'b works, then maybe some of that techno shi' I've heard him rinse out live. Dude's been hawking his wares across many labels though, making it a bit of a challenge in figuring out where one should follow. I suppose his own Auxiliary is as good a place as any. Can't deny all the space themed releases are tantalizing offerings.

And... it's more ambient. Huh. Guess Silent Season isn't his sole outlet for his excursions into the beatless genre after all. Given the number of these he has released through Auxiliary, I wonder if Silent Season got all “whoa, James, we can't support that many releases from you! We barely put out a couple albums a year as it is. Maybe start your own label for that stuff?” And so he did.

Dimensional Space is one of two such albums ASC released last year, both collaborations with Inhmost. I don't know anything about this alias, though I feel like I should know the name behind the moniker, Simon Huxtable, even if few of his other projects ring a bell (Kloor, Idforma, TQ One). Aural Imbalance and Deep Space Organisms triggers something in the recesses of my memory membranes, but Lord Discogs says I've never encountered him in my own music collection. In any event, Simon seems to have followed a similar path as James, a one-time d'n'b producer who eventually started an ambient side-project. Because if they don't all end up making house or techno, there's always the ambient side-project.

For an album supposedly set among the stars, Dimensional Space is a surprisingly grounded collection of ambient drone. Or maybe that's the twist? That no matter how far into the cosmos we venture, we'll always find our way home via quantum-dimensional transwarp tube-conduits. Or in the bookshelf of your youngling daughter. God, was the ending of Interstellar ever silly. Much prefer Contact's sappy, sentimental ending, I tell ya'.

What I'm trying to say here, is there are a fair amount of field recordings utilized in these works, such that you seldom feel like you're actually out in the great beyond. For sure their use is subtle, subdued, and often so drenched in dub and reverb that they sound distant and ghostly, like faint tethers holding you to terra firma even as you venture into realms where time has no meaning.

Still, the tones are rich, the mood is grand, and the gentle melodies ebb and flow through layers of timbre and drone. Some pieces are rather mellow compared to others, but all are relatively consistent in their approach. All said, if you're familiar with his Silent Season offerings, Dimensional Space is well tread ambient songcraft from ASC, save a little more sonic room to breathe. Must be that Inhmost touch.

Motionfield - Cryonics

Neotantra: 2021

Now concluding, Motionfield. Well, no, probably not. Dude's still got a number of albums out there that I'll likely spring for at some point or other. Of that initial splurge of four, however, we've finally come to an end.

I cannot deny there's a little struggle in coming up with fresh things to say about Petter Friberg's style of ambient music. For sure it's quite lovely, soothing, haunting, and all those pretty words, and each LP has maintained their own distinct themes, but much of what I've heard has remained rather similar in execution too. It's the 36 or Alphaxone problem all over again, wherein I buy too much of an artist all at once, and exhaust all the talking points I blather on about before diving into music. Guess I outta get to that instead of wasting your time with this blathering about blather.

So Cryonics. This was the most recent record from Motionfield when I went and got a bunch of 'em, though he's since released another one called Injection. That one looks like... synthwave? Well, something future-retro, if the cover-art is to go by. Oops, don't go getting distracted by gaudy, eye-catching artwork, not when I have the pure grey Neotantra's offered in their 'let the music speak for itself' style.

Actually, with a title like Cryonics, I do expect some theme, and the opener instills a proper chilly mood to everything. Mysterious ambient drone shimmers and shatters as sparse, delicate melodies echo into the distant frozen wastes of whatever vista you find yourself upon. Part 2 shifts focus, a burbling acid bassline guiding us out among the stars, all the while the hissing of oxygen tanks remain ever present. A lonesome synth lead imparts a sense of wonder, and gosh, I'm getting serious Starstation Earth vibes on this. Well, the first half of Banco de Gaia's sci-fi epic – doubt Motionfield would unleash some world beat jams anytime soon. Either way, there's some good ol' cryo feels out of these tracks.

But I can't really say the same for much of the rest of the album. I dunno, maybe after Part 2, I thought we might be in for a deep space adventure on a sleeper ship, but the next clutch of tracks feels more grounded, open, spacious, and even, dare I say, warm. A couple pieces, like Part 4 and Part 7, make nice use of field recordings such that your part of a spring melt by way of Biosphere minimalism. Others, like Part 6, Part 8, and Part 9, feature grander synth drones, sometimes layering into an almost aggressive wall of sound. Dennis Huddleston would approve. It's not until final track Part 10 that the ambience turns crisp and cold again.

Not that I want to say Cryonics is Motionfield, erm, going through the motions. Aside from a few tracks though, this is well traversed territory for Petter. One notices such things after taking in four albums of an artist.

Various - Coercion Of Deities

Neotantra: 2021

After twenty-five releases in a mere two years, Neotantra felt it wouldn't hurt to put out a little celebratory compilation summing up their (then) current catalogue. One track per release, ranging from four minute long sonic doodles, to twenty minute long dronescapes. As you can imagine, there was no physical production of Coercion Of Deities, just a Bandcamp exclusive at whatever price you wish to donate. A label sampler then, which I don't normally bother with. If I'm browsing your print, I'm already convinced of the musical product to check out all the proper releases on offer. That's just me though, so if you've just started wondering what the deal is with Neotantra, this is a handy introduction. That said, I ultimately got this for two reasons.

One, I was curious about some of the 'missing' albums from my collection. For sure I've bought quite a few of them, eleven CDs out of the twenty-five (well, technically fourteen, but one order of three was lost – does that make Blue Mountain, Organic Adventures, and Soul Offerings even rarer now?). Generally I'll take in a few audio clips before I decide if yet another Neotantra release is worth dumping my cash into, and if I like what I hear, I buy in. I know, what a shocking habit.

Some stuff I wasn't so immediately convinced on though, so let them pass. Not that they were poor releases or anything, but my music budget stretches only so far, and would rather spend on items I'm immediately sure of rather than might have to 'work to get', if you get my drift. With Coercion Of Deities, I can at least sample what I missed, maybe reconsider down the line. And yeah, stuff like Mind Over MIDI's blissy, calm ambient of Subdivision, or the reflective lowercase field recordings of Bålsam's Sunshower, or even the New Age leaning Pleochroism 2 from Juta Takahashi, even if is a bit over long... all stuff worth scoping further. The more musique concrete experimental stuff though, like Interconnected's Sockelgeschoss or Myoptik's Borgon Plinth, not so much. Personal preference and all. Still, if I want to complete the Neotantra set, I'll have to get them, won't I?

Yeah, that's the other reason I wanted to show off Coercion Of Deities. The cover art is a collage of all the album covers, nicely displaying the gradient colour scheme each batch of releases used. I may only like a select few, but gosh, won't my CDs look weird on the shelf with a broken scheme? I can't have Mick Chillage's Epinaz pink go into Motionfield's Signals purple without Bålsam's Soul Offerings magenta bridging the gap!

Not that this was some insidious manipulation of marketing on Neotantra's part, oh no. I'm positive they simply came up with a nifty thematic idea that helps their releases stand out in a rather niche yet overcrowded scene like ambient techno. I'm just astounded how effectively it triggers collector's FOMO in doing so.

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.