B°TONG - Monastic

Reverse Alignment: 2017

How, exactly, is this pronounced? Bow Tong? Bu Tang? Be Degrees of 'Tong'? Also, is this supposed to be upper-case or lower-case, because I've seen both, even within his own Bandcamp page. The casing is important, because I don't know whether the name should be whispered or shouted from the rooftops. Is it some ancient, fancy German or Scandinavian dialect my Canadian hinterland upbringing has made me ignorant of? As we are dealing with a dark ambient project, perhaps it's some super-secret scripture code, the likes of which only those who've read the deepest passages of Lovecraft Lore could ever have a hope of comprehending, but to comprehend is to succumb to the utter madness that comes with comprehension of all that is and shall not be unto itself. Or maybe it's just a collection of characters that look cool together, and aren't meant to be spoken aloud. Hey, works for me – one of the reasons I stick to the written word, and not video on the Vimeo.

For those writing the B°TONG cheques, you can use the name Chris Sigdell. He's been an active musician for some three decades now, flitting between various aliases and noisy industrial bands in that time. Probably his most famous group was NID, though more recently he's gone the way of doom metal in Leaden Fumes. b°tong (sorry, but until I've a concrete answer of which version is correct, I'm gonna' be flippin' them) sprung up around the time NID ended, and has resulted in over twenty albums in a mere decade of activity. Sounds about right for a post-industrial noise-experimental dark ambient project, especially one that I've never heard of until stumbling upon it in Reverse Alignment's catalogue. Can't say I'm familiar with any of B°TONG's previous labels though (Verato Project, Snowy Tension Pole, gears of sand, Attenuation Circuit, Like A/An Everflowing Stream, Hots), but some of his older albums do look intriguing. I wonder what's the deal with that Ov Elf And Haarp?

Mr. Sigdell made his debut on Reverse Alignment with two albums, this one and The Long Journey. I'm... not sure why I passed on the latter, as it's about the black hole at the centre of our galaxy – sounds right up my cosmic drone alley! Instead, I picked up Monastic, an album inspired by the New Swabia conspiracy theories. You know, that ol' chestnut about a secret Nazi base buried under the Antarctic ice, existing to this day. Maybe Hitler's kept there too, under cryostasis. I don't know about that, though it would be funny if he rose one day with cryo-frozen Stalin and cryo-frozen Disney to take over the world.

This is an album that features a lot of cavernous, claustrophobic field recordings, desolate drones, chilly soundscapes, and distant voices echoing off deep, frozen tunnels. You sense there's some sort of civilization lurking in all these ice caverns, but damned if you can find them. And maybe damned if you do find them.

Porya Hatami & Darren McClure - In-Between Spaces

...txt: 2015

You'd think after a dozen years of doing this, I'd know how to avoid the aftermath. Indeed, I've done everything in the How To Avoid Post-Festival Flu handbook, and yet I still get hit with some bout of sickness after coming home from Shambhala. To be fair, the dusty farm environment makes it a challenge even under the best conditions. Not only do you have some twenty thousand souls kicking up dirt, but also all the cow-patty particulates that populate the pasture year-round. Wearing a handkerchief or bandana for cover helps, and I even take things a step further with medical masks when I know I'll be working in a super-heavy dust area for a while (those parking lots get it bad). Throw in the killer combo of extreme temperature changes (oh God, the heat this year!), and all around tom-foolery and chicanery that comes with any music festival, no matter how 'responsible' one remains, and yeah, it's no surprise folks come away from them feelin' the flu, even veterans who should know better. Or maybe I just get an allergic reaction to the being back in the rat-race so soon after a week out. Yeah, let's go with that instead!

So coming back, feeling down with the sickness, but still having to drag my sagging ass to work, you can forgive my lack brain power for a brief while following Shamb's. Getting the ol' writing juices flowing again sometimes takes a little effort, a little inspiration, a little kick in the cerebellum-butt. On the other hand, it's nice to ease back into things with a little sonic fluff, musical cotton-candy that doesn't require much in the way of actual analysis and critique, an album where I can spend the bulk of a review waxing on about anecdotal bull before getting into the meat 'n grits of the CD. Yes, this here In-Between Spaces from Porya Hatami and Darren McClure will do nicely.

I've gone over Mr. Hatami's work a fair deal now, and you might remember Mr. McClure from such collaborative projects like Memex. I honestly forgot he was a part of that though, and I wrote the review of that album with Lee Norris only a year ago! For a brief refresher, Darren's something of an abstract ambient journeyman, and possibly came into association with Porya either via their time spent in Japan, or their works released through Inner Ocean Records (because I gotta' give Canadian labels all attention they can get).

In-Between Spaces is a modest little collection of ambient pieces, only five tracks long, ranging from seven to twelve minutes in length. It's all very minimalist with soft, glitchy effects and static fuzz warping distant pianos, pads and field recordings. At points, I'm surprised just how natural some of these effects sound. Like, is that actual rain fall in Summer Rain, or treated static? Sends me into sweet, soothing calm of mental contentment, either way, as does the rest of In-Between Spaces. Mmm, recovery sleep...

Porya Hatami And Lee Anthony Norris - Every Day Feels Like A New Drug

Unknown Tone Records/...txt: 2013/2014

Another in Lee Norris' semi-regular series of 'Albums I Made A Number Of Years Ago, And Are Giving Away As Limited Free Bandcamp Downloads To Fans Following My Music, Because You Guys Rock'. It's a nice series, though I can't imagine it being terribly profitable. Then again, given the limited runs of the original CDs, it's not like there's much money left on the table now. Unless you're one of those shysters in the second-hand market, selling music at over-inflated prices because you know there's enough easy marks with collector's cash to make that investment worth the while. How nice of Mr. Norris to bypass all that for his fans who just wanted to hear the music on a streaming service. Still, I do wonder what Porya Hatami's say in all this is? Like, I can only assume he's fine about it, but what if he was hoping to squeeze a couple extra dimes out of a purchasable Bandcamp download from this album? The margin of profit in the ambient scene isn't terribly high to begin with – gotta' get all you can get while the getting's good, amirite?

Every Day Feels Like A New Drug was Misters Norris and Hatami's first pairing, initially coming out on Unknown Tone Records. Yes, it's Yet Another Ambient Label, though I don't recognize it, nor many names there. *sigh* And of course, they have some tasty-looking items too, much to the chagrin of my bank account. At least they're based out of Tulsa, Oklahoma, so shipping shouldn't be that expensive. I hope...

So obviously this album sold out, but given the buzz generated by their other collaboration, The Longing Daylight on Carpe Sonum Records, Every Day Feels Like a New Drug saw a re-issue on Lee's own ...txt print. That CD's likely all sold out now too, hence the limited digital giveaway on Norris' part. Or maybe not, the Hatami-Norris brand of ambient perhaps just a tad too deep on the Mellow Spectrum for all casual costumers of their music to consume. I mean, I sure wasn't in a hurry to hear more of it, only jumping on this album because Norris offered it up for free. I like their stuff, but it didn't exactly leap out from the glut of ambient works I've buried myself in either. Short album lengths don't help either.

Comparing the two albums, I find The Longing Daylight has a little more personality going for it, in that the unique approaches to ambient Norris and Hatami offer come through clearer. Here, I get the sense neither artist really wanted to outshine or subvert the other, so it all mushes together into a similar tone throughout. Soft pads, dusty background textures, glitchy reverb washes, gentle pianos, and bubbling field recordings. And The Birds Flew In A Different Direction sparks my Adham Shaikh memory membranes, but nothing else grabs my attention the way their other works have. Ambient music in its truest form, I guess.

Andrew Heath - Europa

Disco Gecko: 2016

Y'know, I do like Andrew Heath's vibe, but even four albums worth of his minimalist ambient feels a bit overkill for my music collection. Just how many times can I take hearing his sparse piano tones, treated field recordings, and ephemeral synth harmonics before it all it starts blending into the same sonic soup. It's not really a style of songcraft that lends itself to radical experimentation. While there are different ideas and settings he can approach his compositions from, his basic texture hasn't changed that much in the four years he's released material on Banco de Gaia's label. Perhaps that's why hearing his most recent album, Soundings, open with that clickity-clack of typewriter typing was so effective at grabbing my attention – it was a sound astoundingly unique in Mr. Heath's overall sonic palette. Either that, or I find something intimately relating in hearing the sporadic striking of a querty keyboard.

Still, Europa should satisfy at least another innate tug at my soul, wanderlust. No, I mean actual wanderlust, not Wanderlust, the Andrew Heath piece with the typewriter sounds (I can't get over it!). After his first couple albums most dealt with the idyllic, pastoral vistas of the British countryside, Heath set his ears to the recalled sounds of mainland Europe, reflecting the areas he'd travelled while touring throughout old lands of Empires long passed. It definitely lends itself to a different vibe compared to The Silent Cartographer and Flux.

Andrew's music has always had a sense of journey about it, though seldom with any particular destination in mind – you can imagine slowly floating down a small creek in a tiny village as his music plays. Europa, on the other hand, has far more territory to traverse, so that same languid pace isn't quite so prominent. For sure the pieces crafted here remain as calm and soothing as anything Mr. Heath's crafted – he's quite comfortable in his lane – but in trying to capture the sprit of the different regions of his travels, it doesn't feel like we're completely taking in all that each setting offers. Some local folk music flavours in Lunz, sight-seeing unique fowl fauna in Requiem, partaking in the pleasant child activities in The Summer Boys, checking out the historical cultural achievements in Sputnik | Little Earth. So much to see, so little time to see it all in (approximately 74-80 minutes, plus another twenty if you sprung for the extra-deluxe bonus tour, er, tracks).

Which is par for the course when it comes to tourist vacations, always in a hurry to get to your next destination, being herded like cattle onto buses or monorails before the deadline, and ooh wait, there's just one extra thing I want to see, no, don't leave me behind, I don't have enough local currency for a hostel stay, wait! Er, not that I've ever had to deal with such inconveniences when sight-seeing abroad. I've heard stories though. Oh, have I heard stories.

Michael Mantra - D#m / Gm

Purple Soil: 2008

Much of Michael Mantra's career was fairly typical as most egg-headed ambient/New Age composers went. Releasing material via ultra-rare tapes on his own label, occasionally popping his head out of obscurity for a compilation track or two, and generally minding his own business honing his craft with little care for fame and fortune. Maybe he'd receive a nice shout-out from one of the ambient journals of the day, but I doubt tapes like Sworn To The Bell and RNA – Ribonucleic Ambience were getting much attention. He did release one notable album, Sonic Alter on the American ambient print Silent, but for the most of the '90s, that looked to be Mr. Mantra's lone brush with success.

After a while, Michael paired with a producer named Rod Modell, the two collaborating on a couple LPs. You know Mr. Modell as DeepChord, and he even did a remix album of Sonic Alter under the guise before folks knew much about him. This gave Mr. Mantra a little associated buzz, and soon his works were getting unearthed for a new generation of ambient heads. Even Silent Season got in on the act! Man, that's wild. I'd seen the name 'Michael Mantra' here and there, but never made the DeepChord or Silent Season connection. Having now taken in a little more of the man's drone-scapes, the association does makes sense. This particular album comes care of Purple Soil though, a Czech print releasing material about as glacial slow as the frigid forms from which Mantra took inspiration in crafting these pieces of minimalist drone.

Yes, we're back in these waters again, ambient so subtle and minute that it'd have Geir Jenssen hoping for a little more action. His is a meditative sort of drone, the likes I've touched upon before (The Eternal Om springs to mind – the inlay even has a similar 'do not play while operating automobiles' warning), and is almost impossible to detail in any useful sense. I'll still give it the ol' college-try for sure, but if I don't make it back alive, tell my loved ones- never mind.

D#m is forty minutes long, and has around a half-dozen sounds coming and going throughout its runtime. There's the distant breath of wind through alpine cirques, something like bird-song slowed and stretched into weird abstraction, an even subtler drone tone than the wind that gradually changes pitch over dozens of minutes, and that's it. I cannot deny I'm strangely entranced by it all, like I must pay astute attention to even the most impalpable of changes to get the proper experience of this composition. Forty minutes is a bit much though, my mind often conking out somewhere past twenty-five. At a 'tighter' thirty-three minutes, Gm has a little more going for it, in that it isn't so impossibly quiet, with field recordings stretched out as a distant tone resembling an om chant emerges. A real 'reach for the laser' anthem compared to D#m, this one.

Biosphere - Compilation 1991-2004

Biophon Records: 2012/2017

Now isn't this just a right dandy little item Geir Jenssen's given us. As Biosphere, he released few actual albums throughout his first fifteen years of music making, but each one was a bonafide classic of ambient and frigid techno, making fans squirm and itch for more material. There were collaborations with Pete Namlook (Fires Of Ork) and Higher Intelligence Agency, but if you fancied yourself a true Biosphere completist, you'd have to do some serious sleuthing and digging, many tracks exclusive to compilations littered among his discography. Some of these weren't too hard find – even I could find copies of Trance Europe Express 3 on my local store shelves – but chances are you'd have to come from the hinterlands of Norway to snag yourself a copy of Nova Norvegia – (Get) Into The Arctic Groove. To say nothing of the outright obscurity of a Denmark museum collection in Krydsfelt – Norpol. I imagine even the peer-to-peer juggernauts of old had trouble tracking that one down.

Well fuss no more, Biosphere Completists, for Geir has gathered all his wayward offspring between the years 1991 and 2004 into a tidy 2CD compilation, titled, um, Compilation 1991-2004 - doesn't beat around the lichen moss, does it? Of course, if you really want to fancy yourself a true-proper Biosphere Completist, you'll still hunt down all those CDs these tracks were sprung from. For sensible people though, this will suffice.

Although, having listened through this now, I wonder if Compilation: My First Fifteen Years has any appeal beyond only the most die-hard Biosphere disciples. There's no denying Mr. Jenssen's frigid oeuvre can leave some folks cold (hah!). Yet whether you prefer his bleep techno beginnings, desolate field recordings, or looping drone, few come away from his work without at least thinking, “Hm, that's interesting.” And this double-discer touches base on all these aspects, but if you were coming in here looking for brilliant exclusives that never made an album cut, you've come to the wrong place indeed.

There isn't much from his techno days, opener Hypnophone the lone cut with any sort of beat among these fifteen tracks. The Third Planet and The Seal & The Hydrophone (Geir has a fascination for hydrophones) do the bleep ambient thing that marked his second album. By four tracks in though, we're already in the year 1997, when the minimalist abstraction really started taking hold of the Biosphere muse. Knives In Hens and Superfluid features some of the most experimental samples and drones Geir's ever produced, tediously so. At least the gentle ambience of Bird Watching and Sun-Baked end CD1 on a pleasant note.

CD2 is generally more consistent, as Mr. Jenssen's figured out how to craft his abstraction sampling into compositions with direction and focus, despite sometimes taking forever getting there (such a lonely road in Vi Kan Tenka Digitalt, Vi Kan Tala Digitalt). If you can't mess with ultra-minimalism though, well, you probably haven't bothered with post-Millennium Biosphere anyway.

Legiac - The Voynich Manuscript

Dronarivm: 2016

Hey, it's another Dronarivm release. Remember when I went through a bunch of these at the start of this months-long alphabetical backlog? My how time flies. Been nearly one-hundred reviews written since the last item from this label, and the fact I'm still not through yet sends my mind to the lands of Bogglin. Heck, this marks the fifth 'V' album in this batch, which increased my total 'V' albums by 30%! Can you just imagine how many 'W's there are? (spoiler: not many)

There hasn't been much released under the name Legiac, but the players involved have definitely been busy bodies. Dutch brothers Don and Roel Funcken started out doing glitchy braindance, IDM, and electro under a number of aliases, most prominent being Funckarma, Cane, and Mystery Artist. They got a look-in with Very Important IDM labels like Warp and Skam, but never broke out of obscurity in any significant way. The other player involved in Legiac is Cor Bolten, who Lord Discogs tells me was active with new wave bands since the early '80s, whilst doing film score work on the side.

Seems like an unlikely pairing with these folks, but somewhere along the way, they did team up. First it was doing experimental stuff as Cor Bolten, Don Funcken & Roel Funcken, then doing downtempo, abstract stuff as Dif:use, and finally IDM leaning material as Legiac. That one looked to be a one-off effort, and a final one, the individual parties going their separate ways again. A few years ago though, Roel and Cor dusted Legiac off, The Voynich Manuscript their second album under the revitalized project. Yo', where Don in all this?

When I first dove into this album, I wasn't expecting something as melodic as we get here. True, I didn't have any prior musical knowledge of Misters Funcken and Bolten, just my preconceived notions based on what Dronarivm works I have taken in. And for sure there's ample amounts of droning ambience and blanketing field recordings present, but often used in a subtler, graceful manner than most other works in this vein. There's space and depth in these layers of sound, with melodic tones at the fore, but never so prominent they drown out the burbling static and white noise lurking underneath. What's remarkable is the chaotic sub-surface of sound is so consistent throughout this album, whenever it does recede, it not only makes the melodic leads leap out, you also feel that absence as though you've lost a chunk of your soul. Or maybe it's just like that in the final piece Ambikythera Mechanism, what with opulent organ tones driving things forward.

It really is a gorgeous composition, and many of the early tracks in The Voynich Manuscript are darn lovely as well. However, there's also a lengthy stretch towards the back-half that kinda' dithers about with wallpaper sonic doodles and experimental drone. They're fine in their own right, but compared to the highs this album hits, kinda' forgettable too. So it goes.

SiJ - The Time Machine

Cryo Chamber: 2017

Did you know SiJ does solo albums too? Of course you do, because I've said as much in the past, though even these aren't technically always solo either. When Vlad Sikach initially launched the project, he had help from a couple associates, including Anna Vorobyeva on synths and Alena Perepadya on field recordings and photography. Hey, the design aesthetic was just as integral to the SiJ manifesto as the sound aesthetic, so it counts! Anna and Alena have remained a consistent presence, but many others have joined Vlad for collaborative work under the SiJ banner.

For instance, the Way To Dream album is loaded with 'em. Alena's there! Anna's there! Textere Oris is there! Robert Rich is there! Creation IV is there! Leon Milo is there! Owl is there! Zebraphone Collective is there! Toiletrolltube is there! AMK, jmggs, & Sala are there! Even Endless Meloncholy is there – the producer, not the mood, though given this is a dark ambient project, probably that too. Point is, whether it's Vlad on his own or with a bunch of help from his friends, the SiJ name can represent a lot of people if need be.

And so it goes with The Time Machine, which looks like a solo album from SiJ, but definitely is not once you dig into the credit notes, many tracks having an extra hand in the production. Anna's back for some synth action on two pieces, as is Textere Oris on one. Keosz pops up to add some flute tones to Vision Of Hell (credited as a sample, so maybe not him specifically), plus a bunch more I'm not immediately familiar with. However, Vadim Grin (Dream Twice), Stanislav ToSo (Particula), Tanya Lieben, and Anna Sikach have all worked on prior SiJ releases, so Vlad's at least in familiar company with this outing.

The Time Machine is about taking a trip through time, obviously, letting the listener in on some sights and sounds of past and future. And since this is a dark ambient release, you bet it's gonna' be all grim and desolate and self-reflective. Can't wait to hear how SiJ sucks you in with some creepy, ominous foreshadow with opener Forwards In Time. Uh, wait a second... this, isn't creepy or ominous at all. In fact, it's downright calm and lovely, like ambient-proper. Yeah, there's a tiny amount of twitchy field recordings in the background, but man, I'm feeling right blissed out by this opener. Are we sure this is a Cryo Chamber release?

Nah, guy, the rest of the album playing out as expected with the players involved. Minimalist, barren, melancholic ambient music with plenty of field recordings to spare. It's all absorbing stuff, though I almost have to skip the first track to vibe on it, Forwards In Time putting me in such a conflicting headspace compared to what follows. Interesting that the peaceful closer Shrine Of Dark serves as a nice contrast though, as if SiJ has sandwiched his bleak soundscapes in hope.

Ishqamatics - Spacebound

...txt: 2013

Finally focusing on two projects for the first time, for the price of one! ...kind of. Lee Norris, I've obviously talked up plenty now, but haven't gotten into the alias that started it all for him: Metamatics. Maybe I will at some point – it's not like he's put it into mothballs – but dude's got so much music out there, I gotta' prioritize a little. As I've only 'discovered' Mr. Norris a couple years ago, of course his recent projects get my attention first. As for Ishq, I've heard a track or two over the years, have seen the name dropped in many familiar labels and compilations. The main guy behind the project, Matt Hillier, was something of a journeyman in the early '90s before breaking out with Ishq, and has had a rather productive career ever since.

So, Ishqamatics, yet another Norris pairing from that fruitful year of 2013, when he was hooking up with nearly everyone for some collaborative work if they released music on his ...txt print. That included Ishq, so naturally Lee looked over in Matt's direction and said, “That's a mighty fine sound you have there – wanna' connect?” So they did, even contributing a track to the indispensable Pete Namlook tribute set Die Welt Ist Klang (it always comes back to that, doesn't it). By the end of 2013, two albums resulted from the Ishqamatics sessions, one for the label Anodize (Earthbound), and another for ...txt, Spacebound. The latter sold out quickly, because of course it did, but demand was so high that another run of copies was manufactured. Hurrah, I could get me a copy as well! I mean, I ought to check it out, what with it being the default music on the ...txt homepage and all. Must be Very Important Music for such an honour.

Well, it's space ambient, that much is sure, which is something of a surprise where Ishq is concerned, having built a rep' for Earthly zen music and all. Hillier's tones do come through often, contrasting quite nicely with Norris' more frigid electronics. Sometimes the Ishq stylee dominates, as in the lengthy Bound To Earth featuring sitar drones for much of its duration (whoa, getting Shaikh flashbacks). Lots of noodly, droney, spacey ambient follows that track, field recordings coming and going before being sent back out into the cosmos. Sometimes there's glitched-up radio chatter, and a little jazz ditty plays from an overhead speaker in Round The Ringstone, but if I'm honest, there's little to detail, droning synth tones and minute melodies the name of the game here.

Spacebound is alluring, engaging, and flowing as an album, always leaving me like I'm drifting out in space while remaining tethered to terra firma. At the same time though, not much really leaped out at me either. It's an odd one, where everything I hear is exactly what I like to hear, but imprinting little upon my brain afterwards. Maybe there's something to be said for the unexpected.

Andrew Heath - Soundings

Disco Gecko: 2017

I've been neglectful of Andrew Heath. It's not like he's been absent, releasing music at a yearly clip, but it's been a few albums since I last talked him up. Thing is, though I generally like his minimalist ambient works, it's also something that's reliably just there, not terribly fussed about getting attention. I can go back to it whenever I feel, comfortable that it'll sound exactly how I expect it will, and that'll be that. Seeing as how it's been two years (!) since I last reviewed one of Mr. Heath's records, it stands to reason my attention's been diverted elsewhere in the meanwhile. Absolutely so, labels like ...txt, Dronarivm, Cryo Chamber, and, er, Psychonavigation having lured my ambient explorations away from Disco Gecko in that time. Well, better get caught up on ol' Andrew then, starting with his most recent offering, Soundings.

One thing Mr. Heath has started putting more focus on is his use of field recordings, making them the guiding backbone of his compositions rather than sonic texturing. That is no more prominently displayed than with the opening track Wanderlust, where the good ol' clackity-clack of a typewriter greets us. More often than not, when I hear an album open with a typewriter, I expect the person at the machine to proclaim he's taking his work back underground (to keep it from falling into the wrong hands), but I suspect Andrew's manifesto isn't so renegade. Instead, this piece features distant footsteps, crackling static, soft synthy timbres, and those distinct, sparse piano tones that will always bring the Harold Budd comparisons, though Heath's use of them goes into abstraction. Halfway through the fourteen-minute piece, acoustic guitar plucks and muted dialog take the lead, though the typewriter/piano combo does return for the final leg. If Wanderlust was about capturing the feeling of one's mind drifting while trying to get proper-work done, it certainly does that. You've no idea how many times I got distracted even writing this paragraph!

For as much Andrew made in the liner notes about his field recordings being his primary source of inspiration, from which he crafted his music around, I don't get that sense from the rest of Soundings. For sure there's more throughout, the usual assortment of open areas, intimate settings, and the like, but nothing quite so significant as the typewriter of Wanderlust. Rather, he's given more time and space for the guest musicians to do their things. This includes clarinet from Bill Howgego in A Break In The Clouds, cello from Stéphane Marlot in Days In-Between, and the usual instrumental accompaniments from Anne Chris Bakker, whom Heath's been working with for some time now. They're all fine pieces, though does edge the music closer into modern classical's domain than ambient.

And in the end, I still found myself more enthralled by Andrew's 'traditional' songs, such as the Bandcamp bonus of The Painted Surface, something of a sober reflection of Wanderlust. Navigating art halls never felt so isolating.

God Body Disconnect - Sleeper's Fate

Cryo Chamber: 2017

Definitely a surprise that Bruce Moallem returned to the story arc he started in Dredge Portals. How much is left to tell about a man lost in a coma? We've already explored the past memories, the self-reflections, and the damning judgments. All that remains is the final climb up Jacob's ladder, but the last track off Dredge Portals made it clear the narrator wasn't destined for such a fate any time soon, trapped in a forever loop wandering his own psychosis. And perhaps that still remains, though taking in Sleeper's Fate, I get a sense there's conclusion here, a new path taken behind a previously locked door. Literally, one of the many field recordings being a key unlocking a door.

Y'know, I'm not so sure I can call what God Body Disconnect does with sounds is field recordings. When most producers make use of such sounds, it's as sonic dressing, ambient canvasing, and other 'aural painting' analogies you may think of. You may hear babbling brooks or falling rain or stampeding wildebeest, but it's all in service of setting mood and tone for the composition being presented, seldom a narrative device. Mr. Moallem, however, is so precise and focused in his use of such sounds, it's like I'm watching a movie play out without watching anything on a screen.

The opening titular cut, for instance, places us back at the scene of the narrator's attack. There's falling rain, distant thunder, radio chatter from nearby cop cars, a screaming ambulance arriving, and through it all, a dying man's haggard gasping breath, his throat choking from blood welling up through his mouth. And I'm right there, in this man's viewpoint, as vividly as though watching such images play out on celluloid. Only after this scene plays out do we get some music playing, a sombre piece of strings, pads, and echoing guitar, though even this feels like a 'credit roll' portion of the album before we return to the actual film.

Sleeper's Fate essentially plays out like this, long stretches of 'foley recordings' (can I call this a thing?), with the narrator traversing empty corridors and past hazy memories. It's not too dissimilar to Dredge Portals in that way, but whereas the atmosphere of that album could feel damning and claustrophobic, there's more sense of openness here, lighting once shadowed recesses of the narrator's state of mind.

To put a finer point on it, the whole reason our viewpoint character is stuck in a coma is because, no matter how much he thinks he wants death, he just can't let go of life. Sleeper's Fate is about finally giving in, and the release that provides. The back-half of this album features the most music, almost all of it the sort of soothing ambient that's antithetical to a dark ambient label. Has our narrator awoken from his torturous Hell? Is he walking in the literal Garden Of Eden? Guess we'll have to wait for a third God Body Disconnect for an answer.

SiJ & Item Caligo - Queer Reminiscence

Reverse Alignment: 2017

Having taken in more of SiJ's music since my first dabbling last year, I'm surprised he's ended up with a couple albums on Cryo Chamber. For sure his style of dark ambient and sonic experiments works within the label's overall manifesto (cinematic drone, and all that), but his sense of sombre melancholy feels more benign than this genre typically goes. He's less about the bleak outlook and crippling depression, and more about quiet contemplation, reflective of inner struggles rather than chaotic turmoil. Or perhaps it's music capturing the moments following the strife, of accepting complacency, the calm of clarity that comes when all hope is finally lost. Not a cheering thought.

Still, that leaves Mr. Sikach in good company with his latest pairing, Item Caligo. More of a modern classical composer, with distant pianos and crackly strings his most striking features, he's released numerous albums with such reflective titles like The Night Of Escapism, Self-Deception As Rescue, and Go Away, I Want To Sleep. Even more intriguing is a one-time collaboration with a chap named 'i want to be dead' called Lifelong Suicidal Thoughts. According to Lord Discogs, that individual also goes by, Waqs, Serializer, Amen Weed, amphetamine hysteria, Freak Bwoy, 'born to be buried in the grave', I Cry When I Think Of Past, 'my family members were awful so i killed them in a particularly brutal form', and DJ Sailor Moon, among numerous others. I'm not joking.

Sorry for the side-track. Let's get to Queer Reminiscence, an album with song titles like So Terrible To Contemplate, Her Soul Involuntarily Yearned For Rest, It Was Good To Destroy Once Again, Life Loves Your Pain, and a final, fourteen-minute minimalist drone closer called Oblivion Is The Reward Of The Former. Yeah, it's one of those kinds of albums. All aboard the mope-mobile!

Heh, no, not really. Queer Reminiscence does have its brooding tones, but as mentioned, SiJ's craft with this music is often the sort of melancholy that feels strangely warm and comforting, like the embrace of an old, familiar blanket, even as you stare out a frigid window pane into a grey winter landscape. Add in Item Caligo's modern classical touches, and you have yourself an album perfectly suited for those with acute cases of SADS (*cough*). The titular track features forlorn pad work gently ebbing with layers of timbre, Her Soul Involuntarily Yearned For Rest is a soothing piece of traditional ambient, while If Our Hope Not Fades lets Item Caligo indulge the ol' ivories some - I'm assuming, since it's his thing.

Really, Queer Reminiscence mostly sounds like an Item Caligo album, with SiJ providing sonic treatments and field recordings. There's little of the dark ambient that typically keeps him in those folds, the music here more of a modern classical outing with drone tendencies. Good mood music, all said.

(PS: Vincent Villuis gets a 'samples credit' here, which can only mean, eventually, Ultimae's gonna' go dark ambient too!)

Cryobiosis - Within Ruins

Cryo Chamber: 2013

Another day, another artist on the ever expanding Cryo Chamber roster. Seems I can't go a few months without talking about someone for the first time on this label. Heck, in a way, I've already covered nearly all of them in one of those Cryo Chamber Collaboration albums, but it seems I'm on an unconscious task to give Every. Single. Artist. on Simon Heath's print their own special spotlight too. Including this one, I've now talked up twenty-three artists with music on Cryo Chamber, and there's still a bunch more I've never mentioned (Aseptic Void, Dark Matter, Wordclock, Metatron Omega, Paleowolf, Hoshin, and more... oh God, are there ever more!). Is this dark ambient outlet becoming its own version of a black hole, seemingly sucking in all manner of musicians into its bleak gravity well? No, that can't be right – I've come across quite a few other labels with just as massive of contributors to their discographies. Cryo just has something that keeps me poking about more, wondering how this new name or that overlooked producer might offer a different spin on the genre's morbid aesthetics. Also, sweet, sweet CDs to buy. Gotta' have ma' physicals!

Cryobiosis isn't exactly new to the Cryo family, in fact one of Mr. Heath's earliest recruits to the Chamber house. Cristian Voicu first debuted with From The Depths on GV Sound, yet another dark ambient/drone/experimental net label that's harboured such talents as SiJ, Songs From A Tomb, Morbid Silence, Astral & Shit, Radio Noiseville, and... Primus? Uh, anyway, ol' Simon liked Mr. Voicu's voice enough to invite him over for an album deal. He's released two since then, Within Ruins the first of them. It's fairly easy to hear why the Cryobiosis stylee caught on with Mr. Atrium Carceri, both having an ear for those post-apocalyptic tones and atmosphere, exploring abandoned dwellings in decayed husks of civilization. It's just, going by this album, Cryobiosis doesn't quite have the same sense of narrative flow as Atrium Carceri does.

For sure his craftsmanship with each track is easily on par. Opener Enthrall has all the morbid drones, discordant pads, and skritchy sound-effects that have you feeling like your wandering the broken rubble of old buildings. Some tracks offer piano calm while fumbling through dripping ceilings and puddles of black water (Frigid Silence, Recollection, Forgotten). Others ramp up the claustrophobic field-recordings and forlorn tone (The Corridors Beneath, Corroded, As The World Decays, Departure). And some pieces are pure depressive drone as you wander aimlessly through the dark (Murkfall, Through Debris).

Where am I going with this though? What exactly am I seeing? Is there a story behind the scenery, or does it exist only for its own sake? There's merit in such an approach to the genre, but I cannot deny being spoiled by many Cryo Chamber releases crafting distinct stories guiding me through more than vivid, unrelated imagery. If that's all Cryobiosis set out to make though, then Within Ruins definitely succeeds there.

Ugasanie - White Silence

Cryo Chamber: 2013

We've had too much sunshine on the West Coast this summer. Even the nearby Sunshine Coast is looking up at fat ol' Sol and asking, “Dude, let up a little?” And no, blotting out the sun with a thick haze of forest-fire smoke doesn't count. If anything, it makes it worse, scattering the sunlight such that it heats the surrounding air even more, creating intense humidity even us city slickers find suffocating. Why can't it be like the clogged atmosphere of a deep, cold winter, sun rays reflecting back out to space from whence it came? If I can't experience a winter in the summer, I can at least vicariously live one through another album from Mr. Malyshkin, and all his bitter, frozen ambient textures.

This is the first of (currently) four albums Ugasanie released on Cryo Chamber. Yep, took me this long to finally get to where it all began with this partnership, but an important one nonetheless. For most of its initial years, Simon Heath's print promoted the standard dark ambient styles most associate with the genre: post-apocalyptic mood music, industrial bleakness, psychosis soundtracks, with a dash of the ethereal occult for flavour. White Silence added an additional layer to their grayland tapestry, that of remote isolationism within bleak, frigid settings. It's an aesthetic that others had explored in years past, but it was Cryo Chamber's first foray into such frontier, establishing a fearless streak that no dark ambient domain was off limits, no matter how fringe.

Of course, you're wondering if Yet Another Ugasanie Album is worth your time, especially if the previous ones I've covered are entirely too niche in topic for those only just dipping your ankles in dark ambient's onyx waters. Studies in northern madness, aurora borealis meditation, and weirdness in Tunguska are find and dandy, but sometimes folks just wanna' wander the tundra wastes on a sight-seeing tour. Spoiler: there's a whole lotta' nothing out there, maybe a stray bird call or wolf howl piercing the emptiness.

Still, as White Silence was an introductory of sorts for Ugasanie with the Cryo Chamber posse, it's only fitting that the music within is rather broad in scope too. Track titles like Permafrost, In The Northern Lights, Under The Cover Of The Polar Night, and Tundra Fogs usually help set the tone of most other albums from Mr. Malyshkin, but here they're simply another piece of the polar picture he's painting for us. Even the opening track, The Island Of Terrible Death, doesn't lead us to a specific event, merely taking us to the titular shore for a look-see before moving on. Ooh, creepy and ominous.

Another thing that separates White Silence from other Ugasanie albums is his use of melodic timbre. Yeah, it's still that minor-key dark ambient synth pad, but it's more than the typical atonal drone he does in most of his works. That just might make this album his most accessible, if anything in this scene can be deemed as such.

Refracted - Through The Spirit Realm

Silent Season: 2015

Eh? What's this? I'm still hearing the theme to It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia playing? But... I already made my excuses in the review of Lingua Lustra's Source, a perfectly valid reason for 'springing' on a digital version of a release despite my steadfast mandate that I'll always go hard copy over digital: I initially got it for as a free download, then picked up the CD in a bulk deal from the label. See, perfectly legit. I've remained honest and true in my proclamation of never buying digital if a physical option remains. *Always Sunny In Philadelphia plays, now with title “Sykonee Buys A Digital Version Of A Vinyl Release”*

Oh, fine, 'tis true I caved on this one, but Silent Season is so good at twisting my rubber arm, don't you know. They actually sent out a Bandcamp discount through email, so I figured where's the harm in indulging one of their releases that came out in a physical medium I know I'll never buy. I mean, there's always the ultra-slim chance I might find one of their earlier CDs at a 'reasonable' price on the open market (haha, ha), but vinyl? Oh, Hell no! I don't dare start on the Black Crack addiction. Then again, I caved on my 'never digital' stance in this particular instance – who's to say I won't some day break to vinyl's ever-seductive gleam, its promises of audio fidelity grand and pure... NO! Must... resist...

Refracted is Alex Moya, a relative newcomer to the world of techno. He made his vinyl debut with Silent Season, on the 2013 EP Along A Ghostly Trail, following on that a couple years later with a debut album in Through The Spirit Realm. For some reason, it didn't click for me this was an LP (or 2x12”), figuring I'd simply be getting a single as most records from Silent Season go. It's rather pricey of the fiercely independent print to press wax of this sort, is what I'm saying. But yeah, five tracks hovering around the seven minute mark, an experimental shorty about three-and-a-half, and a ten-plus minute closer - I'd say this constitutes a proper LP.

As we're dealing with Silent Season, you bet the style of techno Mr. Moya brings us is deep, dubby, and filled with field recordings. It's also remarkably tribal, tracks like We Arrive, The Ritual Begins, and the titular cut getting my Psychik Warriors Ov Gaia triggers going. Right, it's not exactly like the PWoG we all know and love – none of that renegade grit in this mixdown – but the techno-kraft is close enough for me to dig it. The two tracks that bookend Through The Spirit Realm are more on that ambient trip though, which is fine if you like your subtle lush pads flush with sounds of the jungle and approaching thunderstorms. Still feels weird trading such rainforest fauna from that which Silent Season's more known for. Unless you wander the Amazon exhibit in the Vancouver Aquarium anyway.

Lingua Lustra - Spaces

Spiritech: 2016

I could have reviewed this a couple months ago, when going through the previous alphabetical backlog. Spaces initially found itself in my library as a download earlier this year, perhaps as a short-term free giveaway from Lingua Lustra's Bandcamp. He has quite a few of those available, though mostly all singles and EPs, not full-length albums. Spaces falls into the latter camp, but there's no way I paid money just for a download. I've forever refused buying digital if a physical option is available. *Always Sunny In Philadelphia theme starts playing*...

No, wait, there's a logical reason for having a CD of this! See, Spaces comes care of Spiritech, a short-lived label helmed by Alireza Zaifnejad (BlueBliss) and Albert Borkent; aka: Lingua Lustra. Mostly dealing with digital, Spiritech started dabbling in CD options this past year, including a 4CD deal of their four latest albums. Spaces was among those, and I thought to myself, “Well, I already have the digital version, I may as well include it in my standard backlog in anticipation of getting the CD.” And while I did listen to this in that batch, I didn't want to 'cheat' reviewing it without first having the physical copy on hand (why do I make things needlessly convoluted!?). For some reason though, the CD order took a long time arriving, over two-months – wasn't Spiritech situation in Saskatchewan? I know we make our 'hicksville' jokes about the province here on the West Coast, but seriously? I can only assume these CDs came from Mr. Borkent's own stash in Europe, what with the label folding and all (more on that later).

Naturally, I'm going on and on (beyond the halcyon) about pointless info because I'm left with Yet Another Ambient Album With Little To Detail. Spaces contains only three tracks, each nearly doubling the length of the previous one. Opener Ruin runs about seven minutes, follow-up Eden hovers around twelve and a half, while final cut Source stretches out to the twenty-six mark. That's actually an interesting concept worth exploring, if you're into technical aspects of music compositions – studies in time signatures, hidden messages in song durations, and the like. It's all a little wanky to my sensibilities, but props to those who dedicate their skills to it. It's like a painter who uses difficult techniques creating a portrait that anyone with rudimentary ability could accomplish. Or maybe not, I dunno' - my knowledge of painting is pathetic. Oh, and I kinda' doubt the whole 'escalating track duration' thing was intentional on Lingua Lustra's part, since these pieces aren't perfectly trimmed to accommodate the concept. Just a curious coincidence.

And the music itself? Ruin is ultra-minimalist with electromagnetic drone, soft pulses, and emergent field recordings. Eden does the bright, layered synth pad drone thing. Source is practically devoid of sound, subtle bleepy electronics, impossibly distant pads, and gentle washes of white noise static leaving plenty of open spaces for a wandering mind. Fits the album theme, that's for sure.

Memex - Memory Index

Carpe Sonum Records: 2016

This is, what, the tenth collaborative project Lee Norris has partaken? Dude's a machine as of late, sucking all nearby producers into his studio. Or Skype sessions. Or whatever musicians use to share ideas and tracks over the interwebs these days. I kinda' hope they still do in-studio sessions though, the synergy between two creative people interlocking their mental and physical beings into a twisting ballet of- and there it is. I almost went five years on this blog without succumbing to a pseudo slash-fic joke.

Anyhow, we all know Mr. Norris' story, so let's focus a bit on the other half of this Memex partnership, one Darren McClure. He's been making music for a little over a decade now, and if his Discogian info is accurate, has seldom released material on a label twice, Impulive Habitat getting the honor. Of his thirteen officially listed albums (including many other collaborations), he has music with The Land Of, Symbolic Interaction, Unknown Tone Records, Dragon's Eye Recordings, Nova Fund Recordings, [Not On Label], and Inner Ocean Records. You may remember that last one as the Calgary print I snatched up a couple CDs from, among them a Porya Hatami LP. He likely hooked up with Mr. McClure through that association (both residing in Japan probably helped), as the two put out a collaborative album called In-Between Spaces on Lee's label ...txt. Ah-HAH, and thus we get our link to Norris! From which the two worked together... under a unique alias? And released the result on Carpe Sonum Records?? Huh, maybe Darren wanted to keep that 'one release for one label' thing going.

As for the music Mr. McClure makes, it's mostly of the soft drone and field recordings sort, at least of the clutch of samples I listened to. He doesn't have much on Spotify, making a splurge there difficult – plenty on Bandcamp though, but Bandcamp binging isn't terribly convenient. Still, having taken in enough for a reasonable overview of his sound, I have to say I'm surprised by how little I hear of it in this Memex project.

For sure it crops up here and there among the seven tracks that make up Memory Index. Swing Strings has flowing water sounds and mechanical drones, Just Wake Up utilizes ghostly passages like being lost in a robot park, In Advance has twittering birds and crunchy static, and Steps In The Way bubbles with shoegazey fuzz. Short ambient piece Disengage is about the only track where it feels like McClure's style dominates though. Mostly, this album is led by Norris' ambient techno beatcraft and bleepy melodica, ofttimes coming off rather retro in a HIA sort of way.

Which is fine where I'm concerned – can never get enough of that vintage 'bleep ambient' action. I just figured I'd hear more of Mr. McClure's aesthetic in this effort. Or is he also down with the acid-chill sound, but with little opportunity to explore it before? Freedom to indulge rhythms at last!

Alphaxone & ProtoU - Stardust

Cryo Chamber: 2017

Now this is a pairing I wouldn’t have expected. Come to think of it, I wouldn’t have expected Alphaxone to pair up with anyone, beyond the now-obligatory yearly Cyro Chamber ‘Old Ones Tribute’ jamboree. He’s worked in conjunction with other dark ambient folks on thematic compilation albums, specifically Tomb Of Empires and Tomb Of Seers, but those are still solo outings from Mr. Saleh, merely contributing a piece of music for those particular projects. Lord Discogs tells me this is his first true collaborative effort though; across any alias he’s had this past half-decade. Maybe he’s done others even The Lord That Knows All doesn’t know about, but I kinda’ like Stardust being his first for a simple reason: it fits a narrative!

In case you missed all those Alphaxone reviews I did last year, there’s been a slow, steady conceptual migration in his works from terra firma to the great beyond above. Well, after leaving some alternate dimensions filled with graylands and some-such. However, it’s lonely in space [citation needed], so now that he’s finally out among the stars, perhaps a little company was called for. Enter ProtoU, fresh off her work exploring Southeast Asian crypts, joining in on a little solar surfing. I’m not sure how Ms. Cats knows Mr. Saleh, but I imagine after those Cryo Chamber Collaboration epics, a few emails were exchanged for future reference.

As the name implies, Stardust is a space ambient outing, and surprisingly not so bleak as the dark practitioners of this sub-genre go. For sure it’s got its fair share of isolationist drone, tracks like Sub Signal, Consumed, and Observing Quasars doing the ‘cosmic emptiness’ thing you’ll typically hear in this field. It’s tempered with subtle melodic passages though, plus a surprising amount of field recordings lurking just out of hearing range. Even the latter two tracks of the ones I just listed provide some synthy tonal counter-balance to the atonal nature of space drone, music that feels just as in awe of its surroundings as it does meek and insignificant. Nicely captures the whole ‘we’re all star-stuff’ notion, despite so often confounded by such implications.

If anything, this album feels less about exploring the cosmos at large (something of a daunting task), and rather chilling out on some fringe of civilization, far from contact but not impossibly alone. There’s still star-gazing going down, but more like being at an outpost, or remote colony, pushing the boundaries of our cosmic influence. Hence a track like Planemo Dreams, a lonely track with rainfall/static for sure, wiling the time away on some far-flung dwarf or rogue planet. Counter to that is Versus, which features the cosmic drone, yet also has tweeting birds, and an almost positive twist by track’s end. Then at the conclusion of Stardust, Alignments goes synthy old-school, and Returned’s drone gradually turns into brighter pad washes before fading out into static. Whatever this mission was, it’s safe to assume it’s accomplished. How remarkably upbeat for a dark ambient release.

Kolhoosi 13 - Monuments Of Power

Cryo Chamber: 2016

*we now return to EMC’s series premiere of Cryo Chamber Idol, where budding dark ambient artists hope to win a deal with Simon Heath’s ever growing print*

Heath: “We have room for another act that deals with decaying civilizations. What’s your angle on this concept?”
Contestant 12: “We’re the Far-Flung Sons Of Camden Town. And we got… DEAD CITIES!”
Heath: “Yes, that’s what I’m after, but what’s your unique pitch?”
Contestant 12: “DEAD CITIES!”
Heath: “You just said-“
Contestant 12: “DEAD CITIES! D..E..A..D C..I..T..I..E..S.. D…..E.....A…..D…..C…..I…..T….I….E….S….”
Heath: “O-kay. Metal might be your thing instead. Who’s next?”
Contestant 13: “So, you know how all these post-apocalypse Hellscapes are set in the future, after the end-times? Well, how about a project where we put the listener at the cusp of everything falling about?”
Heath: “That’s kinda’ what Cities Last Broadcast implies in his name though.”
Contestant 13: “Yeah, but did he actually deliver on that?”
Heath: “Hm, not really. At least, not with the album we got, what with all that séance business and all.”
Contestant 13: “Right! But we got your back on this one!”
Heath: “Alright, sure. It’s lunch anyway, and I’m hungry.”

As for the name Kolhoosi 13, time to brush up on my Finnish. Seems this refers to Soviet communes (kolkhoz), where State-supervised peasant farming took place across the Eastern Bloc, with many kolhoosi granted autonomy after a time. Not so harsh as the gulags then, but no picnic in the summer either. It invokes a simpler, yet harsher time in Europe’s history, a product of a bygone era from a failed state. Unless, of course, society crumbles and we’re reduced to feudal tillage once more. As for the ‘13’, I’m not sure where that comes from. Maybe the chaps behind this project, Niko Salakka and Juho Lepistö, simply felt it had a nice ring to it coupled with ‘kolhoosi’.

Monuments Of Power is their debut album (natch'), and according to Lord Discogs, their debut anything. For the past couple years, Kolhoosi 13 have gone around gathering field recordings, looking for common themes in their samples, and found a fascination with mankind’s ode to the infrastructure that’ll outlast our hubris. At least, that’s the gist I’m getting from this album of almost pure drone.

The opening track, From Comradery To Sustenance, is quite effective in putting you in the middle of a war-ravaged area, scurrying and scuttling about crumbling ruins as mortar shells bombard areas far away, yet too close for comfort. And yet the distant sound of war is surprisingly comforting, as there’s little sign of humanity after that. Sometimes the clank of automated machinery and low thrum of churning engines accompany your haggard travels through an industrial wasteland, but there’s almost no music to nurture the soul here. This is ambient drone stripping away any vestiges of hope for a future, save those who find glory in our brutalist architecture.

Porya Hatami - Land

Somehow Recordings/Inner Ocean Records: 2012/2013

This is the other CD I picked up from Inner Ocean Records’ Bandcamp, completing my collection of Inner Ocean Records CDs as available through the label’s Bandcamp. And if I do some serious hunting and digging, I could get all the CDs the Calgary print released, including Jarrod Sterling’s Distance Is Relative, Void Of Sound’s Black_White, and a remix album of this particular disc too. There might be more, but Lord Discogs doesn’t suggest any, so I’ll take it that’s all Inner Ocean made before transitioning to tape production and the occasional vinyl. I wonder what the cost-ratio with tapes is like. I’ll assume it’s cheaper than CDs, but seeing as how the discs are already pretty darn cheap, it can’t be by much. Is there more of a profit margin on tapes now that they have much greater hipster cred’ than in decades past, folks willing to pay more than the ‘free handout’ price of before? Land of confusion indeed.

Speaking of land, here is Porya Hatami’s debut album, Land. This version on Inner Ocean is actually a reissue, the first coming out a year prior on Somehow Recordings, yet another ambient micro-label that released well over one-hundred items between 2010 and 2013, all on CD. Holy cow! Most of their material is totally new to my eyes, though a couple familiar names do crop up, among them Lee Norris’ Nacht Plank guise. Say, is that where he and Mr. Hatami first crossed paths?

Porya’s style of ambient is mostly defined by his manipulation of field recordings coupled with a delicate touch of glitch-static, soft pads, gentle pianos, twee chimes, and other manner of minimalist melodica. He even released an album called The Garden, with track titles naming off the tiny animal fauna one might find there. Land is obviously larger in scope, but even here ol’ Porya takes a moment to gaze at the very small, with closing track Bug. The melody used in this one sounds as though it could have been sampled from a toy box, including some of the creaking wood one might hear when opening it. Or that could just be recordings played in reverse. It’s all rather abstract, Mr. Hatami aiming for mood over imagery, though I do often feel like I’m chilling by a river or in a field while this plays.

Eight tracks of around six to seven minutes feature in Land, each touching upon a different idea while following a similar structure. Some go super cutesy and tender (Autumn, Sea, Snow), others more droning and abstract (Rain, Storm), and sometime they’ll mesh the two approaches (River, Winter). It all does sound rather similar though, the sort of minimal ambient that navel gazes into its micro-glitch effects to such a degree that it seldom focuses on anything of substance for long, beyond the general tone maintained. Land is a nifty little album for those who appreciate ambient’s form over its function, but does get lost in the background rather easily too.