Urban Meditation - Headspace III

Carpe Sonum Records: 2022

Well, I thought things were gonna' ramp up with each CD in this multi-disc album, and the start of Headspace III certainly portends as such. Another two-part track, the first At Home features more soft electro rhythms while bright and bold synths weave a charming melody. Actually, some of these synths are almost too garish, in the same way some early Berlin-School sounds weren't quite refined yet. Not really a deal breaker for the track overall, but I cannot deny being relieved you don't hear them as much in Part 2. And as for this track, if it doesn't get your ol' school Jarre triggers flaring, then you have some homework to do, son.

So a solid set of openers for this CD, but then Mr. Urban scales things right back with Inner Circles, a minimalist piece of ambient music with gentle piano and field recordings. Hey, it's like an urban meditation! Feels kinda' funny it took this long into Headspace to feature a track that lives up the project's name. I kid, but it is a surprising downswing in tempo from the opener, and when I spotted Canopy Of Stars as a guest feature for follow-up Lost In Thought, I started wondering if we were remaining in ambient's domain after all. Don't get me wrong, I quite enjoy hearing more of Mr. Wheeldon's sense of cosmic grandeur, even as subtly tempered as they are here.

Yet after that, we're treated to another beatless piece leaning into modern classical's domain. Well, okay then, if this is how we're doing Headspace III, so be it. Just thought it'd be better to keep the momentum going after Headspace II. Like, if the whole of Headspace was to be taken as one, singular listening session, having this much downtime in the middle could lose folks. Perhaps that's the intent, offering a gentle respite where you can maybe catch a quick cat nap in this marathon of music without missing much. Or maybe one should just listen these individually as the appropriate mood arises. Which variant of Headspace ambience do you prefer this evening: the spacier I, or the more grounded III?

So you can imagine my whiplash in hearing Myriad Things going even more opulent with the synth work than At Home. Who'd think the groovy acid featured in follow-up Reflected Within would be the comedown I needed after (thanks, Si Matthews, I wager). A weird diversion from the tone thus far established in III, especially when closer Nightfall brings things right back down to piano doodling again.

There is something of a naturalistic theme going for Headspace III, whenever it goes there. Other times though, it feels like the CD that has the 'leftovers' of this whole project lumped into, the tracks that simply wouldn't fit elsewhere. Something as ambitious as this was bound to have pieces like that, especially when including collaborations with others. Does this hold true for the remaining two? Stay tuned...!

Michael Stearns - Encounter (A Journey In The Key Of Space)

Hearts Of Space: 1988

It's not that Mr. Stearns is some unknown entity among the early ambient and modern classical composers. Chap had a well-regarded discography even before truly breaking out with his work on the visual documentary film Baraka. It's just that there were always other artists within his sphere that seemed to get more of the limelight. Your Kevin Brahenys. Your Steve Roachs. Even your Craig Huxleys, to a degree. Heck, despite providing the bulk of music for Baraka, folks almost entirely remember it for the inclusion of Dead Can Dance's The Host Of The Seraphim over any of Michael's particular works. I can't help knocking the sense that Mr. Stearns is always the bridesmaid, never the bride when it comes to those all-important namedrop sessions. Hell, it's taken me this long to get around to any of his albums!

It probably didn't help that for the first decade of his solo career, he was self-releasing his albums on his own Continuum Montage print. Difficult enough getting much press as an indie in the '80s, much less in the still ultra-niche scene of ambient music. Things finally took a turn when he signed with established label Hearts Of Space, from which he debuted with this little item of Encounter (A Journey In The Key Of Space). Now a wider audience could hear all the sonic richness his multi-instrument studio could bring!

Okay, pump the breaks a little there, Syk', we're still dealing with an '80s album. Though Michael gets some solid use out of synth pads, choir pads, and atonal drone, there are moments where the chintzy sounds associated with the decade appear too. On The Way – Space Caravan features spritely keyboards and flat percussion that can't help but sound way dated, while the woodwinds in Alien Shore – Starlight Bay come off quite out of place among all the sci-fi aesthetics. On the other hand, a repeated leitmotif of ominous, mysterious flutes as heard in Craft – Dimensional Release and Distant Thunder – Solitary Witness wonderfully latches onto your brain matter, convincing you you're listening to something of a narrative, Encounter a film score to a TV or Direct-To-VHS movie that never got made.

It such thematic consistency that gives Mr. Stearns a chance to go rather dark and droning in several places throughout this album. Seriously, the early portions of Craft's desolate halls, or the disquieting emptiness of Dimensional Shift – Across The Threshold that follows a cacophonous eruption of synths, all the sort of sonic tricks I'd expect out of a typical Cryo Chamber session.

Still, this is a Hearts Of Space release, so Encounter goes more Contact than Fire In The Sky with its alien explorations. Most pieces are content letting the tranquil beauty of outer space and higher consciousness sweep over you in that grey area where ambient ends and New Age begins. Just nice of Michael to remind us that getting there can be a bit of a scary excursion of sensory overload too.

Cymphonic - Dimensionata

Databloem: 2013

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

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

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

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

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

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

David Cordero - And Stillness Came

Polar Seas Recordings: 2022

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

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

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

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

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

Neotropic - The Absolute Elsewhere

Slowcraft Records: 2018

No, really, I've been meaning to return to Neotropic for a while. Things just slip by, and before you know it, nearly a decade has passed before the opportunity arises again. In this case, it was by way of James Murray's Slowcraft Records and spotting Ms. Maslen's alias among the label's catalogue. “Oh yeah!” says I, “It's been an age since I reviewed Mr. Brubakers Strawberry Alarm Clock. I didn't even know she was still active. How remiss of me.”

Actually, I have heard her sporadically since then, though I didn't realize it. Turns out she's been a frequent collaborator with The Future Sound Of London, most recently contributing some vocals on Environment Five (aka: the one with the power line towers on the cover). They also apparently sampled her on Yage, plus on the song Osho from The Isness. And if that wasn't crazy enough, I just discovered she performed with the FSOL lads on Top Of The Pops, when Papua New Guinea got tapped for a spot on the show. I guess Lisa Gerrard wasn't available.

Actually-actually, this may not be as odd a thing as you'd think, as it turns out Riz Maslen has some serious modern classical, operatic chops in her as well. Right, they may have always been there, I just never came across them when she was mostly producing way-leftfield trip-hop. Going by this album though, it's certainly a field she's more than adept at.

Opener Overture signals the oncoming herald of doom (or something), all moody atmosphere as the horns of war emerging from the hills. Okay, I may be overselling this a little, but it cannot be denied it's an effective piece of music setting a particular tone. Bring on the battle! Oh, wait, it's already over in Your War, a sombre dirge of piano, strings, and Riz' angelic voice (an angel of death, that is!). If you thought this piece was grim, it's got nothing on the desolation of follow-up Wreckage Of Dreams. You know the FSOL track Everything In The World Is Doing Something Without Me? Yeah, like that.

It's not all morose vibes in this album though. The ethereal Byzantium, while sombre in its own right, at least feels like there's some hope on the horizon. Elsewhere, Pleiades is the sort of piece that could use with a Cate Blanchett narration over top, while The Restless gets downright meditative with its low thrum of chants and instrumentation. Then there's Nyolat, the lone proper nod to electronic music with sludgy industrial rhythm as Riz gets her operatic on. Huh, I honestly get more dark ambient Delerium vibes off that one than anything FSOL. Not that Bill and Rhys never got 'inspiration' from Brian and Garry on multiple occasions.

At seven tracks long, The Absolute Elsewhere is rather short, but nor is it the sort of album that needs to be longer than it is. I don't think I could indulge in such melodramatic depression any longer as it is.

The Frozen Vaults - 1816

Voxxov Records: 2015

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

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

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

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

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

Lucette Bourdin - A View From Afar

Dark Duck Records/Fantasy Enhancing: 2012/2021

Thusly, we reach the end of Retrospective Box Set (2005 – 2017). Well, not quite the literal end, the remix album Glimpses Volume 1 the official last numerical CD of this twenty CD collection. Chronologically though, A View From Afar is darn close to the last item within Lucette's actual discography, this and Breath Of Grace released less than a month apart. And since it was released after her passing the year before, these pieces may very well have been the last she crafted before her battle with breast cancer was lost.

But nay, A View From Afar is the final album in alphabetical order (ignore those articles!), and as such, the final album in my twenty-month coverage of this box set. Holy cow, what a journey its been! Well, okay, maybe not, but it is weird to think I've been at this for nearly two years now. There's been flurries of activity (the Nordic Waves series), there's been relative droughts (the gap between Drum-atic Atmospheres and The Mystery Of The Midnight Sun), but by and large, we've progressed through this collection at about an album per month. Have we gained greater insight into one of ambient music's more unsung composers? Or simply plugged along thanks to OCD inertia? Who's to say, but I'd like to think I've come away from this journey hearing more quality music than not.

And how does this final outing with Ms. Bourdin stack up to the rest of her catalogue? 'Tis a'ight, touching closer to her New Age and modern classical side of things compared to her other ambient drone compositions. A tidy six tracker, three pieces breaching the fifteen minute mark, the others hovering around nine-minutes in length. Opener Rising Into Bliss has some mild synth rhythms pattering about in the background before settling into swaying synth pads. Procession Of The Lesser Lights opens with light percussion as well, but is quickly jettisoned for more standard synth noodling. Dream Dancing goes quite ethereal and gentle, while Cascading Waves is bright and shimmery, almost like listening to music glistening off crystals within a waterfall cavern. Rêverie is more moody, while the titular closer is more minimalist. Again, all relatively middle of the road when stacked against the other nineteen albums I've listened to.

Sadly, not a rousing, climatic finale of my coverage of Retrospective Box Set (2005 – 2017), but so it goes. Part of me feels like I should do some sort of Album Ranking, but is that really fair? It's not like I've covered every album Lucette put out, indeed the bulk of her Earth Mantra material still out there in the internet-ether. Maybe if they're consolidated into an additional collection, I'll get to those, but for now, I'm well sated on Ms. Bourdin. I'll definitely return to albums like Rising Fog and Silver Moon and Oceanic Space and Ancient Memories, with the occasional spin of the others down the line. It's been a heck of a trip, yo'.

Tomas Jirku - Touching The Sublime

Silent Season: 2020

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

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

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

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

Daniel Pemberton - Silent Sky

fsoldigital.com: 2013

I had this EP ever since grabbing Space Dive and didn't realize it. I mean, I'm fairly certain I saw it included in the download bundle, but for whatever reason, I never noticed it in my media catalogue. Actually, check that: I did see it, but it was mislabelled, Silent Sky being credited to... Y'know, I forget what the name was. Daniel 'something', but definitely not Pemberton.

Also not doing this EP any favours is just how darn short it is, four tracks in total, none breaking the three minute mark. Heck, it doesn't even make the ten minute mark, it's total running time a svelt nine fifty-two. When tagged along with an unrecognizable Daniel 'whoever', you'll forgive me for thinking Silent Sky just some random bit of sample music Windows sneaked into my media player when I wasn't looking. These computer corporations have been known to do that.

But while we're here, why don't we check in on what ol' Pemby's been up to since I last talked him up. Let's see, that was in 2019, so head over to Discogs and... Oh. Oh wow! He scored that Dark Crystal show? That's dope! I mean, I haven't watched it, because it's on one of those too-many streaming services I haven't a care to subscribe to (D+? Netflix? Peacock? Whatever poor Warner's now called?). Maybe I'll get around to it someday via 'other means', but still, cool project for Daniel to have worked on.

Anything else? Ooh, he scored another superhero movie, that Harley Quinn one, Birds Of Prey. Eh, maybe not as big a get as Into The Spider-Verse, but then, almost nothing else would be (No Way Home? Endgame?). Again, haven't seen it, but then I've got a solid streak of seeing not a single DCEU film since The Dark Knight. Hold strong, Sykonee.

What else...? Hm, some Netflix thing called Enola Holmes, plus Enola Holmes 2. The Trial Of The Chicago 7, also a Netflix joint. Knights And Bikes... The Bad Guys... I might have seen a trailer for that one. Okay, so maybe not huge movies or shows, but just because I've remained somewhat media illiterate regarding that scene doesn't mean Daniel hasn't remained successful. It's clear he's found a footing in his field, and all the more power to him in landing those gigs.

Eh? You say I'm running close to my self-imposed word count limit, and I still haven't talked about this EP? Oh, don't worry, this won't take long. As said, it's four short tracks, each a different part of Silent Sky. I has a high-pitched string to go with its tranquil setting, II follows through with gentle ebbs and flows of pads, III features a more prominent bit of harmonic melody in its use of strings and pads, and IV offers twinkly synths. Ah, night has settled in. What's remarkable is how briskly it all passes by. Yeah, ten minutes ain't much, but I've heard prog tracks of similar length that feel longer.

James Murray & Francis M. Gri - Remote Redux

Ultimae Records: 2019

Yay, James Murray is back! Or, was back, this album having come out a few years ago now. And then, that's only in relation to Ultimae, Mr. Murray remaining a busy-body between his few appearances on the French label. He's got his own label, Slowcraft Records, to release things on, and a second home with Home Normal, a print housing names like Celer, bvdub, Chihei Hatakeyama, and Wil Bolton. It does give an impression that James didn't need to return to Ultimae, but considering his Eyes To The Height was a highlight of the label's past decade, it's nice seeing him return.

Only, I'm not sure how much of Mr. Murray's music is to be found on this particular release, Remote Redux coming off more like a Francis M. Gri joint. Mr. Gri is another in an endless amount of abstract acoustic ambient producers, often employing pianos and guitars while treating them to delay, detuning, and dubbing effects. He, too, has his own label, KrysaliSound, where he self-releases things while housing other names like øjeRum, Tropic Of Coldness, Hirotaka Shirotsubaki, and Wil Bolton. Oh, and James Murray's released an album there, which is how I assume the two crossed paths. Or maybe it was when Gri released an album on Murray's Slowcraft Records. Either or, whichever satisfies your head-canon.

Ma opens things up with a gentle build of discordant strings, subtle pads, and piano touches with delayed tones reaching far into the deepest canyons. The mood gradually escalates as the layers of timbre pile upon each other, before long the piece doing that wall-of-sound thing you might hear on the more drone orientated ambient labels out there. Though with the twitchy strings and minimalist piano, Ma feels more comfortable in a modern classical lane than traditional ambient.

Toma carries forward with similar production, though with acoustic guitar rather than piano the main melodic rudder. For as much melody as there is anyway, this piece more about the harmonic drones washing over your sense of being. Remote uses more reverse delay effects upon strings and pads, all the while maintaining some sense of forward momentum as the tones ebb and flow. These are techniques I've heard Francis use, but not so much James. In fact, aside from some pad support and electronic sprinklings, I haven't heard much out of James, leaving me wondering if he's in more of a support role to Francis. Like, James playing Eno to Francis' Budd.

Speaking of, Lotano is an utterly blissed out piece of dubbed-out modern classical (d'at analogue fuzz!), while Redux brings back the wall-of-sound washes. That's also the end of the album (plus an extended version of Toma), and with only one track out of five breaching ten minutes, relatively short all things considered. It's also unlike any Ultimae record I can recall hearing, the label seldom going this ambient, much less modern classical. Remote Redux would make perfect sense on, say, Dronarivm, but on Ultimae, it's definitely an unique item.

Lucette Bourdin - Nordic Waves Vol. 2: Spring

Dark Duck Records/Fantasy Enhancing: 2012/2021

Anyone else feel weird about seeing spring sitting at the second position of a seasonal series? I get why it's Vol. 2 of Ms. Bourdin's Nordic Waves run of albums, what with the whole thing kicking off on Winter and all. Spring had to follow, because spring always follows winter. Okay, maybe not on a planet like Venus, where its rotation is in reverse, so I guess winter would follow spring there. That's not a good example though, Venus' whole seasonal deal about as messed up as any planet can get – even the rolling ice giant Uranus has regular seasons, extreme though they may be.

Anyhow, what I'm getting at is we just assume spring would be the kick-off for any conceptual seasonal series, because of astrology or something. I find it rather nifty and, dare I say, daring, for Lucette to buck convention like this and shuffle spring over onto Vol. 2 of Nordic Waves. Take that, attention hog Aries!

Vol. 1: Winter ended on something of an upbeat tick, the subtly percolating synths of The One Hundredth Name Of Snow hinting at a world stirring from hibernation. Well, Vol. 2: Spring doesn't waste time in letting you know life is back to its busy, shining self, opener Return Of The Snow Goose all bright, shining synths harking more to the realms of modern classical synth composers than the usual Lucette ambient fare. Oh, and honking geese fly above on occasion, because that's just what I needed: reminders of the Canadian Cobra Chicken. I thought this was relaxing music!

You know what else spring is known for? Showers! ...or unrelenting rain, if you're in coastal regions like Norway and British Columbia. Nice of Ms. Bourdin to craft a track titled as such, though this one is a bit melancholic with its use of violin. Compared to the general moodiness of follow-up Anvil-Head Cloud, however, Unrelenting Rain is downright chipper. And speaking of geography shared by the Nordic regions and the Pacific Northwest, here's the gentle ambience and mysterious tones of Fjords, followed upon by more tranquility and subtle rhythms of Where The Forest Meets The Shoreline. We certain this hasn't turned into a Silent Season outing now?

That's all well and good if you're down for the fjord-pjorn (*cough*), but how about some propah' spring-time sonics? Lucette does spend some tracks bringing us from the ebb of March into the dawn of April, A Month-Long Sunrise doing that ambient drone thing of tones ever morphing into brighter timbre. Crossing The Equinox, meanwhile, gets more on that classic synth vibe, with rhythmic pulses and even pitch shifts. And what spring season is complete without the flooding of alpine meltwater, as captured by White Water – Calm Water, as peppy a tune as we've yet heard out of these Nordic Waves sessions? Not sure how The March Of The Trolls fits in with everything though. Probably Norwegian folklore, such critters forced into retreat from the increased sunlight, lest they turn to stone?

Peter Broderick - Music For A Sleeping Sculpture Of Peter Broderick

Slaapwel Records: 2009

The nifty thing about Slaapwel Records isn't so much their dedication to the artform of sleepy-time music – that's just a nice bonus. Nay, it's the near-complete freedom the label offers its invited artists to indulge themselves. They don't want just some noodly pad drone work stretched out over thirty minutes, there's plenty of that on the market. Let's hear what a shoegaze artist might come up with, or some dudes with tape loops. Or a classic pianist, that'll do too.

I've touched upon Peter Broderick before, a classically trained musician mostly known for piano pieces performed in art houses. Not really my scene, but he makes nice enough music that can be enjoyed in all manner of locales, not just while dispassionately gazing at wall art or floating dancers. A recurring theme in his album work is the Music For... series: Music For The Musical Saw, Music For On Paper Wings, Music For Falling From Trees, and so on. That he would approach a Slaapwel record from such an angle isn't that surprising – what is this label, after all, but music for falling asleep to? That he would take it to such an obtuse angle, however, even caught the label's personnel off guard.

For sure I can envision Mr. Broderick crafting a piece with the intent of sending his own person into the Land Of Nod, as that's something many artists would likely do. I can even envision him taking a photo or video of him falling asleep, and crafting a piece in support of the images portrayed, as though he's serenading a lullaby to himself. Again, something I'm sure many artists would do, as it's the most logical approach to the concept. Yet somehow, even that seemed limiting, as though Peter was performing for a being that really wasn't there, but an abstraction of who he was in the past. No, he wanted to literally perform for his sleeping self, in the flesh, and the only way to do that would rely on dark, forbidden sciences like human cloning or multiverse traversal. Fine, we'll do the next closest thing, a self-sculpture lying in bed.

Honestly, I'm not sure if that's quite accurate – couldn't find much info on Mr. Broderick's creative flow on this project. Still, I can't help but come away bemused by the thought of him sitting in the room with this 'sleeping' sculpture of himself, musically easing the lifeless golem into a state it cannot conceive of.

As for the music, it moves along in stages, angelic choir pads ebbing and flowing for a while, eventually replaced by Peter's gentle piano strokes with some spoken words, then repeating once more before the half-hour's out. It's very Eno, very relaxing, and very soothing on the soul. Peter must have much tender love and care for his sleeping sculpture, because I know I sure am put into great ease of mind as this piece plays out, and I'm a complete stranger to Mr. Broderick!

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!

The Green Kingdom - Empyrean

Dronarivm: 2021

I want to start this review with a total cliche like “Empyrean is the hotly anticipated follow-up to The Green Kingdom's breakout album Harbor”, but there's little truth to that. If anything, the hottest track in his discography is that Untitled 2 from Expanses, released two years before Harbor. Not to mention he's released some half-dozen additional albums since then, so whatever hot anticipation there may have been in the wake of the Hotline Miami 2 exposure has surely subsided some. I certainly don't see any additional LPs keeping pace in his Last.fm scrobbling stats, though Egress seems to have done respectable numbers.

But nay, there's a singular, silly reason why I've sub-consciously built internal hype around Empyrean. After spending half a decade wandering about labels like Lost Tribe Sound, Sound Of Silence, Hidden Vibes, and Past Inside The Present, Mr. Cottone finally returned to the label that nurtured his initial claim-to-fame, Dronarivm. Okay, maybe not 'claim-to-fame', but it's where both Expanses and Harbor were released, so greatest exposure. Maybe. It could have just been incidental coincidence it worked out like that, and something off of Incidental Music instead could have been the Hotline Miami 2 breakout.

(Fun Fact: I actually dozed off while listening to Green Kingdom's Springhill on Deezer, after which the streaming service spent the next seven hours playing music from other artists like Com Truise, Pilotpriest, Zombie Hyperdrive, Magic Sword... and Untitled 2 *ten* times! No wonder that track's got a tonne of streaming plays)

Anyhow, Empyrean is a little different compared to previous Green Kingdom Dronarivm outings, in that there's greater emphasis on piano rather than the usual assortment of acoustic guitar and sound-sample manipulations. I'm not sure whether Michael's gone this route in the past – he's got a lot of albums to sift through, after all. It wouldn't surprise me though, if more inclusion of the ol' ivories has been a recent development in his repertoire. Just like every dance music producer eventually turns to house or techno, every ambient producer eventually turns to modern classical, or minimalist piano at least.

And we're right off into the gentle piano with slide guitar ambience and crackly effects with opening Opalescent, a track that's all but guaranteed to get your Budd & Eno triggers flaring. Sun Tail gets back to the acoustic strumming, while Shinrin-yoku mixes the two up as a something of a duet. And speaking of Harold, Michael dedicates the mid-track Pavilion to him, a tune that I cannot deny, has me getting the weepy feels. It honestly takes me a bit to emotionally recover from that as the album plays out, but fortunately closer Another Sky does the trick with its angelic pads and ethereal guitar strums.

Yeah, Empyrean totally has a 'drifting among the clouds, basking in the filaments of heaven' vibe going for it. Which has been a comfortable lane for The Green Kingdom for a while now. Just this time, more piano, less tape fuzz and digital garbling.

Rapoon - Downgliding

Carpe Sonum Novum: 2015

Starting a label as a spiritual successor to Pete Namlook's Fax +49-69/450464 is all well and good, but surely Carpe Sonum Records has greater aspirations than being an outlet for modern ambient techno musicians. You bet, and after a few years shaking things out with their main label, an off-shoot emerged with the handle of Carpe Sonum Novum. Far as I can tell, this sub-label mostly features music that isn't quite in line with the vintage Fax+ stylee: techno dub, modern classical, future jazz, acid IDM, and the like. Gabriel Le Mar has released a small pile of CDs here, as well as Carpe Sonum Prime regulars Mick Chillage, Thomas Heckmann, and Krystian Shek.

For my inaugural dive into Carpe Sonum Novum, however, I'm going with a little more Rapoon, because we can never go wrong with a little more Rapoon. Unless it's another album like Song From The End Of The World - brrr, it still sends shivers down my spine. Downgliding isn't like that one though. In fact, it's unlike any of the previous three Rapoon albums I've reviewed, though that probably isn't saying much. With a discography as vast as Robin Storey's, odds are good you're getting variety aplenty, never knowing quite what you'll get with each project. It's half the fun!

Actually, Downgliding has some similarities to another Rapoon album I've covered, Psi-Transient, in that they both have elements of modern classical – pianos, plucking strings, and the like. However, whereas Psi-Transient fed such music through Robin's industrial grinder, Downgliding plays things mostly straight, which makes sense for a record out on Carpe Sonum Novum. Can't see off-putting noisy assaults meshing well with RCO's Radical Chill Out, yo'.

The fanciest effects we get are offered in the titular opener Travelling Under. The longest track at eleven minutes long, Robin layers minimalist drones in reverse delay, crafting a mood that, while not eerie or uneasy, certainly airs on the side of cryptic. Follow-up Ocean's Pull uses plucking synths while scaling back the reverse delay effects some, and An Edge Of Blue drenches piano and pads tones in them. Most of the remaining tracks flit between drone tones, plucking synths and grand piano pieces (well, about as grand as Pro-Tools pianos can sound, of which Robin admits to in the liner notes ...and are remarkably grand indeed), many utilizing reverse delay in some capacity.

As for a theme linking all these pieces together, let's see if you can glean one from these track titles: A Weight Of Worlds. Ahab's Odyssey. Encircled. Voyage Fall. The Siren's Eyes. Washed Ashore In Alabaster. Yeah, there's a sense of traversing about the bounding main, and with the modern classical approach to it all, a surprisingly 'high art' vibe for a Rapoon album. It's probably a strained comparison, but I'm most reminded of Harold Budd and Brian Eno's The Pearl, another album I had significant 'marine' feels for. If it was performed with a lot of reverb delay, anyway.

Enya - The Celts

Atlantic/WEA: 1986/1992

The only Enya album I've cared to have, even when I was kinda'-sorta' a fan for a brief time. You know that period, when a parent's musical influence overides everything, before branching out into your own interests. Yet while most of Ms. Eithne Pádraigín Ní Bhraonáin's music wasn't quite to my taste, there's something about her debut album that remains captivating to my ears, a simplicity to the compositions that was lost when future hit songs like Orinoco Flow afforded her grander studio arrangements. Yes, this is totally me saying I prefer Enya when she was underground.

Thing is, she practically did start from the ground up. After a brief stint with traditionalist Irish folk outfit Clannad, she joined up with producer Nicky Ryan for a shot at a solo career, working in a studio built from scratch and very few prospects. Mostly sticking to classical music and Irish folk, they contributed a few tunes to local projects, developing a rather unique style heavily reliant on synths and multi-tracking reverb on her voice, making it more of a choir. About the only comparable artist around at the time was Constance Demby, which undoubtedly played a huge part in Enya getting lumped into the New Age market.

Among these contributions was a piece called March Of The Celts, a moody little number offered to a BBC documentary about the Celts. So impressed were they by it that they commissioned her to score the whole series, the result of which being this here debut album. Well, initially self-titled debut, released to little fanfare, but soon highly sought after with the successes of Watermark and Shepherd Moons, prompting a spiffy re-issue. Aww, but why lose the original bad-ass cover art of Enya posing with wolves?

It's tunes like March Of The Celts that brings me back to Enya's debut. Yeah, the titular opener is more what you'd expect of an Enya piece, a bit bouncy and chipper. Gosh though, there's something captivating about those swelling, ethereal voices and cold synth tones. Then you get to minimalist pieces like Deireadh An Truath, Triad, Dan Y Dwr, and especially Boadicea, and it feels like you're transported to a whole different realm. A gothic-Celtic realm? Despite the nods to traditional music of the ancient tribes, not really, no. The synths strip out any vestige of proper folk, even on tracks like Bard Dance and Fairytale. When tracks do feature normal instruments - various piano pieces, Uilleann pipes in The Sun In The Stream (James Horner undoubtedly noticed) – there's still that icy '80s synth sheen to it all. And I adore it all the more for it!

In many ways, Enya's debut reminds me of Kitaro's work for the Silk Road series. Hired to make music for a documentary, traditionalist works crafted with ancient synth technology, couldn't be replicated even if tried. And, of course, both became giants of a New Age market, even if it wasn't their intent.

Purl & protoU - Sub Life

Dronarivm: 2019

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harold Budd - By The Dawn's Early Light

Opal Records/All Saints: 1991/2018

Harold Budd was responsible for some of ambient music's seminal albums of the '80s, but as that decade drew to a close, one could sense creative stagnation creeping in. The White Arcades was a lovely record of minimalist piano and synth tones, but territory well covered by that point. Budd felt it too, so when the '90s took form, he started embarking on roads distancing himself from the sounds folks were pigeon-holing him into.

The first of these 'experiments' was By The Dawn's Early Light, wherein he assembled four other musicians to Daniel Lanois' New Orleans studio-house. These included viola player Mabel Wong, harpist Susan Allen, guitarist Bill Nelson, and steel guitarist BJ Cole. Ah, sweet, the ol' slide guitar making a comeback into Harold's music, bringing back shades of Afar from The Serpent (In Quicksilver). Oh, more than you know.

The concept for this album was something of a challenge for Budd, in that he was inspired by the assorted half-finished poetry lines he'd written over the years. He wanted to build music around these, invoking feelings the imagery the words conjured, mostly of youthful Americana dreams in dusty California outbacks. Would he use these to create lyrical songs though? And would he have his assorted musicians clinically recreate music he'd write for them, or let the improvisational nature of his jazz background be a guiding force? Well, this is a Budd joint, so obviously the latter. Besides, he'd chosen these particular musicians for their ability to improvise. Simply give them an outline of what he wanted from each instrument with each piece, and let the creativity go from there, their simpatico vibes and chamber music ambience of Lanois' studio-house leading the way.

The poetry portions bookend the album, with an 'interlude' midway, which work wonders in selling the idea of this being more a narrative art piece than just simple music. Boy About 10 starts, with those distinct Budd piano strokes and soft acoustic guitar, then the viola solo starts and... and... oh. Oh my...

So... Harold Budd passed away from COVID complications this past winter, which I honestly didn't know until coming to this album for review. He was 84, so not that much of a surprise he might pass from any variety of ailments. Still, with that knowledge, then hearing this melancholy viola solo, meant to invoke remembrances of Harold as a boy dreaming about a wide world before him... I cannot deny my throat chokes up with such sadness, yet a love for a man's work I've only had a general fondness for.

I really don't know what else to say here. The rest of By Dawn's Early Light gives each musician a chance to perform in a subdued manner, pieces never lasting longer than they need to. There are nice moments about, others more like half-formed sonic sketches. Nothing quite hits me with the same emotional wallop Boy About 10 does though. I don't know if any of Budd's music ever will.

Various - Touched By Silence (The Compilation)

Touched: 2019

As I was poking about HIA's extended Discoggian network, I stumbled upon a new entry within their compilation contributions, this here Touched By Silence. B-Theory, is that a new track? I never recalled seeing such a title from ye' olden days. And gosh, look at the killer's row of talent on this twenty-one tracker! The Orb, Lorenzo Montanà, Gabriel Le Mar, Si Matthews, David Morely, Richard H. Kirk... Ooh, Dub Tractor! I remember him from that Ambient Ibiza CD!

Honey, if you think this digi-comp is something, you should see the eleven CD box-set from which this sprung. Full-length outings from FSOL, Autumn Of Communion, Mick Chillage, Scanner, and many more who've been at this ambient techno game for many years. When Touched does a charity drive for Macmillan Cancer Support, they don't mess around.

So the purpose of this compilation is straight-forward enough. Let's get into some musical details then, should the good cause and sweet assortment of artists not be enticing enough. Oh, and in case you feel you're missing out on that aforementioned FSOL action, fret not, for the opening track from Apertures is a collaboration between Brian Dougans and Ross Baker. They apparently have an album in the works, but Lord Discogs has yet to list anything, nor did I spot anything on the FSOL website. It's a moody modern classical piece with echoing pianos and shimmering psychedelics. Tickle me intrigued.

Okay, the acts I do know. HIA is here, and B-Theory... actually sounds like something that might have been released on B12's Firescope print? I mean, both come from a similar heritage, but I'm missing the playful dub of vintage Bobby Bird. The Orb's cut sounds like it could have been on a Youth-contributing album. David Morley's Vertical System does the cascading Berlin-School synth thing. Si Matthews' Nocture does more a chill, pastoral ambient techno thing. Lorenzo does his bleepy, skittery-rhythm thing in Hola Morning. Le Mar goes almost full world beat with Ingo Ito in When The Trees Are Gone. And Dub Tractor's Blo Rlx One is rather Balaeric and dubby, while Mr. H. Kirk's Dereliction is almost experimental, an utterly empty piece with sparse sounds and effects. A weird addition to a compilation filled with mostly pleasant ambient tones, though not unexpected from the Cabaret Voiltaire member.

And if there's anything I have to quibble about Touched By Silence, it's the wild variance in tracks, including how quiet some go compared to others. Yes, even for a supposed assortment of downtempo artists. For instance, The Orb's upbeat dub-house cut is track three, and surrounded by several beatless, blissful ones. Other rhythm-heavy tracks break up the pure ambience along the way, but not in a fashion that seems conducive to a flowing playthrough, rather half-haphazardly sequenced. Heck, many tracks here could be cappers on a regular release.

Again, that's just a quibble, and doesn't really detract from the whole. There's plenty to enjoy from this compilation, even if the Random button seems turned on.

Ralf Hildenbeutel - Moods

Rebecca & Nathan: 2015

I've said it in the past, but it never hurts to say it again: Ralf Hildenbeutel was easily the soul of Harthouse and Eye Q. Many classic releases from the label's early years bear his musical imprint, a modern classical touch to spaced-out trance records. He was mostly a collaborator though, seldom doing much solo, and as such didn't get nearly the same amount of praise as others on the Harthouse roster. And when he did release an album or two under his own name, they were so far off the expectant path of a 'trance label', I'm not surprised few spoke of them. Well, maybe not Looking Beyond, coming out on the ambient sub-label Recycle Or Die. The modern classical Hommage À Noir on Eye Q though? Heaven forbid!

After Väth's label folded, Ralf essentially parted ways with Sven but continued doing production work for other artists and film scores. He eventually started his own label, Rebecca & Nathan, to release his own material again, which is where we find Mr. Hildenbeutel with Moods, his third album since.

So a modern classical album from one of trance music's earliest producers. I honestly should have expected this – it's not like Ralf has been tearing up clubland since the '90s. Some reason I couldn't shake the assumption that maybe, just maybe, he'd lean more into the electronic side of things. The William Orbit path, if you will. I certainly wasn't expecting something closer to the Harold Budd domain, with gentle pianos all about. Misty opens with a fair amount of reverb and echo on them ivories, a soft electro pitter-patter underneath. Beyond is more in mind of what Moods has in store, with additional cello and violin action, firmly placing things in the modern classical camps despite the sparse synths used in support. Elsewhere, Lucid switches things up a little with acoustic guitar, while Lost goes a little more abstract in its production. It's all quite lovely stuff, soft emotional weight in these pieces. It's just a shame so many of them are rather short, befitting more of arts showcases than sit-at-home listening.

Speaking of, let's talk about the two pieces that you may have heard off here, as they had videos done for them, and are quite out of sorts with the rest of Moods. Disco is a pure electronic outing, with percolating synths ebbing and flowing about. A simple idea, though the rotoscope video is pretty cool. Spark, on the other hand, lulls you in with an orchestral cue, then erupts with crunchy, glitchy beats, bleepy electronics, and symphonic swells. It's totally an odd man out, a bizarrely aggressive tune for such a generally tranquil album. I do not recommend trying to fall asleep to Moods because of it, as Spark will rudely knock you out of whatever daydream you happen to be enjoying. More of Ease please, with its side-chained rhythmic throb. Reminds me of good ol' Asura, that one does.