The Future Sound Of London - Environment Six

fsoldigital.com: 2016

It should have marked a triumphant return to electronic music media. Instead, Environment Five, The Future Sound of London’s first full album of original material since the ‘90s, was met with another indifferent shrug. For sure a few of the UK’s more prestigious rags scoped it out, in the process allowing some nostalgic look-backs to groundbreaking rave era Dougans and Corbain material. Having exhausted that angle, however, and FSOL failing to deliver the Instant Modern Classic such folks assumed was in the works, most music journals moved on, Environment Five joining Boards Of Canada’s Tomorrow’s Harvest in the Over-Hyped Return bin (when can we add Random Access Memory to the pile?).

Thus it is with as little fanfare as possible that we return to this series a couple years later. Seriously, I saw no PR leading up to Environment Six, the only hype apparently a Facebook posting. I only found out about it by chance, checking their website for details regarding another side-project, Blackhill Transmitter. Then lo’, there it was, not one, but two new Environment albums. Well geez, better snatch those up post-haste. Surely folks will be buzzing about these soon enough (nope).

At twenty-three tracks, Environment Six looks daunting, but less than half of these break the three-minute mark, only one passing six minutes. Not that this is anything new, FSOL long known for their sonic doodles and half-formed musical ideas, such pieces serving as interludes, transitionals, or experimental indulgences that could never form Proper Tunes. And we generally allow it as they often serve a greater thematic whole within the context of their albums. Even these Environments, as loosely defined as they are, still adhere to some conceptual structure. This one though, I dunno – there’s more random meandering than ever here.

It starts out fine enough, the first few tracks reasonable lengths and exploring the usual future sounds Cobain and Dougans so often do - Polarize does the epic post-apocalypse thing, Mountain Path a meditative ambient thing, Thought Pattern a minimalist ambient techno thing. Elsewhere, Lichaen takes the tried-and-tested psychedelia path, Sol 7 goes all dubby glitch, Symphony For Halia provides a haunting, static-dub vibe straight out of Ultimae’s textbook, Plausibility opts for pure orchestral psychedelia, Yut Moik comes off like a long-lost track from Warp’s Artificial Intelligence series, and Leak Stereo 70 does a brisk, micro future-funk jam.

A nifty assortment of FSOL tunes, all said, though little thematically linking them together. Matters aren’t helped that tons of disjointed sonic doodles are littered amongst as individual tracks, seldom letting anything stick in your brain before quickly moving onto the next wayward muse FSOL follows. An ultra-short synth-arp tease in Seq/-9 is especially egregious. The final couple tracks - Meanders and Solace - are decent closers, but fail to sum Environment Six in any meaningful way. I don’t have much problem with ‘music for its own sake’, but it’s nice having some cohesive reason to sit down and take a full album in.

Synergy - Electronic Realizations For Rock Orchestra

Passport Records/Third Contact: 1975/2013

For a while, I figured the reason Larry Fast’s Synergy project never got the same buzz as his ‘70s synth contemporaries was due to his being American. All the biggest names in this high-concept, technical-wizardry scene hailed from Europe, where pushing the boundaries of Art was accepted, encouraged, and applauded by the music press. Meanwhile, in America, folks were still clinging to that good ol’ rock ‘n’ roll music, whether it be AM radio soft jams, funk fusions, or that punky stuff brewing in the East coast. While I can’t claim everyone in the U.S. of A. was anti-synthesizer, it certainly wasn’t as popular an instrument compared to elsewhere in the world, to say nothing of those who made extravagant compositions consisting of this cutting-edge hardware. So of course poor Larry Fast would be ignored in his home country, no matter how pioneering his works might have been.

Then I realized the truth of the matter is a lot simpler. It’s not that Fast was overlooked despite being among the earliest American adopters of pure synth music, it’s just that he wasn’t the first. Nay, that distinction goes to none other than Wendy Carlos, beating Fast to the game by several years. You can give ol’ Larry plenty of plaudits for taking up the mantle of American modern classical musicians when there still weren’t many around, but the country only cares about who got there before everyone else. No exceptions.

Speaking of firsts, here’s the debut Synergy album, Electronic Realizations For Rock Orchestra, about as egg-headed a title as you could get in the ‘70s. Fortunately, it’s something of a piss-take on the growing fad of prog-rock bands going full opera with their endeavors, especially those who ironically claimed being above all that (hi, Queen!).

The record consists of three pieces that break the ten-minute mark, and two shorter ones hover about six minutes. The opener, Legacy was even featured in the Cosmos soundtrack, and for the longest time, I never made the connection it was the same Synergy that would go on to do Cords and The Jupiter Menace. Even longer, I didn’t realize that particular composition featured on his debut either, not until I actually bought this and threw the CD on. Felt mighty sheepish being thrown for a loop hearing those cascading synths right off, you bet’cha. There’s just not much in the way of Synergy documentaries.

Slaughter On Tenth Avenue is a spiffy cover of the Richard Rodgers ballet, part of a Broadway musical. Makes sense that, while Tomita was doing classical covers, Fast would tackle something a little more American. Final track Warriors goes full modern classical in its composition, perhaps a tad twee in doing so, but sounds great if you dig your closing credit sequences in SNES-era jRPGs. The shorter pieces sound more like Fast showing off his technical skill on these cumbersome keyboards, which was just the thing to do at the time. Ask Rick Wakeman about it.

Valiska - A Day As A Blade Of Grass

Inner Ocean Records: 2013

I name-dropped this label a few months back, partly as a quip in yet another list of obscure ambient prints so many producers float to and from on. The only thing that honestly caught my eye regarding Inner Ocean Records is the fact it’s a Canadian outfit, not that anyone reading that particular review would know it (or maybe so, if they’re Porya Hatami completists). For whatever reason, I checked Inner Ocean a little deeper, and intrigued by their wares, snatched up every single CD their Bandcamp had on offer. All two of them. Quite a few cassettes though. Eh, I’ll pass on that format, thank you.

What’s even quirkier about that ‘splurge’, is of the two CDs I got, this particular release from Valiska, barely constitutes a traditional CD release. A Day As A Blade Of Grass is a single track, lasting all of twenty-four minutes, plunking it in the realm of EPs. It’s also the sort of release I’d expect to stumble across in the CD3 format ‘90s ambient labels would indulge in, before digital means rendered them moot. I’m surprised mini-discs haven’t also formed their own comeback as a hip collectable – they’re certainly no less impractical than tapes in our modern age. Maybe if Blood Music starts distributing them, we’ll see a resurgent market of CD3s.

Valiska is Krzysztof Sujata, and hails from Calgary (Inner Ocean’s base of operations), despite what you might assume based on his name (Polish India?). Although given the nature of the music within this album-EP-composition, it wouldn’t surprise me if he did originate from some Eastern Europe bloc homestead, that region flush with experimental ambient shoegaze-drone sorts; you sure don’t think of Canadian prairie country when it comes to this sound. He’s released about a dozen items this past decade (so sayeth The Discogs), some through his own means, others on various obscure experimental net labels that skew towards the indie rock side of things. He also happens to do digital mastering, so if you need a spit-shine to your drone-gaze glitch-twang demo tape while checking out the Calgary Stampede, give him a shout.

Though I currently lack the needed citation, I’ll assume A Day As A Blade Of Grass aims to literally capture what it’s like to live one’s life as a blade of grass – lawn, pasture, open field, Icelandic roof-top… any type of poaceae. Dawn breaks with tranquil, ambient pianos, solar photons providing our grass with vital energy to aid in photosynthesis. Soon though, abrasive, caustic distortion and guitar feedback emerge, disrupting the once calm mood. The animals and machines have come, trampling your space with hoof, claw, boot, and tire. Grazers chomp and chew at your surroundings, seldom leaving you a moment’s peace. Other sounds – reverse tape loops, detuned strings, grinding and clattering, feed a harrowing third act, respite only granted as the day finally recedes into night, our singular blade still alive for another day. Man, who knew grass had it so tough?

Lustmord - Dark Matter

Touch: 2016

It’s improper of me starting an inexplicable dark ambient collection without gathering up releases from some of the agreed-upon legends of the scene. That’d be like getting into trance without checking out Oliver Lieb, or house music without copping Frankie Knuckles. Not to mention digging techno while ignoring the Belleville Three, or taking in jungle without a single Goldie single – my lone copy of Inner City Life on a Canadian compilation saves me such indignity.

So Lustmord was an obligatory purchase sooner rather than later, and to be honest, I’ve had my eye on the chap’s material for a while. His earliest material was in the vein of experimental stuff industrial artists were doing in the ‘80s, but along the way he adopted the lengthy drones of ambient composers, plus a fascination for the haunting emptiness of ancient caverns and the cosmos itself. He probably wasn’t the first to do it, but his 1994 album The Place Where The Black Stars Hang is widely regarded as the definitive example of space dark ambient, an LP frequently namedropped by all those who came after. You bet it’s on my list of “One Day, Eventually” albums I must own!

For now though, I’ll take in something more current, and it just so happens Lustmord returned to the realm of universal drone this past year, with Dark Matter. The concept is familiar enough with anyone that’s followed this style of dark ambient: take the natural, electromagnetic sounds of the cosmos – from the smallest molecules and charged particles, to the largest solar flares and quasars - and do as you will with them. Sampling these sounds is practically part of space ambient’s gene code now, especially ever since the Jet Propulsion Laboratory released their Symphonies Of The Planets series, recordings of planetary electromagnetic signals captured by the passing Voyager probes. These recordings are such a staple now, they’re almost cliché. Perhaps that’s why it took Lustmord this long to fully explore its potential - he felt it a classic case of “it’s been done.”

Or he was waiting to have complete, unfettered access to all the N.A.S.A. audio archives rather than those few commercially released ones. A man with his standing would definitely get that eventually, thus Lustmord finally gives us a full taste of cosmic drone, complete and utter in its various sources. And… I can’t really explain much more beyond this, can I? Folks familiar with electromagnetic sound experiments will be enthralled in the journey Lustmord takes with them, while the rest won’t have much inclining of what’s going on.

Of the three tracks here (each breaching twenty minutes apiece, though the first nabs a hefty seven extra for itself), only Subspace offers anything resembling music, and that’s soon subsumed by the cosmic drone too. There’s an ever-present deep thrum of drone, as though the universe is breathing, and sounds proper-huge when you crank your stereo. Your neighbors will wonder if there’s a black-hole core in the building.

Czarface - Czarface

Brick Records: 2013

Much as I’ve enjoyed Inspectah Deck’s rhymes in the past, it didn’t look like the album market would ever yield an all-time classic. Some dope moments scattered throughout, but nothing that compare to most of his Wu-Tang brethren. And it appears even Mr. Hunter had come to this conclusion too, 2010’s Manifesto his last proper album, and seemingly his final one as a solo artist. He may drop a mixtape here and there, but for the most part he seemed content moving on, supplying guest verses for Wu affiliates while working the touring circuit. It’s where the real money lies anyway, and there’s plenty back-catalog between his material and Wu-Tang hits that he could ride the rest of his career out that way.

Then I started hearing buzz about Czarface, sprung up practically overnight. Could it be true, a Rebel INS project that finally captured all the fiery MCing I loved from his early Wu verses, wrapped up in some nebulous nerdcore concept? No way it could be that dope, and true enough it wasn’t quite that, but definitely enough going on here that talk of “the old-school fire is back” and “career renaissance” have steadily built Czarface up as one of the hottest, throwback underground groups around. Oh yeah, did I forget to mention this is a partnership between Deck, Esoteric, and 7L? How remiss of me.

Truth be told, I don’t have much to say regarding the DJ and One MC combo of 7L & Esoteric, because I don’t know much about them at all. The names have floated on the periphery of my attention since their breakout at the turn of the century, always in association with underground hip-hop acts that commanded a little more mainstream attention (now isn’t that an oxymoronic sentence!). I didn’t dig further though, as I always got 7L confused with either the riot grrl punk band L7, or the R&B singer LV (aka: the sweaty guy from Coolio’s Gangsta’s Paradise). How I got a DJ mixed up as either, I haven’t a clue, though never actually taking in a 7L & Esoteric production certainly didn’t help matters. And I didn’t hear great buzz about them in all these years because the duo hails from Boston. Unless you’re a serious head, underground hip-hop hype from the Massachusetts capital won’t break through on my side of the continent. And I’m a Basic Casual at best.

Anyhow, Deck had collaborated with the duo before, and when they approached him with their idea of a vintage boom-bap rap album that’d play to both Rebel’s and Esoteric’s lyrical style, Mr. Hunter joined forces to form Czarface. Throw in guest spots from Ghostface, Action Bronson (plus others I don’t recognize), and a few productions from DJ Premier too, and you’ve got an instant underground hit. One that must have got the creative juices fired up something fierce, as two more LPs were released in short order. Which I got as well. Oh yes, Czarface will return soon, my friends.

Ugasanie - Border Of Worlds

Cryo Chamber: 2016

Winter is done. It’s over. Finished. Us pampered folks on the West Coast of Canada no longer must deal with the snow and the sleet and the ice and shmulsh and the canceled buses and trains. Nothing but spring weather from here on out. Wet, yes. Cold at times, definitely. The air suffocating with seeds, spores, and pollen? Sure, but it beats dealing with delayed flights due to white-out conditions. This is why I live at sea level, after all, and not in the mountain regions of my land, where winter doesn’t end until June. Or the Northern regions of my province, though I’m pretty certain their winter ends a little earlier.

Point being, for yours truly, winter is no more, so it’s about time I take in another album of bitter cold dark ambient from Ugasanie. Hey, what can I say? The Arctic reaches continuously fascinate me, the inhospitable, impassable alpine tundra captivating me. Lands where only the heartiest of species have a hope of surviving. I mean, just look at that mountain range on the cover art. Just look at it! What hope have thee, of traversing such imposing, insurmountable icons of icy escarpments? No seed may take root, no hoof may climb, no wing may navigate, but for certain peril and doom assured. To lay eyes on such natural wonders of our world – awesome in size and terrible in domain – to even have hope of hiking across their frigid, treacherous paths… is such a thing I’ll never achieve. Remember, pampered Vancouverite. That doesn’t stop me from getting my Consciousness Displacement on though, imagining such vistas as I take in the blasting-cold sounds of this particular style of dark ambient.

In Border Of Worlds’ case though, such sounds are window dressing to Ugasanie’s main focus, taking a trip into a shaman’s trip. It’s a concept Mr. Угасание has explored before, the deep dive into primal forces of the human mind and spirit, as endured by those in some of the most remote, isolated places of our globe. Call Of The North dealt with a sort of ‘Arctic madness’ such regions may cause on those susceptible to auroa borealis’ dancing charms. This undertaking is a proper trek into the inner psyche though, taken by shamans of tribes that dwell in the northeastern portions of Russia. Oh, and mushrooms are involved too.

Even for droning dark ambient, Border Of Worlds is thick with the drone. Most tones and field recordings sound impossibly distant, whether from the isolation of northern winter huts, or feelings of being withdrawn within as the shamanic trip takes hold. There’s sounds of tribal drumming (Obfuscation), howling winds/wolves (White Death), haggard breathing (Initiation), and staggered hiking (In Cold Arctic Winds), almost all of which are buried by the unrelenting drone. Some tracks do offer glimmers of tense, melancholic tonal harmony, almost as a tease out of whatever intense mediation is taking place here. For the most part though, Uganasie offers little respite in this journey.

Gost - Behemoth

Blood Music: 2015

Continuing my search for more hard-copy synthwave that isn’t another Perturbator release, we now find ourselves in the lands of Gost. Not a major leap, I’ll grant, Mr. Lollar clearly appearing on the same label as Mr. Kent – you just can’t knock that spiffy Blood Music artwork! Heck, the Pertubatortating One even provides a bonus remix to the titular cut on this album, and Behemoth frequently crops up in those ‘Recommendations’ algorithm lists any time I click a Perturbator CD. This isn’t so much cruising the streets in search of a different burger shack, but rather moseying to a subsidiary of the same chain. If Blood Music remains the best provider of synthwave CDs though, I see no reason in drifting from this zone anytime soon. Your move, Other Synthwave Labels.

Funny thing is Gost didn’t start out as a strict synthwave guy, at least not to the extent most associate the scene with. His debut album, Skull, had more in common with the sort of music the Ed Banger posse was putting out the previous decade (do they still? I honestly haven’t kept tabs on that French crew). There were still touches of sparkly retro synths complementing the grinding, distorted acid squawking though, plus a clear fondness for ‘80s horror movies and scores. Guess that’s enough for Gost getting lumped into the synthwave camps instead. Hey, anything to shake up the scene’s predilection towards pure Hammer and Carpenter clones.

(side note: Hammer & Carpenter would make an awesome name for a synthwave duo!)

Behemoth is Mr. Lollar’s second full-length, and debut with Blood Music. As he’s still somewhat unproven compared to the label’s synthwave poster boy, Gost only got six vinyl variants, none of which contain the bonus remixes the CD does, so ha-ha! No, really, having two versions of Reign In Hell is fuckin’ sweet. The original tune hits you with one of the gnarliest basslines I’ve ever heard out of the electro-trash camps, all rubbery, acidy synth goodness with a solid house beat to match. The silly thing doesn’t even last two minutes though, abruptly crashing into a chipper, if standard synthwave cut in Tongue. Thank God (Gost?) that Reign In Hell gets the proper remix treatment from Dance With The Dead, supplying that killer bassline in droves, complementing with wicked synth pads and hooks, squealing guitar solos, and one of those ‘I Kans Kaos Pad’ things the glitch hop guys often wank over to. Eh, two out of three ain’t bad.

Most of Behemoth sticks to the synthwave style Perturbator’s practically made his own – the high-octane darksynth, some retro homages, the sludgy metal detours, etc. - though Gost cranks his crunchy bass end into overdrive whenever he can. And unlike Mr. Kent, he doesn’t really craft a narrative, simply relying on the ‘Glory To Baalberith’ theme to hang his tunes off throughout. Though admittedly, the titular cut serves as one badass finale, what with apocalyptic choirs chanted “Be-He-Moth” like he’s a silver-haired super-soldier attaining Deity status.

Chihei Hatakeyama - Above The Desert

Dronarivm: 2016

As important it is finding reliable artists and labels that sustain your music cravings, even more important is the trusted shop that exposes you to something new and different. Well, maybe not radically different – gotta’ stick to that comfort zone, after all – but at least material you’d have overlooked had the staff’s recommendations not steered you in that direction. One of the surprising options I’ve come across is Ultimae’s shop at their website. Of course they shill their own material, but offer up quite a few other items from other sources too. Now isn’t that mighty classy of ‘em, letting competing labels hawk their wares on their webspace (for a small financial reparation, I’m sure). Once a year I peruse the Ultimae Shop, and have come across some mighty fine selections indeed, including Distant System, and the compilation Absence Of Gravity, my first exposure to AstroPilot.

It is under such circumstances I’ve now come into audio contact of Chihei Hatakeyama, yet another in the bottomless bay of drone ambient musicians. Seems he’s had a tidy solo career the past decade, a few dozen albums to his name. Naturally, that’s more than I’ll ever get to listen to, but if I’m gonna’ do a review of this latest(ish) album of his, Above The Desert, I’d better get some discographic knowledge-son crash coursing through my earholes. Let’s see what Superion Spotify has on offer.

Ooh, quite a few of his albums, turns out. Guess I’ll just fire up his most popular ones for a sampling and- wait, what’s this? His top track, Ferrum, has over five-and-a-half million plays!? Holy cow, that’s astounding! I had no idea he was this popular! How’d I ever miss-

No, wait, most of his top tracks linger in the five-digit range. Very respectable numbers for an ambient drone artist, true, but it looks like this Ferrum is an anomaly, only a couple six-digit hit tracks even coming close. Why did this one track do such damage? Was it featured on an HBO Original soundtrack? Namedropped by Wolfgang Voigt? Did Buzzfeed include it in a 14 Drone Masterpieces You Must Hear RIGHT NOW! feature? So many questions…

As for Above The Desert, I can definitively say this is indeed another Chihei Hatakeyama LP of pleasant drone ambient. Timbres blend into an amorphous tonal soup, where it doesn’t seem like much happens if you play it in the background, though layers do emerge with a little focus. There’s always something distinct humming underneath the main pads – soft clattering in Before The Sabbath, creaky field recordings in Wind In Mind, gentle guitar strums in A Placid Mountain Lake. Most tracks run an average of seven minutes, with a whopping nineteen-minute piece to close out. The Tower Of Babel’s a curious track too, always feeling like it’s wrapping up soon. Yet it just keeps on going. And going. And going. Never ending, forever traversing whatever path ol’ Chihei leads it along. It’s like a dancehall rapper of noodly pad work.

Sabled Sun - 2148

Cryo Chamber: 2016

After completing his third Sabled Sun album, 2147, Simon Heath put out the idea of taking the project into its past - prior to the current protagonist’s cryo awakening, and to the point of when it all went wrong. While I’m sure some would love a little insight into the Sabled Sun backstory, I can’t say I was one of them. The project’s strength lies not in How Things Came To Be, but rather How Might Things Move On. Whatever caused this cataclysm can be revealed through the course of our protagonist’s journey, for seeing how he copes with this hostile environment is a far more compelling narrative, especially where dark ambient is concerned, what with the genre’s frequent themes of isolationism and all.

Regardless, it appeared Mr. Heath was content in letting the current focus of the Sabled Sun tale take a respite of some sort, ending 2147 with a sufficient amount of hope as allowable given the circumstances. After the first two years/albums presented us with despair and ruin, the third showed signs of recovery, a world not completely dead, though undoubtedly untamed and feral, civilization in total remission if any remained. Though but a glimmer, it was enough optimism to look forward to the future. Thus, it seemed our protagonist had enough of his sickly wanderings, and went back into his cryo sleep, perhaps reviving in a world better recovered from when he first woke. Sadly for him, one year later is hardly enough time.

Again, though the specifics are left vague enough for your own interpretation, 2148 does mark a departure from previous Sabled Sun albums, in that our protagonist is dealing with a different situation. Instead of wandering desolation and ruin in search of answers and survival, something more specific is taking place. Upon re-awakening, the tone is more claustrophobic than before, an environment much different than the one 2147 left off. There’s less sense of open world discovery, instead poking about a specific location, as though trapped in a facility that, while not fully functional, is still active enough that it raises questions of who left the power on. Is it automated? Might there be other survivors? How did he even end up here? And what, pray tell, is Project Locus Arcadia? It certainly must be important, given it’s the second longest track on 2148, and possibly the most ‘musical’ among all the typical sci-fi field recordings and dark ambient drone expected of a Sabled Sun CD. If anything, Project Locus Arcadia sounds like an homage to John Carpenter, though done in Cryo Chamber’s brand of post-apocalyptic tone.

But more than that… dude! Locus Arcadia again! I’ve joked about this label having continuity between their releases, but does this actually confirm they’re going this route? Does this mean we’ll have to start collecting Cryo Chamber albums like comic books to keep speed with their ongoing narrative? Has any label attempted such a thing!? This is, of course, all suppositional, but still… Dude…!

Banco de Gaia - The 9th Of Nine Hearts

Disco Gecko: 2016

I shouldn’t feel like Banco de Gaia’s last album, Apollo, is still a recent release. It’s been three years since it came out, and Toby Marks has provided us with numerous items in that time. Singles, remix albums, 20th Anniversary re-issues, expansion of his Disco Gecko print to include music from outside artists. For all intents the Banco & Co. brand has been busier than its ‘90s heyday, which should leave Apollo already a distant memory, this newer, fresher album of The 9th Of Nine Hearts tingling and tugging at my earholes in anticipation. That super-long gap between albums prior to Apollo must have jaded me some, figuring ol’ Toby had turned into one of those “eh, whenever” musicians that was content riding out his past works into the sunset of his career. Sure am glad this album proved me totally wrong on that front!

If Apollo was Mr. Marks finding his ‘90s mojo once more, then The 9th Of Nine Hearts finds him fully expanding upon it with all the song-writing skill attained since then. More consistent throughout, more nuanced in themes explored, more confident in reviving old ideas in service of a new era, this is the album casual fans had been hoping from Banco since… well, whatever they figure was his last, official ‘Best LP’. Pretty sure it isn’t anything from his wayward ‘00s era.

This one though, it’s got spiffy worldly beat-jams (Le Foucauld, No Hablo Italiano), rising proggish rock-jams (Burn The Witch), and throwback ambient dub with guest Pink Floyd saxophonist jams (The Princess And The Sky Goat - and yes, that’s Dick Parry horn tootin’ again). Then there’s ultra-throwback dance cut 91, where Marks teams up with vocalist Sophie Barker (of The Egg’s Walking Away fame) for a retro-rave tune that’s proper old-school acid house in tone, but nice and crisp for contemporary ears.

Amongst all these tunes are plenty of downtempo and ambient tracks that show off Banco’s matured songcraft over the years. Opener Nine Hearts has a widescreen, dream-pop tone with swelling synths and piano doodling. Bookmarking the album is another piano piece in This Heart, incredibly soft, gentle, melancholic, but strangely optimistic too. Not sure why it reminds me of Neil Young’s piano folk – maybe it’s my only real frame of reference to piano music of this sort?

Elsewhere, Warp And Weft gets all ethereal and trippy with Banco’s ambient dub, Midnight Sun goes full-on ethereal, and the middle portion of the album is highlighted by two contrasting pieces. Seriously, Is-Is Loves Anhk-An-Atum and So We Dream Of Futures Lost work so well together, I thought they were the same track on several early playthroughs. This actually happened with a few tracks on this album, 9th Of Nine Hearts one of the best flowing Banco albums in ages. In fact, if I’m to level any significant criticism against it, it’s almost too smooth for the amount of musical diversity on here. I can live with that.