James Murray - Eyes To The Height

Ultimae Records: 2016

Mister Murray made his debut with Ultimae Records when the French label was in the midst of its Second Generation push. This included acts like Cell, Hol Baumann, Hybrid Leisureland, and I Awake, most of whom I snatched albums from once I finally decided I should splurge on Ultimae’s entire back-catalog while they were still in print. Um, Murray’s LP, Where Edges Meet, wasn’t among them, so don’t go expecting that review once I get to the ‘W’s in my endless musical quest.

Lord Discogs says he didn’t do much after that for a few years, though eventually got into the label game with his own print, Slowcraft Records, started up in 2012. He floated among a couple other labels, and provided some podcast mixes for the webzine Headphone Commute, all the while dropping an occasional track for an occasional Ultimae compilation. He didn’t seem terribly high of profile with Aes Dana’s print though, so it was a small surprise that he’d return to it with another full-length album eight years after his first one.

And friends, thank Chillzarn, The God Of Chill, he did, because ol’ James has brought with him something that’s been seriously lacking throughout many Ultimae releases of late: actual melody! As in, chord progressions that lodges in your head, tones that tease out more emotion than isolated introspection, and much less emphasis on losing your headspace within the spacious dub-chill mixdown Ultimae’s been enamored with. For sure it’s still there, with pad work that paints a widescreen canvas like the foggy backdrop of an open field; however, things aren’t so obscured and impenetrable as the label’s recent releases go, details and foreground scenery present and clear. (the cover art really is apt for the music within)

I should make clear we’re not talking Solar Fields level of melodic power here, but it’s definitely more than we’ve heard since… geez, Circular’s Moon Pool? For the most part, Mr. Murray applies a gentle touch to his music, spritely tones found in tracks like The Black And The Grey, Holloways, Eyes To The Height and Ghostwalking. Others, like What Can Be Done, Passing Places, and Laterisers, go more towards the dronier aspects of ambient dub, muffling his melodies as though wrapping them in a soft blanket. Particles, which features two parts in this album, makes use of heavily treated piano, creating a lovely refrain complemented by breathy vocal pads and delicate rhythms (seriously, I feel as though these ‘beats’ could break if I breathe on them). Part 2 of Particles is about as close to a Solar Fields styled ambient tune as we’ve heard on Ultimae in some time, and closer Copestone offers a little vintage ambient-bleep vibe. Not quite HIA On Ultimae, but nice nonetheless.

Even if you’ve been wishy-washy about this label’s dalliances into dub-techno these past few years, Eyes To The Height is well worth scoping out. Murray brings some genuine feels back to Ultimae’s ranks, a trend that hopefully takes hold in future releases.

Czarface - Every Hero Needs A Villain

Brick Records: 2015

Less than two years after Czarface caught the attention of discerning underground heads, Inspectah Deck along with 7L & Esoteric returned to their comic-book inspired, anti-hero/posi-villain creation. And this time, “it’s personal.” No, wait, that doesn’t make sense. Maybe, “…and this time, they Czar harder!” Nope, that’s even less sense. Maybe “Not a hoax, not a dream – this album, Czar’s enemies DIE!” Look, most of my comics reading consists of Transformers. I dabbled in some Marvel stuff in my youth, and keep tabs on the industry for curiosity’s sake, but aping classic taglines? You’re better off consulting Linkara.

The chaps behind Czarface though, they know the scene they're taking influence from, filling their rhymes with all sorts of nods to nerd culture. You don’t need intimate knowledge of comics, wrestling, and sports (!) to enjoy these two MCs and one DJ doing their thing, but it certainly helps. The eight-minute long opus on this album, Escape From Czarkham Asylum, is loaded with them – heck, even the title alone is a nod. Deck spends a whole verse comparing the impact of his bars to that of rampaging kaiju, and Esoteric gets in similar lines too (“I’m 90 Yao Mings tall, I’m 50 Fat Joes wide”; “My footprint is bigger than Fenway Park”).

And holy cow, but the production on this track is nuts! So many change-ups throughout, running through funky licks, straight-up boom-bap, and a tight electro thing with Airplane warning pings (makes sense with all the flight metaphors in that verse). True, an eight-minute long rap track needs some diversity to keep it interesting all the way through, but this whole album’s filled with dope, diverse beats. If the debut was about this trio throwing some jams out for the fun of it, Every Hero Needs A Villain finds them taking things more seriously, showing not just the verbal synergy between Deck and Eso’ but the production talents of 7L too.

For sure the boom-bap dominates, as it plays best to the Rebel’s and Eso’s strengths as rappers. In fact, the two have remarkably similar flows, their regional accents about the only identifiable difference (bar construction too). Funky jams find more room here compared to Czarface, including tracks like Lumberjack Match, ladies come-on cut Nightcrawler with a guest spot from Method Man, and the punch-line heavy Junkyard Dogs with JuJu (oh my God, these lyrics! Dr. Octagon reference!). Elsewhere, the production gets experimental, When Gods Go Mad offering something more cinematic (GZA verse!), while Ka-Bang! goes grimy and minimalist, which suits guest rapper MF Doom’s style just fine. Ooh, now there’s a crossover issue made in heaven-hell: Czarface vs. MF Doom. Maybe Deltron Zero can make a cameo!

I don’t ask for much in my hip-hop. Some verbal dexterity, killer beats, and metaphors that don’t fly over my head like Greatest American Hero is plenty. Twice now, Czarface has delivered as a pair of ace spades. Will their third album serve up the triple? (note: never let me ghost-write lyrics)

Jean-Michel Jarre - Equinoxe

Disques Dreyfus/BMG: 1978/2014

Despite being a solid follow-up to Jarre’s synth-wizardry debut Oxygene, Equinoxe remains overshadowed by its elder sibling. Like, why hasn’t Jarre’s sophomore earned itself a spiffy New Master Recording? Or a conceptual return three volumes deep? Not to mention the oodles of EP re-releases, usually coinciding with a greatest hits package. And while a couple tracks from Equinoxe often make the cut on such compilations, Oxygene dominates the selection process.

Part of this has to do with the fact Equinoxe pretty much is a continuation of ideas and sounds already explored in Oxygene - and as we all know, it’s primarily the First of something that gets all the attention. As Jean-Michel’s career carried on through the decades, it was marked by several other significant moments that took up space in your standard Cliff’s Notes recaps: the mega-concerts, the switch to digital from analog, the switch back to analog from digital, the on-again off-again relationship with club culture, etc. With so many talking points to touch upon, its unsurprising discussion of ‘the album that came after Oxygene’ isn’t the highest priority.

But important it is. Not Very Important, mind you, but important enough in that Jarre had to prove Oxygene wasn’t some fluke of creative serendipity. Given the nearly unprecedented global success of his debut in the world of synth music (no, we will not include Deserted Palace in this discussion, ever), fan and foe were eager to hear what he’d come out with next. Could he replicate that magical blend of modern classical artfulness while keeping an ear tuned with pop sensibilities? Might he go more abstract as a creative challenge? Or totally sell out with some disco pop, as was the happenin’ thing to do at the time? A little of each, turns out.

For sure Jarre has another long-player concept in mind for Equinoxe, this time of the dawn-to-dusk journey of Mankind. Right, that’s one Hell of a vague descriptor, though listening through this album, I can hear what Jean-Michel was shooting for. The first two tracks (Part 1 and Part 2) call upon his classical music knowledge, the first more a grand opening, the second a somber, mysterious reflective piece. Things get peppier in Part 3, building up to the centerpiece of the album in Part 4. It’s got a strident rhythm, sweeping synth strings, a hooky refrain, key changes, and lots of plinky sounds, burbling proto-acid…the usual assortment of Jarre treatments. Is it better than Oxygene? Does it matter? I think it’s cool, isn’t that enough?

Part 5 and Part 6 are even brisker than Part 4, though clearly treading into synth-pop’s territory. Part 7’s where it’s at though, tying everything together in a tidy, tasty sonic bow. Would have made for a perfect end to Equinoxe, but Jarre decides a little indulgence is in order, Part 8 running through some French pop silliness, then going full modern classical again for an outro. Ah, why not; I’ll allow it. ‘Tis fun.

The Future Sound Of London - Environment 6.5

fsoldigital.com: 2016

So Environment Six had its moments, but didn’t gel terribly well as an LP experience. And dammit, is it so unfair of me to want that? The Future Sound Of London made their mark in the ‘90s as one of the few electronic music producers who could successfully release fully-formed albums. We know it’s within Cobain and Dougans’ ability to do so, and though the Environments series has flitted with loose themes thus far, I can’t see an abandonment of it in favor of total freeform music making doing them many favors. With the simultaneous release of 6.5, also featuring a whopping twenty-three tracks, I worried we were in for another lengthy dive into the duo’s erratic muses.

Instead, we’re greeted with one of the biggest opening salvos FSOL have ever committed to record. Axis Of Rotation serves as a brief effects-heavy intro, a suggested orchestral melody emerging. It then melds into a thudding tribal rhythm in Solid Earth, where the same melody plays out in a haunting, subdued fashion. Wait, I should call that melody a leitmotif, because FSOL bring it back way down in track fifteen, The Day The Poles Shifted, and as a grand opus at that. Holy cow, does Environment 6.5 have an honest-to-God concept behind it?

I’d say so. For one, the tracks all flow much better together compared to Six, moments of calm and tranquility explored for stretches before easing along to tunes more brisk and experimental. If a number of these tracks started out as unrelated sonic sketches, FSOL tweaked and twisted them to fit whatever theme holds everything together. Even that, so often vague and obtuse in prior Environments, comes off more concrete than before. For sure explorations of ruined civilizations is well-tread territory where these guys are concerned, but with 6.5, I feel as though I’m directly involved in this musical trek rather than being an outside observer of events. This undoubtedly sounds awfully wanky, but the journey takes you through dark, underground passages, past dwellings both ancient yet futuristic, finally emerging into a new dawn as the surface finally recovers from its cataclysm (by force of nature than anything manmade, it seems).

Individual tracks, then. How do they all come off? Oh, the usual sort of FSOL eclecticism. Anacro Rhythm: far East psychedelia. Opal Light: noir ambient dub. Dark Seed: chipper braindance acid. I Dream In Viral Blue: widescreen jazz-fusion. Ain’t Gonna Lie: far flung ambient techno. Emmissions Of Light: dubby ambient glitch. Strange Allure: pure ambience with bubbling weirdness. There’s more, of course, but gotta’ save some surprises for y’all.

Why this wasn’t the Environment Six Prime album, I haven’t a clue. It’s so much better, Actual Six coming off like the b-side companion an album titled 6.5 should sound like. In fact, I’d rank this one on par with their ‘90s material, if for nothing else than that Axis Of Rotation leitmotif remains stuck in my head. Can’t say the same of most other Environment pieces.

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.