Nacht Plank - Echo Ark

...txt: 2014/2022

For as much as I've talked about his labels, his collaborations, and his influence upon modern ambient techno circles in general, I sure haven't covered much of Lee Norris' solo work. Indeed, of the twenty-seven items I have tagged with his name within this blog's archives, only four are of Lee on his own. And most of those tend to be Nacht Plank items, though that's not terribly surprising as it's the alias he's most often released under. Yeah, Metamatics and Norken may have given him more early momentum, but Nacht Plank seems to be where he feels most free in his musical journeys.

And that may also be why I haven't come back to it often. Alien was an interesting album with analogue '70s weirdness going for it, but boy do I need to be in a particular mood to enjoy it. Which is more than could be said for the raw experimentation I heard on Broad Tape Band. And as for Third Sacraments Council, well, it's certainly a solid slice of hour-long ambient drone, but again, only good for particular moods (chiefly, 'sweepy beddy-bye time'). All this is to say I needed something rather particular for me to indulge in a Nacht Plank release again.

And this Echo Ark album, that certainly looked to fit the bill. Just the cover art alone, EPCOT Center as viewed through some alternate lens, already sparks so many creative possibilities. The near-naive optimism of Disneyfied retro-futurism, twisted into some abstract tonal counterpoint, a lasting legacy of human hubris in the face of a society deformed from its former glory. I'm not saying Echo Ark is all that – indeed, maybe Lee presents this album with just as much Utopian idealism as Tomorrowland always envision. Given these colour tones though, I suspect not.

Opening Shepherd Satelite is a rather tranquil start though, the analogue bleeps and bloops kept mostly to a steadying heartbeat while synth pads gently slide and glide throughout- Oh, wait, things just took a tonal shift. Now we're in weirdly ominous territory, with additional transistor chatter. Did... did something happen? Has the grand plan fallen upon hard times? Well, whatever the case, following that is a near twenty-six minute long excursion of tranquil field recording manipulations, melancholy synths, and even a little pitter-patter of rhythm burbling to the surface now and then. Aminita, the piece is called, and if it don't conjure primordial vistas as seen through some viewscreen on the Prometheus (the one orbiting Solaris, I mean), I don't know what will.

The rest of Echo Ark (three tracks averaging a dozen minutes each) play out in similar fashion: field recordings, wistful synth pad melodies, light use of experimental sounds and effects. Overall a rather pleasant outing, especially considering the more foreboding tone the second half of Shapherd Satelite suggested. I guess even Lee couldn't get quite as cynical as some do whenever talking about the overtly celebratory nature of EPCOT's future vision for mankind.

Moss Covered Technology - Brick And Air

Audiobulb Records: 2022

I've gone on about all these other endless Bandcamp discography buys and box-set purchases, yet somehow have quietly almost completed another one just like that. Right, I didn't get the totality of Mr. Baird's material, only settling for a select few. Still, the handful I did wasn't a small amount, and now that I've nearly completed those, I find myself compelled to get more, just to complete the set. The fact he makes some captivating drone pieces doesn't hurt either.

Since it was the Neotantra album Sodium Light that first drew my attention to Moss Covered Technology, it's only fitting that I scope out its pseudo-sequel Brick And Air. I call it as such not just because it was the (year in the making) follow-up to the former record, but more that they cover similar themes, in this case the rather desolate isolation of urban night. This isn't really a concept Greig typically explores, more content casting his muse towards pastoral settings and foggy coast lands. And while I'm quite drawn to such settings myself (particularly the latter), I'm always fascinated by how some interpret wandering the cold concrete of back streets and dimly lit industrial sectors that make up our cities. Burial practically made it a whole genre, and fact of the matter is many artists find themselves residing in such locales. Some make music to escape, but others take it on, grimy alley gunk and steaming machinery steel warts and all.

In typical Moss Covered Technology fashion, Brick And Air came out on a totally different label from all his other works, this time Audiobulb Records. It's another one of those experimental prints that I barely knew existed, but has been in operation for two decades - is there really no end to such labels? A couple names I'm familiar with have appeared on Audiobulb (Darren McClure, Porya Hatami, Autistici) but most are utter blanks to my eyes. Artists like Otaru, Calika, Aria Rostami, Monty Adkins, :papercutz, Hans Van Eck, He Can Jog, A Dancing Begger, The Hole Punch Generation, The OO-Ray, and Craque.

As with most M.C.T. albums, each track is self-titled, though Brick And Air does come with an Intro and Outro as well. Anyhow, though I gave a Burial namedrop up there, this is most decidedly not in that lane of urban drone. Brick & Air I is almost modern classical, through fed through quite the haze of atonal hiss and analogue fuzz. II gets more glitchy with things, while distorted tones penetrate a gritty wall of static in III. Meanwhile, IV and VI feature more glitchy melodies, but V takes a turn towards the dark ambient side of things. I could totally hear this piece being featured in a God Body Disconnect album on Cryo Chamber, with additional field recordings of inner city existence among the distant harmonious pads. Hmm, now there's an intriguing label for Greig to appear on. Why not? He's appeared on Dronarivm, as has ProtoU. Drone ambient has all the connections, man!

N:L:E - Bioluminescent Forest

Liquid Frog Records: 2020

When I think of a 'bioluminescent forest', I think of the out-wordly foliage of those Avatar movies. Which, y'know, makes one-hundred percent sense, since the alien world of Pandora does feature all manner of indigenous fauna that glows in the dark. It's like James Cameron wandered the woods of an outdoor psy trance party and thought, “This, but naturally grown.” Come to think of it, ol' Jim's been fascinated by bioluminosity since at least The Abyss, a movie featuring an entire underwater realm of beings bespeckled in shimmering lights emitting from their metabolisms. I'm sure its his motivating factor in all those deep sea dives, hoping to stumble upon a true Atlantian civilization hidden within oceanic depths so far uncharted. Eh, we've done an adequate job surveying the abyssal plain thus far – ain't much down there after all.

Where was I? Oh yeah, Bioluminescent Forest. I bring all that Avatar business up because the Pandora forests are what I associate with such a title. Why, then, is the cover art of Natural Life Essence's album so drab and grey? I mean, it's a nice picture of a meadow at dawn, but hardly a forest, much less of a bioluminescent variety. Then again, there aren't any naturally occurring plants that glow in the dark as it is, so it would be a heavy ask for Juan Pablo providing cover art of such a thing. Plus, given the track names of this album, the cover art does make more sense. One doesn't think of shimmering lights when reading titles like Cold Thick Fog, Night, and Rainy Day. Methinks the theme may be a bit muddled here.

The first half at least sets out as it means to, The Autumn Ritual opening with some nice field recordings before settling into a nice, dubby jaunt of glittering synths and groovy rhythms. I wouldn't call this psy dub, but it does remind me some of Sync24's works, just without the added acid. Follow-up Tree Reunion slows things down, even invoking some Amazonian rain-forest vibes ...a vibe I just realized has been noticeably absent from Mr. Giacovino's work considering he resides in South America. True, Argentina ain't equatorial, but y'know what I mean.

Anyhow, as the album plays out, I can't help but feel we're mostly exploring similar ideas over various styles. The three-track run of Night, And, and Day lasts well over thirty-five minutes, and is practically the same musical piece, just progressively more minimalist and ambient. It's neat after a fashion, but rather feels out of place among all the other tracks, especially since the almost chipper reggae-dub of Cold Thick Fog precedes it. More than that though, many of the backing, whispery synth pads sound like they're in the same key, leading to the whole album sounding rather samey throughout. Still, hearing the gentle pitter-patter of percipitation in closer Rainy Day as gentle synths bip and bop about, how can I have negative thoughts about Bioluimiscent Forest? I simply cannot.

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'!

Autumn Of Communion - 2

Anodize/Fantasy Enhancing: 2013/2022

For the longest time, I regarded this AoC album as one of their hardest items to procure. Yes, even more than the Autumn Of Communion debut on Fax+. Their second album on Anodize though? Forget about it. Never mind the short-lived ambient techno label is cultish even on the 'cult ambient techno label' spectrum, existing a mere two years and thus rendering their CDs extremely rare. Nay, saddle on the fact Autumn Of Communion 2 was released in a tin box, upping the 'collector's item' factor, creating one pricey item on the resell market. Definitely one in need of a reissue for those desiring a hard copy version, is what I'm saying.

It took nearly a decade (ignore the AoC box-set for now), but we finally got that reissue on Fantasy Enhancing. The first four Autumn Of Communion albums, in fact, with more on the way? Eh, I don't know if 5 and 6 really need them, but I see Polydeuces got one too. Point being, nearly everything worth having gets reissued eventually, if you're patient enough. One doesn't really need to break the bank on out-of-print items if you're a regular consumer of musical products. But man, some of those old, vintage tins, sure look nice and unique on one's shelves...

Anyway, Autumn Of Communion 2 is a great album, possibly the best of the duo's first run of numbered LPs. Not that the first and 4 are slouches, but if I were to do one of my 'Sportsing Survey' rankings, 2 would definitely rank tops.

For one thing, it refines most of what was presented on the debut, creating a much stronger flow between tracks. The Intervals, for example, are more evenly spaced, and feel like proper pauses between centrepiece tracks rather than sonic doodles there for their own sake. And while some may find them hokey, I quite like the included vocal samples of science talk and sci-fi jargon – really lends itself to that classic Fax+ vibe that inspired Lee and Mick's desire to work together in this project.

Opener Interpreter Of The Signs really hits those vintage Pete Namlook notes, what with the soft, slightly dubby beatcraft and spacious, spacey synths. So Powerful In The Mass gets more ambient techno, but does last a tad long at seventeen minutes in length, while Communion Signal does the tranquil, bleepy ambient for about a dozen minutes.

Then 2 practically shifts tone into Goodbye PK, Mick and Lee's tribute to Mr. Kuhlmann's passing. If this piece doesn't tug at all the feels deep in your chest cavity, you just ain't human, man. It kinda' leaves the brisk ambient techno of Cosmic Board Fusion out of sorts as a a follow-up, but the gentle field recordings of closer Perpetua grounds things back to Earth. So yeah, something of an album of two halves with a creamy middle. When most AoC LPs tend to come off just as a collection of tracks though, it's definitely a stronger listening experience.

Natural Life Essence - Wave Bio Generator

CYAN: 2017

Hm, been a bit longer than I anticipated coming back to Natural Life Essence in one form or another. Maybe going through his entire Bandcamp discography won't be as repetitive as I initially thought. *glances tenatively at the rest of 'W'*.

When Juan Pablo was starting out nearly a decade ago, the bulk of his releases were through CYAN, a free netlabel out of Germany primarily run by Jaja and Marco Köller, which they released their own material through. It was successful enough to lure in a myriad of other artists though, including Natural Life Essence with the album Hidrogenesis. This particular album, Wave Bio Collector, captures about the middle of that run. Which probably also explains why Juan was still using his original alias, not adopting N:L:E until he went fully independent. Hopefully these introductory paragraphs for future Natural Life Essence reviews won't be as boring as this one.

So the music. Looking at track titles, I thought I was in for something super-heavy on the field recordings side. Frogs And Toads (Hipnotic Swamp Choir); Geckos Tangled Trip (On A Confused Turtle); Spiders Trip... While there are samples of forest and swampy critters scattered about, it isn't the album's primary focus. Heck, that 'Swamp Choir' features more chattering birds than croaking reptiles within its peaceful ambient drone. Follow-up Snails Caravan (Snails Down The Mountain Dragonfly's Point Of View) mostly carries on the tranquil ambience with some added buzzing dub treatments, a simple rhythm of tribal drums and... a regular drum kit in a hall? Well, whatever, they gradually emerge with some added melodic bits, then abruptly ends on a hard fade-out. I only point this out as being odd because no other track just... ends like that, most quite content with a gentler fade. Makes me wonder if this was some weird production or upload flub.

Anyhow, the rest of the album mostly carries on in a typical world beat slash ambient dub sort of way. Mosquitos Trip On Train (Green Train Mix) has a fun little groove about it, and includes the requisite last train to the deep forest samples. The aforementioned Geckos Tangled Trip gets even groovier into the reggae dub bounce, while Slugs Caravan (Caravan Is Approaching) opts for more of a meditative vibe. Spiders Trip, meanwhile, does the multi-part thing, the first sticking to pulsing Berlin-School ambience, the second bringing in funkier ambient techno rhythms. Think I rather prefer the beatless version. Finally, Climbing Leaf (Hipnotic Petalum) features more synth pads, tranquil samples, and gentle, echoing rhythms. Really selling the feeling of a wide-open nature, 'tis.

So the base elements are all solid enough, but if I must quibble (and I must, since the title of this blog implies I will), the rhythms do come across rather flat and plastic at times. Like, this album could have used another pass on the mixdown. It's far from a deal-breaker, but if you demand immaculate production, you may not get as much out of Wave Bio Collector .

God Body Disconnect - The Wanderer's Dream

Cryo Chamber: 2021

I was fairly active giving Cryo Chamber annual shine, but apparently it's been twenty months since I last talked them up! It's not for a lack of material attracting my interest, oh no. They simply drifted for a while, putting yet another Bandcamp bulk buy on the back burner. And further... and further... Or maybe getting properly physically active made listening to dark ambient music an unnecessarily depressing distraction? Nah, couldn't be.

Just as well, then, that Simon Heath has expanded the variety of cinematic drones available on his label. Explorations in urban reflections, noir, sci-fi that isn't straight-up cosmic horror... even some regular ol' meditative ambient. Okay, it's often of a more melancholic bent, not really the best backing music when aligning one's chakras or whatever. Compared to the outright oppressive drone that marked Cryo Chamber's early releases, however, we may as well be talking about Dreamloop sessions.

One of the label's earlier breakout acts, God Body Disconnect, actually wormed a few such gentle pieces within his albums. Indeed, Mr. Moallem's debut album, Dredge Portals, worked so effectively because of that contrast. I can't say I kept tabs on his material much after that though. Yeah, I eagerly snatched the pseudo-sequel Sleeper's Fate, but couldn't help but feel Bruce might hit a creative dead-end in doing the 'spoken word' gimmick over and over. I honestly haven't indulged in all of his material since to find out, but wanted to dive back in somewhere. Hence, me checking out this two year old album, The Wanderer's Dream.

First off, just look at that cover! Nothing about it strikes you as dark ambient, does it. Sure, some of the grainy, weathered aesthetic may suggest a grainy, weathered sound within, but for the most part, you could hang this on your wall with some regular naturalist artwork and have few side-glances in the process. It's a shockingly bright, almost sunny piece, the coming light of a new dawn. But this is Cryo Chamber, mang'! Ain't no way the ambient dronescape within can be as pleasingly light.

Well, maybe not, but it certainly is peaceful. A relatively short album at forty-seven minutes total, The Wanderer's Dream basically captures those melancholic moods one may feel when out for a stroll in the early hours of the day, particularly after being up all night lost in anxious thoughts. It isn't necessarily depressive, finding it soothing for depressive thoughts, a steady, calming tone with comforting harmonies easing one out of self-induced stress. Not to say there aren't moments of apprehension either, they just aren't the norm, and often nicely counter-balanced shortly after.

Another all-time classic from God Body Disconnect, then? Eh, I can't say as such. While the ambient on hand is quite nice, and definitely a departure from the Cryo Chamber norm, it is a relatively common sort, as heard from many other sources. A worthy addition to the label's canon, for sure, but probably all-too easily overlooked from ambient connoisseurs abroad.

faru - Utasava

Carpe Sonum Novum: 2018/2022

I'm really getting into some 'off the grid' music lately. What can I say? When a bit of cover art strikes my fancy, followed by sound samples that scintillate my stapes, I'm an easy sucker. This one I found particularly striking in that the sepia photo reminded me of Ultimae Records, yet the music within most decidedly did not. Nor did it sound like much of anything I've yet heard on Carpe Sonum. Neither label has ever gone quite so... world beaty.

Turns out that was something of a departure for Fabian Ruf as well, most of his musical compositions hanging out in the ambient drone category I've indulged plenty of over the years. Okay, he hasn't released a robust discography yet, his Bandcamp page only offering a handful of titles to his faru moniker, but one of those includes a Silent Season EP (Through Darkness Comes Light), so making significant inroads quite early on. From the looks of things, this Utasava is his first physical roll-out, Carpe Sonum Novum offering up a CD option for this album. And as mentioned, quite the turn away from the sort of Archives-styled ambient he was making to that point. Sometimes though, a vacation in a foreign land does wonders for one's inspiration. Having a recording microphone on hand capturing all those unique sounds doesn't hurt either.

And wander through a new realm he done did, opener Walk To Sri Pada almost entirely field recordings, folk and fauna busying themselves all around you, save a singular sitar tone and drumming guiding us along. The sounds of the street are so acute, I actually feel like those darn crows are dive bombing me! No, wait, that's those darn crows on my regular morning jaunts – the track is just giving me PTSD hearing their angry caws pan from right to left.

Regardless, the real highlight of this album is second track The Sacred Mountain, a near twenty-minute excursion into deep meditation as a temple monk sings through all manner of industrial distortion. I've seen this piece compared to Alio Die or Popol Vul, though as always my reference point remains Rapoon. It does eventually morph into more traditional ambient, but man, hearing those effects on this man's voice is some other-wordly vibes. It also kinda' makes the rest of Utasava come off rather tame and safe in comparison.

Not that there's anything wrong with tracks like Indian Ocean, Makar Sankrati and Along The Coast, it's just world beat and ambient dub paths well travelled since the days of Loop Guru. Meanwhile, the glitchy psy-dub of Mirissa and industrial techno of Summre Rain (!!) throw such a left turn on Utasava, you'll be forgiven for thinking you've somehow stumbled into an entirely different album. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the diversity. It's just bizarre going through such an intense meditative journey with The Sacred Journey, only to have gabber beats thumping some twenty-five minutes later. Well, unless you're Rapoon, I guess.

Various - tʌntrə x: Amrita

Neotantra: 2021

Oh my God! You know all those Bandcamp bulk buys I've done? Like, whole artist discographies, and such as? That's essentially buying a box-set! I've been covering multiple box-sets all this time without realizing it. And wouldn't you know it, as soon as I've wrapped up this tʌntrə box-set, I'll be kicking off another. No, not tʌntrə xx or tʌntrə xxx. Heck, the latter is already sold-out, and currently just one left of the former. Hold a sec'... *Jeopardy music plays* I mean, both are already sold out. I'm talking about that Natural Life Essence catalogue grab, containing some... well, a lot of releases. Not to mention that Suntrip Records haul as well. Hey, all those CDs came in a box, so it can count as a box(ed) set!

Anyhow, we've come to the end of this one, and boy, did it fly by fast. Can't believe we're already on CD5, but then it's not like the music within this collection insists upon itself. Much of it can float on by with barely any attention paid to it, which doesn't make it bad or anything. It's ambient music in its purest form, and if you can get more out of it than serving as the backing soundtrack to whatever activities you're engaged in, that's all the bonus. I've certainly come away from this with a couple more artists due for further exploration, but many others kind of just passed me on by. Sort of the issue I had with trying to dig into any of those Tʌntrə digital downloads in the first place, as I recall. Ah well, maybe the 'volume two' set will help sort things out further for yours truly, whenever I get around to that one.

The final set of tʌntrə x is subtitled Amrita. Hey, I know that word! It's the title of that Loop Guru album that changed my life! Okay, that's exaggerating some – more like affirmed my early 'big city bachelorhood' sense of self. Given that amrita is the Sanskrit word for immortality, it makes sense that I'd associate feelings of righteous invincibility listening to such music. Or something.

Honestly though, this Amrita set feels a bit aimless as it plays out. Oh, the music remains quite calm and soothing, as most of the music has throughout. I'm just not hearing the connective tissue between each track. We go from from pleasant ambient drone, to acoustic fuzz, to moody minimalism, to atonal abstraction, and so forth. It rather sounds as though Lee had some leftover pieces he felt needed inclusion, but didn't know where else to place them, so lumped them together here.

That includes one of those massive thirty-minute long tracks scattered about the Tʌntrə series to close us out, Leaf Calligraphy's Sonic Flames. To the sound of densely layered piano tone and a crackling fire, it's about as ambient as the genre can get. Wrap yourself in a snuggly blanket with some hot chocolate, as the lights fade out.

Various - tʌntrə x: Apurva

Neotantra: 2021

Given how much music is featured on all these tʌntrə compilations, I do wonder what the selection process entails. I've no doubt folks and friends of Lee Norris are more than happy to send in material, but I'm talking about all the other, less-known names. Can you send in any ol' demo, and Neotantra's head of marketing will just slot you in whenever another edition is ready for export? Do you have to have some material already out on streaming services to even be considered? Or a Discogs entry?

Like, I'd consider myself at least somewhat well-versed in the ambient scene – my scrobbling data assures me it's the most prominent genre of music I gorge myself on. And for sure, having listened to many releases out on this label and others of similar ilk, I've come to learn of several artists I'm more than willing to drop big Bandcamp bucks on. Yet even browsing through a random volume of tʌntrə - III, let's say – I'm confronted with names like E.U.E.R.P.I., Theadelaidean, James Shain, and Sebastian Paul, all fresh to my eyes. Might I enjoy their works to?

Probably, but who's got time to digest them when just a couple months later, we're already on tʌntrə VI, with names like Todd Gerber, Nihhus, Hirotaka Shirotsubaki, and Brómus now crowding in for my attention? Throw in Neotantra's mainline run of albums, not to mention whatever parent label Fantasy Enhancing gets up to, and it can all feel overwhelming in how much is getting released. Add one's desire to explore other corners of the ambient scene while you're at it, and y'all understand why I say it's better to just focus on a select few? Even just this one can potentially leave a regular connoisseur more than sated, which I assume is kinda' the aim Neotantra's been shooting for anyway. Your one-stop shop for whatever ambient needs you may be fixin' for, yo'.

ANYHOW, here's CD2 of tʌntrə x, titled Apurva. Google tells me it's another Sanskrit word, in reference to something unique or newly achieved. Wiki tells me it's an element of ritualistic acts within Vendanta philosophy. Given the nature of the music within, I'm kinda' leaning towards the latter definition as it pertains to the CD, as this is some seriously meditative ambient.

I recognize Encym, Memex, and Natural Life Essence on here, not to mention two-and-a-half 'Moss' projects (MO-DU is half a 'moss', don't deny it!). Names that are new to me include Daniel Vujanic, Tunnelwater, Å Asher-Yates, and D York. Some of it's droney, some of it's bleepy, some of it's heavy on the field recordings, some of it heavier on the acoustic fuzz, but all of it is remarkably tranquil. Like, one, long lethargic drift through a gentle brook, slipping in and out of conscious thought. I wish I had more to say about it as music, but again, going into heavy details track by track is totally missing the point of these CDs.

Bålsam - Soul Offerings

Neotantra: 2019

It cannot be denied: the ambient scene is filled with hippies. No, I'm not talking about anarchist crusty-punks you might see at 'free tekno' parties, though there is some bleed when it comes to the psy side of things. I'm referring to the more New Age sort, who are about yoga, granola diets, herbal remedies, and naturalistic life-styles. All the calm, meditative tones that comes with many forms of ambient music, it's a natural lure for those who fancy themselves living on the mystical side of counter-culture existence. I cannot deny also retaining some minor attributes of this, but nor do I delude myself into thinking I've unplugged from society at large – I'm very much a willing participant of the rat-race. How else can I afford to constantly buy music, after all?

This here Bålsam (Anthony Asher-Yates to the Minnesota census board) is one such person who has managed to get off-grid, so to speak. Inspired by his travels through South America, he decided it was best for his life to retreat to the mountains of Columbia where he could spend his days debugging his soul from the trials modern society had wrought upon him. There, he could indulge in all the healing activities denied him by Western culture – the spiritual ceremonies, the ritualistic music performances, the horticultural medications, and such as. Y'know, real hippie shit.

Okay, I tease – do what works for you, right? I guess I just find it funny how, for a label that's got 'tantra' right in its title and even features a running, free compilation series named as such, it's mostly cultivated the more arty side of ambient musicians. Bålsam is one of the few who could be considered a full-blown hippie among its roster, at least that I've come across.

And what sort of ambient music does Mr. Asher-Yates create? Little in the way of actual music, turns out, heavily reliant upon field recordings with accompanying harmonic tones. Makes sense, feeling inspired by his natural settings, wishing to share the feelings of being immersed within tropical rainforests. It's not all wind through palm leaves and birds of paradise singing Amazon songs though, an ample amount of urban recordings finding their way into his pieces as well. Or at least, it sounds like I'm wondering some city streets, what with heavy use of echo and reverb used in his sampling.

Come to think of it, Soul Offerings doesn't so much have me imagining wandering about dense tropical foliage, but rather within a gigantic biodome containing said environment. It's the way all the natural sounds seemingly echo, sounding like they're bouncing off enclosed concrete walls and glass ceilings. I assume this is a result of Anthony's manipulations of said field recordings, leaving things sounding less 'real' than their source. Was this his intent in crafting these pieces? Or just a happy accident? Whatever the case, Soul Offerings does bring a unique angle to an admittedly over-saturated genre of tropical ambient music.

Moss Covered Technology - Sodium Light

Neotantra: 2021

Oh no! Another lovely little ambient album out of Neotantra, from an artist with a charming three-word alias I know nothing about but am now compelled to explore their Bandcamp page. When will my financial suffering end! *sigh* Let's do this then... Oh, he doesn't have that massive a discography after all. Still, some highly tempting items there. Quiet Loops, Southern Points, Speicherbank, Seafields, And His Many Seas... I'm sensing a theme here, one I'm totally digging. *deep sigh* *comical unzipping sound of digital wallet*

Moss Covered Technology is a relatively new artist, one Greig Baird, releasing the odd item every so often on a variety of labels (Dronarivm, hibernate, Polar Seas Recordings, Eilean Rec., Fluid Audio (2)). He had an earlier, minor run as Boomruin, fusing ambient and drone tones with downtempo beats, eventually making the transition over to more traditional beatless music and field recording manipulations. Seems that was Mr. Barid's true calling, as he's maintained that style ever since.

A running theme among many of Greig's albums under this moniker is using the same title for each track, though not necessarily the name of the album itself. The biggest diversion from this is found here on Sodium Light, each track rather titled Night. If you're wondering why, what do you think powers all those big spotlights in wide-open urban spaces like industrial parks and vehicle lots? There's other uses for them as well, but for the most part, when folks think of twilight hours in darkened city locales, the omnipresent soft glow from overhanging poles tends to spring to mind. Especially is you're the lonesome sort to wander about when contemplating post-clubbing existence and such. Ooh, I suspect there may be a bit of an ambient-Burial vibe going into this one.

Well, not quite. Night #1 is mostly languid synth tones supported by fuzzy analogue throbs, and over in a rather brief three minutes. Night #2 carries on the gentle ambience of soft, harmonic pads blanketed within the warm embrace of faint static. It certainly imparts the feeling of a metropolitan square utterly still, perhaps a stray insect hovering about a street lamp the only movement.

Even when Greig gets a little more 'aggro' and unsettling in his use of background hiss, there's always an accompanying serenity in what melodic tones pierce the murk. Unfortunately, we don't get to dwell on such ideas for long, Sodium Light only six tracks, lasting a mere thirty-five minutes total. I suppose it's effective in getting his musical ideas across without feeling the need to dawdle about, but man, what we do get is such a tease of something larger in scope. Can you blame me for wanting to raid his Bandcamp page for more items?

No, you cannot, which is what makes music exploration and discovery so much fun. Expensive, but fun! Hmm, speaking of, I noticed another intriguing print in my label name-drop above. What does this Polar Seas Recordings offer? Oh... oh no! *sigh* Here we go again... *unz-z-z-i-i-i-ip*...

Natural Life Essence - Organic Adventures

Neotantra: 2020

Ah, finally, an ambient artist debuting on Neotantra that isn't hopelessly obscure. Well, okay, Natural Life Essence probably is hopelessly obscure to a lot of folks out there, maybe even among ambient fans, but unlike some of the others I've covered from this label, he has a rather robust discography under his belt. One Juan Pablo Giacovino, the Argentinian local has been releasing music for close to a decade now, initially getting his start on German based CYAN, sharing digital domain with the likes of New Age Hippies, Musik Magier, The Mixing Chef, Fortadelis, Jaja (3), and Smooth (8). Perhaps more noteworthy is a short stint with psy label Ovnimoon Records, a lone EP and remix album to his name there.

That's just what Lord Discogs tells me he's done though. Follow a link to his Bandcamp page, however, and holy cow! Chap's been a busy lad, to say the least. To be fair, his Liquid Frog Records print isn't just all him, sharing projects with names like Kiphi, Yahgan, and Spiritual Fields. Still, there's a lot to check out there, all of it looking mighty tempting for a splurge. Space ambient, polar ambient, naturalistic ambient, meditative ambient, abstract ambient, long form ambient... just, so much ambient. What would I even begin to choose from this selection? What, buy the whole catalogue? Don't be daft, the whole thing is eighty-six items! It'd be ludicrous of me to just blind-buy that large of a Bandcamp page and I've already gone and done it, haven't I? *sigh* Well, I guess I needed something to keep generating content for this blog next year.

Anyhow, back to Juan's debut on Neotantra, Organic Adventures. Far as I can tell, three of the self-titled tracks come from an earlier release of N:L:E's, Organic Adventures (Those Other Lands). Which isn't all that uncommon when it comes to Neotantra releases, often serving as much a re-issue print for releases long forgotten or ultra-obscure. 1, 3 and 4 (Part II) are all quite lovely in that slightly psy-chill sort of way, never getting over-indulgent with effects and gimmickry, keeping things just melodic enough to hook you in while tones and drones drift along. Organic Adventures 8, which far as I can tell is an original for this release, is a slightly different outing, gentle washes of white noise dub effects and spoken dialog lending more of a spaced-out vibe.

And speaking of fresh music for a label debut, the first two tracks also appear new, and honestly kinda' clash with the original Organic Adventures sessions. Opener Polinizaton runs a lengthy twenty-one minutes, and is more of a shoegazey dronescape with field recordings of chirping birds. It's quite nice too, very relaxing, kinda' reminiscent of a Slaapwel Records session, and- oh, God! Why did those gentle pads suddenly cut out like that? Talk about sonic whiplash. Liberation (Flying Free) follows in similar fashion, though more emphasis on building upon an uplifting synth pad melody. No sudden cut-off? Now that's an Ace Track!

Warmth - Life

Archives: 2020

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

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

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

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

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

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

Martin Allin - Impact Release

Neotantra: 2021

Now here's an odd one. Yes, I claim that about a lot of releases – when one has covered upward of around two-thousand items, odds are favourable that a few of them will be 'odd'. Claiming a Neotantra release as being odd is a stretch though. Their ambient manifesto is quite clear and concise, with packaging simple and clear. Seldom does the music within indulge conflicting tonal contrasts or extreme experimentation – by this point, you pretty much know what you're gonna' get out of one of their CDs. And yet, Martin Allin's Impact Release is odd because of its CD, or at least its packaging. For some reason, it's different from its digital counterpart, an almost black navy blue, whereas the latter is much brighter. Even the image preview on Bandcamp features a digipak much closer to the digital colours than what I have in my hand.

Did something go wonky at the printing press, certain colours running out on the assembly line? Are there perhaps a select few 'alternate' versions of this CD floating about now, which will command insanely inflated collector's market prices for a copy? Yeah, yeah, it's silly hyper-focusing on such a thing, but when a label makes colour gradients its distinct and only feature in the artwork, minor incongruities tend to leap out at you. At least Neotantra has evolved to include unique photography for its cover art in recent months.

Anyhow, Martin Allin. There isn't much information on him out there in internetland, so I assume he's a relative newcomer to the ambient-osphere. His Discogs page is basically blank, this album and a couple Neotantra compilation contributions the extent of his discographical data. His Soundcloud page does offer a few more items, but far as I can tell, Mr. Allin hit the road running, getting signed to the label shortly after going public with his musical works.

And what brand of ambient do we have ourselves with Impact Release? Mostly minimalist, lowercase forms, with echoing field recordings, soft pad drones, analogue fuzz and generally unassuming, background sonic padding. It's all rather like Andrew Heath (to namedrop another lowercase composer I've covered), though remixed into the deepest meditation vibes you can imagine. Some pieces, like Homeostasis Friend Weather, Your Father And Nature, and Frustrating, are almost nothing more than ethereal wisps of sound, occasional thrums of synth tone and echo drops the only reminder of a CD still playing. Yet even when there's barely any music at all, Martin Allin somehow sucks you in just the same.

The last couple tracks - I Am Grateful To Her For That Lesson and Merry The Mountain - add actual rhythms. Though they're little more than basic dub techno beats, compared to the utter ambience in the rest of the album, these might as well be storming tech-trance beasts. They honestly almost cause me mental whiplash, being so completely zoned out on the near sonic-nothingness leading up to them. Impact Release indeed.

Daar - Entire

Silent Season: 2021

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

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

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

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

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

AstroPilot - Earthwalk

AstroPilot Music: 2021

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

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

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

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

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

Motionfield - Cryonics

Neotantra: 2021

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

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

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

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

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

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

Various - Coercion Of Deities

Neotantra: 2021

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

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

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

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

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

Private Mountain - Blue Mountain

Neotantra: 2019

Fun thing about following labels will always be discovering new artists. True, I get these Neotantra albums because my OCD compels me to grab the gradient cover art, lest my CD collection look incomplete, but the music's usually pretty darn good too. And while many familiar names have released here, several more are complete blanks to me, my purchasing decision little more than having a good hunch over some audio clips. So it went with Private Mountain, a name I'd never seen before, but ooh, that's some nice, soothing, minimalist ambience coupled with field recordings. Sure, I'll give it a go.

Then I look into the names behind the moniker, ones Dimitar Dodovski and Toni Dimitrov. I'd love to claim I recognized them straight-off, but no way I could have, even if I have encountered Dimitar before. In fact, the project he was on was quite instrumental in opening the doors to where my ambient techno interests currently lie. It was a pairing with a chap by the name of Lee Norris, under the pseudonym Moss Garden.

Yeah, that Moss Garden. You'll forgive me for not immediately remembering that factoid, for Mr. Dodovski's career was still in a relatively embryonic stage back then. He's put out much music since though, including a team-up with Toni and Martin Geogrievski as Post Global Trio. They've put out some half-dozen albums now, but on the side Dimitar and Toni started another project as Private Mountain, this here Blue Mountain the debut.

Taking in some Post Global Trio works for a frame of reference, I can confidently claim that Private Mountain sounds quite similar, just lacking any rhythmic momentum. The abstract ambience, the immersive field recordings, the hazy feelings of memories past, wandering back road regions in solitude. Like, a hillside path, all to yourself. I just find it amusing that two-thirds of a mostly ambient project took it upon themselves to make extra-ambient music.

Opener Ainmount 1 mostly maintains a fuzzy, day-glo vibe, while Ainmount 2 opts for more night-time tranquility, a surprising contrast so early in the album. Usually you wait for the end to go twilight. The titular third cut really gets my Andrew Heath triggers going, early dronescapes gradually melting into sounds of idling about cottage dwellings. Just A Strange World gets a little fancier with the drone effects, while the eponymous track (longest at over twelve minutes) gives more of a Boards Of Canada interlude vibe. If BoC ever included sounds of running water while exploring deep caverns, sounds echoing across damp stone walls, that is. A tidy, tranquil closer in Coming Back Home wraps things up, and if you don't feel utterly blissed out after listening to Blue Mountain, I really don't know what else to say.

I suppose the only quibble I can offer is this album's rather short. Six tracks, only half of which break six minutes, doesn't feel long enough wandering this mountain. Pretty sure I said the same of Moss Garden too, heh.