VARIOUS ARTISTS

Bibimbap

Foundry (2004)

JONATHAN HUGHES AND OTHERS

Fluidities

Foundry (2004)

Two new releases by the intriguing Foundry label have crossed my desk over the last few, warm, months. Both share fascinating concepts; one of which challenges the essential way we listen to music in the first place. Foundry projects are always intellectually rigorous and adventurous, compared to much ambient and electronic fare, while still maintaining a sense of fun and exploration.

First up is a compilation, the first I've reviewed in a while. Ambient music used to thrive on such compilations, but, sadly, they are far less frequent these days--it remains the best way to be introduced to new artists while also showcasing intriguing album concepts and themes. Foundry's Bibimbap is based around the idea of the Korean dish created from a variety of ingredients. The overarching concept of the album, then, is a mixture of disparate and unused tracks by different artists that total to a satisfying meal.

The first track is by newcomer Ben Swire, whose Equilibrium ep was reviewed here [on Brian's site -ed.] last year. "Amalgam" occupies the same chilled IDM territory as that EP, but feels stronger over five minutes than that release did in fifteen. Melancholy synth pads and a clicky beat lead to a dramatic tympani-like kickdrum. A symphonic techno mood is created, which culminates in a belltone march. Vocal samples and more luscious pads round out "Amalgam" nicely. This track represents the Bibimbap concept well, as many disparate elements are mixed to create a track that is more than the sum of its parts.

Next is Ambient Review favorite Saul Stokes, whose "Cyclops Afternoon" feels like an outtake from the Fields</a> sessions, mixed with some of the more chilled moods of Outfolding. Stokes's compilation tracks seem to have the same tones, and this is quite similar to the track on Databloem's Collection 2: Moving, with lovely and strange synth soloing and a mid-tempo urban groove (though urban by way of Trantor). Nice work, if not as memorable as Stokes's recent album material, especially the excellent new tracks on Radiate.

Forrest Fang contributes "Filling the Bowl," a mixture of somewhat chaotic (though always pretty) ambience and gamelan, much like the material on 2000's excellent Gongland. It's been too long since that album, and this track causes me to hope another Fang full length won't be far behind. "Filling the Bowl" is relatively short, but the burbling ambience combined with Fang's synths melds quite neatly in the time span--a perfect amount of every ingredient makes for one of the best tracks on the disc.

Next is Foundry label owner M. Bentley under his eM guise with the marvelously titled "The Twilight Pageant of the Bibimbots." The pageant begins with reverberant post-industrial sounds that strained my speakers. Gradually, a mechanical dirge that recalls Maria's strange dance in Lang's Metropolis exposes itself. It's a great track with an ethnic and haunting feel, with imagery of humanistic, though clearly artifical, forms dancing like mannequins in the twilight. A highlight.

The second half of Bibimbap is populated by artists I'm unfamiliar with. It's also the point on the disc where things really start to get adventurous. Earwicker's "Entree" recalls both Popol Vuh's "Ich mache einen Spiegel" and more abstract ambient-techno from the late-nineties. It's a great track with a lot of strange sonics, both samples and tones, lancing across the speakers, all propelled by a downtempo beat that actually reminded me a little of Skinny Puppy, believe it or not.

Chris de Giere's "Kimchi Tastes of Summer" is populated by uneasy blips and bleeps underpinned by subtle synth ambience. The track doesn't quite gel for me, even though the underlying synth is quite lush and gorgeous. Interestingly glitchy crackles intercede here and there, aligning this track with newer laptop composers, but, for the most part, this track is fairly forgettable.

Thermal, former M-1 Alternative (remember them?) and AToI member, gives us "Muse of Exploration," a track that represents the perfect mixture of dreampop and ambient electronics, similar to music by Kiln and other artists who tread the line between indierock and ambient. I must admit I missed the heyday of C'est la Morte records, but it's good to know the artists are still out there, embracing new styles and staying relevant. The guitar work on "Muse of Exploration" is not to be missed by fans of Darla records' small electronic stable, and this track ranks as my favorite on the compilation.

Finally, Dean Santomieri closes the compilation with the short, poignant, and poetic "Their hearts burst the bars, but their necks broke against the glass," a brief exploration in cut-up scissory electronics. It's a little like Nurse with Wound, but short enough that it maintains novelty without wearing on the listener. Cool stuff, though obtuse, and a mysterious and fun way to end the compilation.Bibimbap is a needed throwback to the days when compilations meant something, and were a method of exploration into artists one was unfamiliar with. I suppose, to some extent, the internet, with its readily available MP3 and RealAudio sound samples, has negated the importance of compilations, making all new music available to anyone with a connection. Discs like Bibimbap remind me, though, that the genre still needs diverse outlets or expression, just as a meal needs a number of ingredients to be truly satisfying. While the artists I was familiar with on Bibimbap contribute tracks less strong than their recent albums, the compilation as a total is an effective, though perhaps not essential, showcase for newer talents who might otherwise escape notice. I, for one, hope to see other labels follow Foundry's lead in bringing back the compilation, and sustaining the genre in the process.

Next up is Jonathan Hughes's remarkable follow-up to his album Trillium (both released on Foundry). Fluidities, a two CD set, is of note on a number of levels. First, it contains eleven new Hughes tracks. Second, it contains eleven tracks by some very notable names in modern ambient/electronic music: Ian Boddy, Tetsu Inoue, High Skies (formerly Em:t artist Gas), AToI, Saul Stokes, and others. Third, the two discs are meant to be played simultaneously. Yes, one can create 121 different six-minute "fantasy" collaborations by the artists on disc one and the artists on disc two, if a person has two CD players available to them in the same room. And if you rip all of the tracks to MP3 (or have two copies of the set), you can have even more combinations of songs ... perfect for those who'd like to see Tetsu Inoue and Ian Boddy pretending to create their own version of 2350 Broadway in 2004. This fun concept was an impossibility for me, technologically anyhow, so I'll review the separate tracks on Fluidities based on their own merit. It's a sprawling set, so I'll simply focus on highlights to prevent the review from taking over my entire webspace.

Disc one:

Jonathan Hughes's "Snowdrift" is an absolutely lovely piano driven piece with Budd melodies mixing with simple sonic manipulations to form an update of the crystalline environments of The Plateaux of Mirror. Saul Stokes's "Summer" is an uncharacteristically environmental track, similar, for me, to his Edge of the Forest. It also, despite the title, fits very nicely with the icy atmospheres of the previous Hughes track. It's obvious Stokes pays a lot of attention to creating his music, as I've yet to hear a weak track by him, whether on a compilation or full-length. Hughes's "Photogenic" is an underwater, reverberant track, reminding me a little of the trippy, sparse excursions by Silent Records artist Pelican Daughters. Gorgeous and minimal. Next is "Memory II" by Jussi and Jaana Väisänen, and is also one of my favorite songs on the album. It's Stars of the Lid conjoined with haunting vocal samples in not-English and strange unknowable clunks and noises, like a field recording of the spectral plane. Haunting and perfect. I found Susanne Brokesch's track, "Hostile Phone" to sound somewhat dated at first. Worth mentioning is its transformation into something that sounds like no less than Cluster's deep space oddities. Jonathan Hughes collaborates with Naryan Padmanabha on the unusual "Feel the Photons" with sparse, bright ambience, bizarre random noises, and a guitar line combining into a futuristic mantra-jam session. In a way, this sounds like what Bark Psychosis's new album would have been if it were focused more on the electronic spectrum. Great stuff. AToI contributes the watery "Dr. John Lilly's Precise Instructions (instrumental)" which bubbles along like Michael Mantra's psychoactive material. Dean Santomieri's "Seahorse Pajama Haiku" is nothing like his Bibimbap track; this time it's all lovely synth tones and more underwater ambience. A pretty, diverse track and completely a surprise after the cutup I'd previously experienced. Finally, Hughes's "Ophelia, the Daycleaner" closes disc one with a high-pitched and organ-flavored reverence. It's a holy sound, a music of the spheres.

Disc two:

The second disc begins with ambient legend Tetsu Inoue. I have to admit that Inoue lost me after World Receiver; I haven't felt brave enough to explore his microsound journeys, deeming them a little too inaccessible for my tastes. "Soft Dome" may just prove me wrong, however. The experimental and chaotic textures are here, but they combine to form a relaxing river of microsound, quite easy to get caught up in. M. Bentley's "April" is an extremely minimal piano piece, lovely, stark, and one that I imagine mixes well with many of the other tracks on the set. Echoes of modern classical by Bentley diversify Fluidities, enriching the total in the process. "Two Thirteen" by Hughes and David Mussen reminds me a little of Robert Rich's work, specifically the times Rich appears to create the sounds of an alien environment: glurp and the strange resonances emanating from unseen lifeforms. Hughes's "Reda" has a Biosphere flavor, more fragile icy environments and high-pitched radio transmissions from beyond. High Skies contributes exemplary work of contrasting textures that wisp in the air like different perfumes on "The Shipping Forecast." The collaboration between M. Bentley and Hughes yields "Atlantic," their version of the sinking of the Titanic, just as it hits bottom, perhaps. This may very well be my favorite track on disc two. UK master-synthesist Ian Boddy's "Suburbia" sure doesn't sound like what's going on outside my window. This is birdsong out of the final scenes of David Lynch's Blue Velvet, suburbia altered, though recognizable, but somehow off. Totally unlike much of the Boddy material I've heard, and simply breathtaking. The final Hughes track "Luminaria" is subterranean, the gurgle of hot forces beneath the earth's crust. Interstitial closes the entire set with "Indelible Ink" a typically strange, dark work of bassy harmonics that conjures claustrophobic imagery--enough to darken even the lightest tracks on the set, I'd imagine.

Fluidities has a conceptual quality that's hard to beat, and the inclusion of so many excellent artists further sweetens the deal. Each track, most conjuring the liquid qualities of the title, is with merit. Of course, I enjoyed the Hughes tracks the most, and even created a burned disc that featured them alone, so I could enjoy a makeshift new album. I can't comment on how the individual tracks might sound when combined with each other as directed in the liner notes, but the tracks are minimal and fluid enough to accommodate many combinations. Hughes proves with Fluidities that he is a forward thinking artist capable of producing interesting concepts and musical directions that should satisfy even the most hardened ambient fans. The tracks are always adventurous, without sacrificing listenability, and stand up to repeated stand-alone plays. In essence, Fluidities is an intriguing concept that does not require participation on the part of the listener for maximum enjoyment. It's one of the Foundry's most interesting releases and is highly recommended--it's a fascinating and diverse work that only increases my appetite for more of Jonathan Hughes's forward-thinking music.

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IGNEOUS FLAME

Oxana

Chillfactor 10 (2004)

 

OFF THE SKY

Cold Distances

Databloem/DataObscura (2004)

To risk sounding like an embittered listener, because I certainly am not, 2004 has been a rather lackluster year for pure space-music and floating ambience. While the usual suspects have all submitted very fine ambient efforts (some releasing a few in just 2004!), many of these works have been in tribal or experimental modes, ignoring the drifting backgrounds and sonic landscapes that comprise the backbone of the ambient genre. I sit at my desk in mid-September listening and wondering, briefly, if space music and drifting ambience is played out, a victim of too many artists and too many releases, all with similar themes threatening to drown the others out.

I've begun this review with something of a downer, I know, but it serves my purpose to introduce the two albums of my review; two albums that are unrelated by artist and label, but share similar moods and intents. They also represent the converse of the above, perhaps imagined, 2004 trend--two excellent releases by new artists, each minimal and drifting, each memorable and representative in its own way. Perhaps 2004 hasn't been so bad for space music after all?

I'll begin with Oxana by UK newcomer Pete Kelly, aka Igneous Flame, whose previous album Tolmon I received when I started reviewing ambient here. That album was a near miss for me; professionally created, with all the hallmarks of great ambient, but lacking the cohesiveness and sheen to make it a truly memorable and original release. Any misgivings I might have had for this previous effort are blown away by Oxana, a completely fascinating, slowly shifting, collection of deep, though not dark, ambient tracks.

Kelly's ambience appears to be largely synth-created--apart from what might be processed guitar, I could detect no natural instruments, or at least none that haven't been heavily treated or tampered with in some way. Oxana begins with the aptly-titled "Formless", something of a harbinger for the deep tones to come. Sonorous, gusty sonics evoke deep space vacuum, similar to the more minimalist tracks by Zero Ohms. "Glacia-Tor" sounds like an ice planet whirling gently around a distant sun, its revolving tones soothing and bassy. "Novar" manages to recall for me the bright ambience of both early VidnaObmana, Wolfgang Voigt's Gas project, and the interstellar strums of Jeff Pearce. "Isolder" continues this musical reminder, though this time the sounds are vaguely glitched-out and extended toward the horizon line. "Geiss" reminds me of Vir Unis's very fine ambient works, before he soared off into numerous beat-driven albums. "Prismatic" continues the similarities to both Jeff Pearce and Vir Unis, as though the two musicians combined in an imaginary collaboration. "Vapour Trace" darkens the mood considerably, recalling the deep space territories plumbed by Oöphoi and Tau Ceti, or Life Garden's creepy mysticism. This is one of Oxana's most powerful tracks; subterranean sounds, lovely synth backgrounds, an air of interstellar mystery. Very fine stuff. You can't get more descriptive than "Space," a softly ululating track that manages to portray claustrophobic dark space and vast, open solar vistas simultaneously. "Dark Material" sonically describes the cover art of Oxana--marvelous black space, punctuated by slashes of deep red lightbeams or gas trails. The final track, "Lost at Sea," is a foreboding drone-based composition, reminding me heavily of Rapoon's darker material, complete with long wave shipping forecast samples--always an alien, though strangely comforting, sonic source.

Kelly's Oxana is a very fine work, though not without flaws. Many of the tracks sound similar--while creating an album length mood, they do tend to blend over sixty-six minutes (and also make each track rather difficult to describe on its own terms). The sound of the album, production-wise, is murky, often limiting the range and effect of headphone listening. These points do not, however, prevent me from recommending this album highly, especially for those ambient listeners enamored by the Hypnos label, specifically Jeff Pearce's lovely, vast, guitar-created atmospheres or the seemingly limitless drift of Vir Unis's older albums on the Green House Music label. Oxana is a perfect disc for late-night stargazing into the heavens, or the sweet time as one drifts gently into a night's slumber. Indeed, Kelly's created a fine example of "night music" where the sounds of the record and your own imagination are the only light sources. Recommended.

The second album bucking the 2004 trend is also a debut on the already-impressive Databloem CD-R sublabel DataObscura. Jason Corder, recording as Off the Sky, submits Cold Distances, which I'll introduce by saying that it is one of the finest debuts I've ever had the pleasure to hear, and that it will be ranking high on my top ten list for 2004 (if not the top spot), and is perhaps one of the most impressive ambient debuts of the 2000s. If you are a fan of Biosphere's glacial driftworks, the strangely emotional computer-songs of Tim Hecker, or even Thomas Köner's inhospitably cold environments, Off the Sky's remarkable debut is a must-have.

Cold Distances appears to have been created solely on soft-synths. These synths sound largely alien, though still environmental, as though these imaginary instruments are the only true way to represent the feelings and textures of the overarching mood; a mood of, well, cold distances. Whether these distances are the arctic tundra or the infinities of deep space (the track titles seem to suggest the former), it's difficult not to be swept away by the evocative sounds and textures presented by Corder over nearly sixty-five minutes. "A Thousand Year Formation" combines crackling vinyl LP/fireplace noises with gusting winds, arctic and solar; bassy drones; and Biosphere-esque organic synth tones and inexplicable samples. It is at once soothing and mysterious, as though the listener is immediately clued into a microworld of sound that was previously undetectable. "Morning Thaw" is representative of the glitched-out, blissed-out sonics of Christopher Willits; chittering synths disintegrate into nothingness, an intriguing fifty seconds. "Beneath the Ice Shelf" is minimal and haunting--similar in feel to Tim Hecker's "Music for Tundra," while not as sonically overpowering. "Light Peaks" returns to the glitch-basis of track two, its constantly shifting tones chopped up in under forty seconds. "Polar Drift" is sure to satisfy Thomas Köner junkies, a strange beat underpinning--like a softly intoning buoy or the ticking of clocks--the cold synth ambience. Electronic crackle, like white noise, snowblinds us, and we attempt to press on through blizzard conditions, growing more and more sleepy, until the effortless drift threatens to pull us away forever. "Cold Distances to a Warm Place" is unquestionably my favorite track, carrying forth the tick-tock from its predecessor and shifting it into a heartbeat. This heartbeat brings us inside ourselves, and when the absolutely blissful synth sweeps glide down, it's chills-time of the highest order. Do you remember that Ray Bradbury story where the spacemen are blasted out of their rocket, to glide forever alone in space? Here's your soundtrack. I could listen to this for hours--perfect melancholy. "Winter's Torpid Flow" crackles cheerily, maintaining the heartbeat from the previous track. Down deep under the ice, something is melting briefly, shifting slowly, creating gorgeous ice formations that may never be viewed by human eyes. Ten more minutes of softly-propulsive sonic bliss, punctuated by fascinating machine noises generated by dreaming computers. "Maker's Folly" synth-tones toll for thee--hissing synths and gonging into infinity, up and out, or perhaps down and under, if the undersea feel of later in the track is any indication. Finally, "Solid Surface, Soft Center" closes the work with a reverent feel; soft, organic tones, mechanical chitters, tampered-with synth meandering. A gentle end to an understated, though terrifically powerful, work.

Cold Distances is a perfect album. It's modern, soothing, experimental, emotional, and captivating. It's the kind of album that reveals more detail with each listen, is more satisfying with every play, will reward you no matter what mood you might be in. I won't mince words: this album is pure magic, don't miss it. My highest recommendation.

VARIOUS ARTISTS

Em:t 0004

Em:t Records (2004)

The legendary Em:t Records label, resurrected last year, proves, by releasing a 2004 compilation of all new material, that Em:t 0003 was no nostalgic fluke. When I reviewed Em:t 0003 last year, I found it to be uneven, and felt that "many of the artists on the compilation never rise above past Em:t glories." I wondered if the newest installment would be different. Once again it's a hodgepodge of names from classic Em:t artists to newcomers, so no hints there. The interior quote of Em:t 0004 states, "Forget about good. Good is boring. Good is where you've been before. You'll never reach anywhere if you're always chasing after what's perceived to be good." Perhaps I'm going to get in trouble for wondering, track by track, if Em:t 0004 is any good?

• We open with "Is It?" by Pueblo Bonito, the title a challenge similar to the liner notes' opening salvo. Orgone energy lances across the speakers playfully, with a skittery percussive element and a creepy, reverberant synth line. It's difficult to classify this as IDM, though it certainly shares characteristics with Ben Swire's work on the Foundry label. It's an insistent and claustrophobic track, though perhaps a bit repetitive over five minutes.
• "Is It?" segues nicely into "Freezebee" by Red Leb, a chittering, buzzing ambient track that marries Biosphere circa Substrata and the technologically derived natural soundscapes of Robert Henke. Midway through the track we're treated to a martial ambient-techno groove. This track gels nicely--just as you're getting comfortable it's over.
• Next is Orb alumnus Andy Hughes with "Antillia." Fans of the pop sound of Cologne's Kompakt records (for example, recent offerings by Triola and Thomas Fehlmann) or Mouse on Mars will enjoy this greatly. "Antillia" is a slightly more atmospheric example of these fine artists' material, and at just about five minutes it's the right length for a pop song.
• High Skies contributes compilation highlight "Burning Buildings." I don't understand why it seems to be an insult for critics to compare an artist to Boards of Canada. Regardless, I feel the comparison is fair here. While not wholly derivative of their sound, "Burning Buildings" does a very fine job captivating with a similar mood--hip hop beats and strange, dreamy atmospherics combine intoxicatingly. The silenced break in the middle of the track is just masterful. This is ten minutes of downtempo bliss, and I, for one, hope to hear more in this vein from High Skies. BoC and Arovane fans take note.
• Sub brings us the appropriately titled "Nautilus," a track swelling with the atmosphere of crashing waves and manipulated plucking of guitar strings (at least that's what it sounds like). Submarine noises blip faintly, and we are swept into a watery world where we may either be shelled organism or hulled transport. Later, jazzy percussives underpin the oceanic swells nicely. Good stuff, if a little traditional and "safe" sounding.
• Em:t mainstays Beatsystem return with "Sud," the longest and most atmospheric track on the compilation. As with much of their work, samples and recordings of everyday activity are transmuted into macroscopic soundscapes that are sometimes chilling and creepy, other times heavenly and meditational. This particular track reminds me a bit of Pete Namlook's work with Charles Uzzel-Edwards on the Create discs--sonic interpretations of geographical locations. Beatsystem's southward view here skews toward impenetrable clouds of sound that often take an oceanic flavor (moreso than its predecessor on the compilation!) The track feels a little long, and I felt my attention waning after a time.
• Next is International Peoples Gang's "AC Harmonics," which reminded me a little of Ulrich Schnauss's sunny atmospheres if he decided to go full-on ambient. Happy samples, a bouncy beat, and synth combine to form a Spring-scented electronic treat.
• Fognode's "Thin Faces" is next, a darker approach than the preceding tracks. Haunting synth pads and a stuttery beat for the darkened dancefloor create a tentative environment--are we supposed to dance or dream here? Obviously answers aren't provided, though I'll admit I found the beats enslaving after a time, and was relieved to see the track completely shift to jazz-dreamtime at the halfway mark. The atmospheric sonics were impressive (reminding me of Robert Rich with a techno-percussive slant) but I found the track, as a whole, to be unfocused with too many stylistic shifts within ten minutes.
• Farfield's "Lure of Time" is a synth-derived ambient-jazz composition with deep bass, lovely piano, and a Bark Psychosis feel. This is in the spirit of the original Em:t series, which featured tracks like this sandwiched between Woob or Thomas Köner--always a pleasant, weird, and occasionally frustrating juxtaposition. It works nicely here too.
• Finally, we have Gel-sol's "Jiva," which ought to please even the most hardened fans of the City Centre Offices or Morr Music labels. Bright synth, a fluid beat, and cool samples reference the classic ambient-techno of the early nineties, but with a modern and relevant shine that's truly impressive. Gel-sol's debut is due out from Em:t soon--if this track is any indication, don't miss it.</li>

In total, I found Em:t 0004 to be light-years ahead of its compilational predecessor, and a sign of great things to come from the fledgling reborn label. The label's focus seems clearer accordingly--fans who found the original Em:t compilations intriguing, diverse, and challenging will find the 2004 installment similarly styled, but not slavish in referencing earlier triumphs. While, as with most compilations, not everything was to my taste, I found the quality of each track to be particularly high--especially the standouts by High Skies, Gel-sol, and International Peoples Gang. If Em:t 0003 left the jury still out whether the resurrection of Em:t itself was necessary or relevant, Em:t 0004 is sure to be the release opening doors to new listeners. Stay tuned; Em:t part two is clearly just beginning to gain momentum.

OöPHOI & TAU CETI

Archaic Oceans

Umbra (2004)

 

TAU CETI

Four Short Pieces

Somnium

Todstimmung

Todahnlich

Umbra (2004)

PERCEPTUAL DEFENCE

Sounds from Space

Umbra (2004)

 

SOSTRAH TINNITUS

Favo di Fiele

Umbra (2004)

 

NOTE: All of these releases are available via the Deep Listenings website.

Oöphoi should be no stranger to those who feel drone-oriented ambient works are the most appealing examples of the modern form. Taking his cues from the ritual ambient of Alio Die and the droneworlds of peers and collaborators like Mathias Grassow and Klaus Wiese, Gianluigi Gasparetti, the man behind the Oöphoi project, has risen to prominence as one of ambient's brightest talents. He's also one of ambient's biggest supporters through his tireless devotion to the "scene" and his critical 'zine Deep Listenings. It comes as no surprise, then, that Gasparetti should start his own CDR label to provide an "official" outlet for his own work (though he's released most of his albums via CDR for years) and to release work by unknown artists who deserve greater recognition for their efforts. So far, we've seen a highly recommended offering by Sostrah Tinnitus, Nebra</a>, and a label sampler called World of Shadows</a>. As you'll read, there's a lot more to explore from Gasparetti and his cohorts....

First up is the newest collaboration between Oöphoi and Enrico Cosimi (recording as Tau Ceti). The follow-up to the excellent Subterranea</a>, Archaic Oceans is a sprawling two-disc set in lovely Amplexus style packaging. Their paean to the oceans of Earth's past proves to be as deep and dark as the seas, with six long, haunting tracks of drone-based ambience. Disc one, my personal favorite, begins with the monumental "Atlantis Rising," nearly forty minutes of glacially drifting tones and harmonics. It swells up from the depths with soothing waves of sound that remind me of both Rod Modell's Autonomous Music Project and Robert Rich's seminal Trances/Drones. The listener is caught in a prehistoric tide pool, swept along by ancient waves, soothed by the psychoactive qualities of the synthwork here. Eventually the track metamorphs into holy trance music similar to that of Wiese and Grassow, lightened by the ghostly vocals of Luna. Clearly, we are channeling the powers of these ancient bodies of water, as they call to the inner seas of blood within us, the tidal movements of our own flesh. "Atlantis Rising" is one of the best Oöphoi tracks ever, and certainly the high point of this set. "Ophir" is more hushed, a relief after the intensity of its predecessor. The buffeting soundwaves continue, this time dressed with spirit-synth breaths that recall the first Tau Ceti collaboration, Celestial Geometries.

Disc two is quite different from its counterpart in the set--a much darker and spookier affair. We've descended beneath the waves for this one, treated to glimpses of strange and sometimes frightening underwater lifeforms. "Meru" is a zone of stillness reminding me of some of the tracks on Oöphoi's recent Dreams set. Eighteen minutes of evolving, phased drones pass slowly like the dreams of ancient whales. "Faroer" is the set's shortest track and also the least natural sounding. Piercing synth tones give way to almost inaudible droning that shines strange lights over a dark sea. "Piri Aeis" recalls why Gasparetti's 'zine is titled Deep Listening--you'll have to listen closely to note all the subtle, strange changes in sound and atmospheres occurring over nearly eighteen minutes. Perhaps a little quiet for its own good, this track seems a bit too innocuous and intangible. Finally, "Ultima Thule" is even quieter, as though we've hit ocean's bottom to find ourselves under the silt and plant-life. Fans of the recent Dreams of Shells will find a close relative of those environments here, though the final minutes of the track offer unusually bright synth tones.

Archaic Oceans's first disc is worth the price of admission here, and far outshines the second. Nevertheless, as a total, it's one of the finest examples of drone-based ambient I've heard this year. In a year especially marked by too many releases in this vein, it's comforting to know the masters of the form continue to show how it's done. This double-disc set merits my highest recommendation and is likely to appear on my best-of-2004 list.

Tau Ceti himself seems to have been hoarding releases, as Umbra treats us to no fewer than five solo albums by him. I'll review the four I received, hoping I don't drown in all the drones during the writing. If you find that Oöphoi or Mathias Grassow exemplify the term "static soundscapes," you're in for a surprise when you hear the even more minimal work of Tau Ceti solo.

Four Short Pieces is exactly that: four ambient tracks that clock in at around ten minutes a piece. "Medusa" opens the set with high-pitched synth drones that form a creepy cloudbank, covering the landscape. "De Hoc Satis" is even more minimal--bassy, metallic drones seem to effect the walls of your listening space, drawing them ever closer. "Frozen Stream" is the stasis-sound of waters rushing, married with some extremely psychoactive effects, as if one is captured within a droplet of water as it blasts noisily along. Finally, "Nightwinds," which reminds me of Karl Edward Wagner's creepy fantasy stories, is a gorgeous assembly of ambient tones that ebb and flow peacefully. The sonic swells on this track are very well done, and come as something of a relief after the punishingly quiet drones on the rest of the album. A highlight.

I have a difficult time recommending Four Short Pieces. As you can tell from the brevity of my descriptions, it's a particularly one-note album, which lacks both diversity and album-length flow. It feels like a collection of tracks that fit uncomfortably on other Tau Ceti releases--they fit uncomfortably together on this disc, as well. If you cannot get enough static droning in your life, this may be for you--in my case, I found it unsatisfying and one-dimensional.

Next is Somnium, a seventy-two minute track that proves Tau Ceti can create dark ambient with the best of them. As with many Umbra releases, Somnium is mastered to an extremely low volume, suggesting the artist would have you listen at quiet levels. In my home's listening space, I normally have the volume set to between ten and sixteen--for this release, I had it set to twenty-eight, and it still felt quiet! Headphone listening is recommended, especially for listeners in noisy cities or suburbs. Deep and dark drones, cold as the surface of the moon, underpin strange ritualistic sounds--perhaps synth or processed vocals. The pace here is slow, but progressive. The spiraling, abyssal drones work their way beneath the skin by sheer force of staying power. I found myself zoning out repeatedly, no matter what I was doing while the CD played. Aficionados of both Gasparetti's Athlit and the collaboration Celestial Geometries (not to mention the more minimal CDs by Thomas Köner) will find the dark vastnesses of this album appealing, especially for the dark hours of night listening. The mood here is bleak but appealing--this sort of minimalism may not be on your everyday listening menu, but it's a fine example of the form. I'm running out of descriptors for this one--if you enjoy any of the artists I've mentioned, Somnium is sure to be a worthy addition to your collection.

If you found the previous Tau Ceti album reviewed to be a little on the sunny side of life, don't worry. Todstimmung or "death tendency" brings his dark drones to the world of the afterlife with the expected ghostly result. Thankfully, we aren't subjected to Halloween-styled Lustmordian creaking and shrieking here. Instead, Todstimmung presents three long tracks of ambience that act as a mirror to the spirit realm, where all our past ancestors dwell, wisps of spectral light pointing the way forward. If humans could gaze through a mystical window into the everyday habits of dead spirits, "Todstimmung" would be the soundtrack. I first played this track while walking along a deserted street in my town, after dark, and succeeded in creeping myself out in a masterful way. One can almost see the specters open their mouths, with the sound of Tau Ceti's electronically-rendered atmospheres issuing forth as their language. Very satisfying, but not for the faint of heart. Oöphoi comes on board for track two, "Crossing the Styx," a surprisingly bassy and reverberant zone (not unlike Oöphoi's own Behind the Wall of Sleep). This is a rather static track, with entrancing soundwaves that threaten to swallow the listener whole. At over twenty-five minutes, it's a little taxing on the patience--it seems to be satisfied endlessly iterating, like a ghost forced to enact its last moments forever throughout eternity. Finally, another twenty-five minute track, "Agni" is a sonic invocation of the Vedic god of sacrificial fire. Appreciators of Klaus Wiese's meditational works created with Tibetan singing bowls will find many stylistic similarities here. Again, the tendency to fill half an hour with static synth drones prevails. In this case, it's a breathlessly intense drone, though suited more toward passive listening than an engaged experience. As a meditation aid, the final two tracks of Todstimmung would seem perfectly apt. As satisfying, engaging listening, they fall somewhat short of the mark.

Our final Tau Ceti album is also death related. Todahnlich is a stylistic relative of Todstimmung, though is, quite frankly, a far superior album. The spirit-realm drones are present here, but are pleasingly conjoined with complimentary synth passages and bass vibrations that break up the relentless monotony marvelously. "In Crystallum Densare" reaches Klaus Wiese levels of spiritual stillness over its twenty minutes, a haunted zone containing some mysterious and exciting noises that simultaneously intrigued and frightened me. The glacial pace is present, but there are enough sonic embellishments to captivate the listener as it lulls into a meditational trance. This is the imaginary soundtrack to barren moors, grey days, deserted planets, spirit dreamings. It's a claustrophobic atmosphere, though unthreatening and progressive, like the best of Oöphoi's work. The second track, "In Lapidem Convertere," could be an outtake from Subterranea. It's a great companion piece to "In Crystallum Densare"--slowly shifting, otherworldly, and recalling zones both celestial and earthbound. The synthwork feels focused, never lapsing into endless repeated drones. I've found this album to be an effective companion before bed, its gently cycling synth tones ushering the listener into Morpheus's realm effortlessly. If Nebula's Path of White Clouds</a> or the oft-mentioned Subterranea appeal to you, Todahnlich is a must-have.

As a whole, Tau Ceti's most impressive work still lies in his collaborations with Oöphoi. It seems Gasparetti's command of the genre reins in Cosimi's tendencies to let the synths do all the work. While Somnium is an interesting, if not completely engaging work, the real gem here is Todahnlich--if your pocketbook allows only one Tau Ceti disc, this is the one. Tau Ceti's appeal is somewhat diluted with lackluster releases on Umbra so far. Some of the tracks would benefit from a little editing--there are shells of excellent albums in there; all that's required to release them is a little focus. Clearly Tau Ceti's a name to watch, but, so far, his best solo work appears to be ahead of him.

Perceptual Defence appeared on the Umbra World of Shadows compilation with a track I'd described as similar to Tau Ceti's work. His debut CD, Sounds from Space, is completely different and utterly bizarre when compared to the other Umbra releases I've heard. It's a single track, fifty-five minutes long--an interstellar suite of sorts, as evidenced by the album's subtitle, "The Deep Space Program." I'm at a loss to describe where each of the five parts begins and ends, but the album flow is there, as if it was created all in one live performance or marathon recording session. Electrical chittering opens the album, spasmodically signaling the coming lift-off into space. Gradually, we realize we're not in the modern, sleek spacecraft of the modern era, but in a flying saucer straight out of The War of the Worlds. In fact, it seems Perceptual Defence has borrowed a lot of his musical cues from sci-fi sound effects and soundtracks from fifties cinema. No pretentious modern-ambient treatise this, but instead a throwback to the days of Louis and Bebe Barron, sound effects LPs, and early electronic music. Synth drones are embellished with utterly weird effects--bloops, bleeps, laser noises, klaxons, and processed sound effects (an immediately recognizable siren can be heard) are all featured heavily on the earlier parts of the album. Things calm down a little later, as we continue to journey deeper into space. This calming is typified by experimentally leaning synth and electronic treatments that portray a truly alien sonic element. Things never calm enough to call this ambient music in the traditional sense of the term. It's more an exploration in different tones and effects that occasionally tested my capacity for utter strangeness. There's an analog or classic electronic feel to most of the album. Much of Sounds from Space reminded me of yesteryear's exotica LPs--sci-fi noises and unusual tonalities that are not meant to soothe the listener.

Deep space, in Perceptual Defence's world, does not care. It's cold and inexplicable. Like true space travel, it requires a listener who is bravely prepared to experiment and test ones own limits. Sounds from Space is absolutely not for everyone. It's fifty-five minutes that will intrigue, confuse, delight, and often frustrate the listener. Those who feel ambient music is a bit too "easy" will certainly find enough impenetrably obtuse passages to please them. Those looking for deep space drifting without the crunch of experimentalist tendencies are advised to steer well clear of this one. It's a refreshing anomaly in the Umbra catalog.

Lastly on our trip through Umbra Records' recent offerings, we have Sostrah Tinnitus's follow-up to the fantastic Nebra CD from earlier this year. As I wrote about Sostrah Tinnitus's previous efforts, Favo di Fiele is a must for fans of Alio Die's ritual ambient music. A flair for intensity of drone, coupled with natural sound effects, processing, and creative use of traditional instruments colors Sostrah's work, making each album a peer of Stefano Musso's groundbreaking ambient project.

Favo di Fiele has a few less tracks than the usual Sostrah disc, choosing instead to stretch out into longer, more improvisatory ambient work. "Passo di Parca" exemplifies the Sostrah Tinnitus sound--entrancing synth drones, bird calls, and a faded sitar or zither intertwine into a psychedelic ambient passage that grips immediately and doesn't let go. Similarities to Alio Die are, as usual, present--think of this as a combination of Alio Die's Under an Holy Ritual and Robert Rich's album with Lisa Moskow, Yearning. The same dusty atmosphere prevails, but with lo-fi production values. "L'umida afa che Fluttua dal Suolo" (the sultry humidity fluctuating from the ground) is also Alio Die-esque, recalling the isolationist, post-industrial tendencies of the tracks on The Door of Possibilities. Intensely dark stuff. "Ascensional Air Columns" is a cold autumn day, leaves and plant detritus making imaginary circulations as they're swirled by the prevailing winds. "Lento Crescere di Muffe" (according to Google, the title loosely translates as the "slow growing of mildew") is Sostrah Tinnitus's answer to Aphex Twin's "Blue Calx"--the microcosm of tiny plant organisms slowly swelling, moving outward, ever expanding. "Favo di Fiele" (a play on words in Italian that means "honeycomb of bile") doesn't quite live up to the angsty title. It's a glurpy track of shifting drones, both dark and bright, enlivened by cicadas and other unrecognizable samples. The monstrous "Radiolaria" closes the album on a fantastic note. A lonely saxophone distantly scronks out "My Favorite Things," until the harmonic drones take over. This track is far more minimal than the rest of the album, but no less psychoactive. If you'd previously thought Alio Die had the market cornered on this specific niche of the ambient field, you owe it to yourself to hear "Radiolaria"--it's the kind of ambient that inspires a lifetime's devotion to the curiously addictive genre.

Once again, Sostrah Tinnitus (on his third disc in 2004!) does not disappoint. The tracks on Favo di Fiele seem a little less developed than those on Nebra which leads me to believe this might be older work receiving its first official release here. Nevertheless, this is a worthy addition to Sostrah's burgeoning discography and a fine listen from front to back. While not as essential as Nebra, in my opinion, Favo has its share of stunners and is sure to appeal to Alio Die fans around the globe--it seems criminal that music like this should be limited to only ninety-nine copies worldwide. Don't miss this one.