Boomkat Product Review:
This sombre, endlessly fascinating album is already set to become one of the year's cult favourites, having already earned a glowing full-page review from The Wire to sit alongside nuff props from the deep end of the electronic underground. We've been struggling to categorise it, which is praise in itself, but it's safe to say that it will appeal to fans of deepest avant-techno and hauntology alike, and of course those like us who've been dreaming of a fusion of the two. It evokes nothing so pungently as a stroll down a desolate beach with nothing but the black dog of depression for company, but at the same time there's such beauty and complexity to behold that it is, in the end, a totally life-affirming experience. It really demands to be taken on its own terms, but if you're looking for reference points then the combination of field recordings, digital glitches and weary nautical ambience calls to mind Fennesz's Black Sea, Aphex's SAW II, and the stately sonic decay of The Caretaker and Kreng. Brittle melodies shatter and degrade almost as soon as they've formed, tugging your heartstrings and then abruply letting go, but it's the rhythmic elements that elevate this above the morass of elegiac ambient fare that's out there. Dalgish puts percussion sounds to textural rather than a time-keeping use; just as you think you've identified a beat pattern it dismantles itself before your very ears and is subsumed back into the foggy, forbidding ambience from whence it came. It really is a mind-blowing trip, suggesting MR James' Whistle And I'll Come To You if soundtracked by T++, SND, Pole and Rhythm & Sound. Albums like this really don't come around very often, the kind that really mess with your sense of time, space and being. Honestly, this is one of the most intellectually engaging AND emotionally resonant works of electronic auterism we've encountered in recent times, and it comes with our highest recommendation.