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Decidedly misnamed, Hurried Space drifts in on streams of lush serenity to be gradually underscored by rougher buzzes and electro-organic blips, then eventually penetrated by a murkily primitive rhythm which manifests itself within the sparse arrangements. Dark clunky stirrings and slow rhythmic pulsations open Greys (4:09), which is then set afloat on faint buzzes and meandering currents through some protean swamp which teems with the rattles of synthetic insect life.
Somewhere Current's warm stew of low tones is overlain with a sparkling array of electronic arpeggios; cascading soundbeams, light brassy riffs and additional neo-ancient percussion add to the sultry moods.
The Far Edge of Suburban Station must be the very far edge... I hear no suburbia in the quietly twinkling drifts which emerge from silence. Intermittent throbs and feedback-like swirls rise like phantasmally remembered heatwaves from prehistoria. An airy cyclone whirlpools above Below (10:14), sweeping majestically then entering a bassier phase of protoplasmic ooze and more stratospheric activities as dense synthchords levitate heavenward. Trancey keyboard loops rise and fall amongst the shimmering mists of Cloud Shaping; an expanding bed of percussive effects seeps beneath, surging in volume and density until all fades.
Muffled but insistent, the beats of Conundrum are the most pervasive, stirring the ephemeral mists which spiral all about. A pattern of pulsing lows, Quiet Antenna is draped with criss-crossing sheets of gauzily synthetic material, as well as chittering power surges. Fluffy, though somewhat discordant, clouds hang over
Thick Streets; gleamingly brassy rays shine through as do wavery fibrillations. The piece lifts off, then levitates... away.
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