With the recent review of Deaf Center’s ‘Owl Splinters’ in the bag, Erik and Otto took time out to give some more insight into what will probably be one the the best releases of 2011 and beyond…

After 6 years since ‘Pale Ravine’ why was now the right time for the next Deaf Center record?

EKS : I guess the main reason is the move to Berlin, where I suddenly met a lot of new great people like Monique from sonic pieces who again introduced me to Nils Frahm. Nils has a really great and inspirational studio in his home, and since John (type boss) had been wanting us to do a new record for years now, we all agreed it would be a good time and place to make it happen.

The album sounds incredible, can you give us some insight into the production process?

EKS : What we did was rent a cello for the weekend to try and see if we could get some good stuff out of it. Experimenting with recording piano, guitar, cello, synths and what we could find of nice sounding objects in Nils´s studio. It was quite a strange experience, as none of us had really recorded in a proper studio before. We quickly found out it was great fun, and used the next 3 days finishing almost the whole record with really great production help by Nils.

OAT: I’ve used a lot of time gathering samples and loops. You hear one of them used in New Beginning (Tidal Darkness). The good thing with sample material like this is that we can use them as a sort of canvas – making it much easier to get something started. But we had so much to play with in Nils’s studio that we didn’t use them anywhere else.

Creatively, when planning this record had you decided you would opt for a studio set up and how did this influence your approach to making the record?

EKS : Yeah, we pretty much went in to the studio with very little plans on what would come out of it. It just felt very exciting trying out a totally new approach to making a record, rather than doing it the same way as we did with pale ravine back then.

OAT: Nils asked us “ok guys, so do you have any plans for this album?”. We both answered “No… none”. Nils wasn’t set-back by this at all – he just said “OK then, let’s get started.”, and 3 days later we were done – Crazy – And we had a bloody good time doing it too. Oh, and pancakes, the best pancakes ever!

You’ve both had some time to develop your solo work. How do you think this has helped your musicianship as a duo?

EKS : It has defiantly helped us come to where we are now. Also from when we decided to go instrumental with our live shows a while back, instead of basing it on samples, sounds and voice. I think playing the few live shows we’ve had, over the last years have helped us integrate each other styles more. Neither of us are classically trained in anything though, so it’s more a process of finding out what works.

What’s it like working at Nils’ studio? Did he help out with the production at all?

EKS : Yes, very much so. Since it was all recorded into his Cubase setup (which he defiantly knows better than us!), we we´re trying to guide him and use him for the talents he has. He also contributed a lot on the actual recordings.

OAT: In this case, Nils was the 3rd band member.

Are there any particular influences on the Deaf Center sound?

EKS : Hmm. That´s very hard to answer. I’m sure there´s tons of influences, but defiantly not as specific ones as when we made Pale Ravine.

OAT: I think our biggest influences for Owl Splinters is what we have performed live.

Do you plan to tour as Deaf Center to help promote this record?

EKS: I don´t think we´ll do a proper tour, as also Otto has a job he has to take care of home in Norway. But we´ll definatly be playing shows. First one out beeing Unsound festival, New York in early april.

What can we expect from Deaf Center going forward?

EKS : No idea! That´s part of the fun with DC : )

OAT: I’ll second that!

This interview originally featured on Fluid Radio

The release, known as ‘Depart, Repeat’ is part of a new initiative launched by Berlin based label Sonic Pieces who will launch a series of limited edition vinyl releases over the next few years. Available on a custom designed gatefold package and limited to only 300 copies, the package also includes a free download.

Both songs offer sombre and heartfelt insights into Scott’s dealings with serious illness after suffering from several health scares. The first track, ‘Never Alone’ features delicately plucked guitar that calls to mind some of the acoustic Part Timer releases. Backed with a mysterious swirl of sound and occasional hints of glockenspiel, the song possesses a mystical quality. This is enhanced by Simon’s trembling voice and his lyrics that tell us of cherished, shared moments with a companion. It builds to a powerful crescendo of echoed vocals with Nils Frahm offering support on piano.

‘Left Behind the World’ is more musically upbeat, with heavily strummed guitar and glockenspiel recalling some of the solo work of Adem Ilhan. Nils Frahm again lends great service to the instrumentation, while Scott’s song tells us of passing of life and the relief death can offer from suffering and pain which counter balances the uplifting backing.

It is always encouraging to hear an artist break free from the sounds they are associated with. As such ‘Depart, Repeat’ offers the listener a different side to Simon Scott and one we hope he explores further. It also marks a successful launch of the ‘Seven Pieces’ project and we greatly anticipate what Sonic Pieces’ have in store for the series’ next instalment.

This review originally featured on Fluid Radio

The term Cinéma vérité or film truth was coined by French filmmakers in the 1960s as they sought alternate means to telling stories to those of Hollywood movies. Production techniques did not rely on star actors, sets or props nor special effects or big budgets. Cinéma vérité films comprised of non-actors, often used handheld photography, and actual homes and surroundings as their locations.

Over the last 40 years, the Cinéma vérité movement has evolved, with documentary filmmakers often using the same “laws” to explore their subjects. One such person is Vincent Moon, a Parisian independent filmmaker who has made his name for documenting musicians by employing similar techniques. In addition to music videos for mainstream artists like R.E.M and Arcade Fire, Vincent Moon has developed his unique approach to capturing music on film through his Take Away Shows. Here Moon effectively constructs music videos by shooting one take recordings of musicians performing in unusual settings. In 2009 he was commissioned to direct ‘Burning’ a concert film for the group Mogwai. A much lauded film, since then Moon has been on the road exploring the marrying of sound and vision.

Last year, the Danish group Efterklang released their third studio album, ‘Magic Chairs.’ Universally acclaimed and widely revered the album enhanced the group’s reputation of having a unique approach to song writing. The coming together of both Vincent Moon and Efterklang therefore represents an exciting prospect, and we’re delighted to offer a review of ‘An Island’ which is the product of their collaboration.

The film was born out of the idea of creating a video piece the same duration as an album and one full of experimentation and performance. Shot on the island of Als over just four days, the film features music from the ‘Magical Chairs’ album and includes over 200 local musicians, kids and parents.

Commencing with an eerie collection of silhouettes of the group on a small boat looking out to the horizon, a gentle drone slowly builds in the background. We see shots of birds in the sky as the background noise builds to its crescendo, announcing the film’s opening. Shortly after, black and white shots of the world passing slowly take form.

The style of this opening sets the tone for the film as a whole. Throughout we witness a structure that blends from often hauntingly abstract photography with minimal sound or dialogue to some incredibly uplifting and engaging live renditions of Efterklang songs.

Indeed this is typified when we are given a brilliant insight into the capturing of field recordings. The group are seen traversing through an old farmyard recording organic percussion sounds through drumming on iron gates, tapping on machinery and even stomping in the mud and collecting raindrops. From this a short story is told about two boys driving on a cart to school. We see one of the band members waking through a forest tuning a radio settling on some classical music, before the film progresses to the group on the back of a cart singing the song ‘Raincoat.’

Here we witness a collection of people seeming in love with the creation of music. As the cart moves through the forest, and the group clap, strum guitar and sing in harmony, there is not only a great sense of cohesion between the performers but a genuine passion for their performance.

Throughout we are treated to cameos from other familiar musicians with regular Efterklang contributors Peter and Heather Woods Broderick featuring prominently. In another heart warming musical rendition we see Nils Frahm create music with a broom as Vincent Moon expertly directs his camera around the inside of the barn.

The film itself looks beautiful, successfully showcasing the capabilities of digital video. In addition to the ambient shots of scenery, Vincent Moon also employs clever techniques to the live musical performances often linking visuals to the short lines of spoken word that precede the acts. In the barn scene old people seamlessly replace the position of some of the musicians who were originally playing. We also see school children perform in tandem with the group after hearing a short interlude on growing up, while the final performance takes place in a high school auditorium.

Here, a handheld camera weaves through the crowd, while the band appear out of focus in the background. As the camera approaches the stage, a chorus of students sing directly to the camera. Moon then guides his camera backstage and eventually on to the platform itself. The once audience-facing chorus now sing in direction of the musicians. With the music over, the camera tracks Efterklang walking off stage and into the evening outside, bringing the film to its conclusion.

In what is both a brilliant film and also a fine exhibition of musical talent ‘An Island’ successfully captures the artists’ intentions to create something unconventional and abstract. This however does not interfere with the films accessibility. If this is indeed an example of contemporary Cinéma vérité, then we should be excited by the truth it depicts as we witness a film maker who magically captures the animation, devotion and unconditional love these musicians seemingly have for the sounds they create.

Photography by Antje Taiga Jandrig

This review originally featured on Fluid Radio

Having had the opportunity to delve deep into ‘Owl Splinters,’ perhaps its most striking quality is in its production value. The lo-fi techniques found in ‘Pale Revine’ are souped-up considerably thanks to the music being recorded at Nils Frahm’s Durton studio in Berlin. This is evident from album opener ‘Divider’ where Erik Skovdin’s cello loops itself in foreboding fashion to create a sea of blackness. The sound is sharp, layered and loud, and a stereoscopic sense of foreboding is conjured. Having this play on full volume is recommended as these sounds will completely envelop the listener.

In addition to the quality of the production, where one can hear the minutest of sounds, the other underlying attributes of this album are both in its ambition and scope. On ‘New Beginning (Tidal Darkness)’ we are taken on journey deep into a place of mystery as the cadaverous bass of Otto Totland’s piano initially work to support Skovdin’s cello. In the end the two come together with the creepy high notes of piano balanced by a swirling darkness of strings.

Perhaps the centre piece of the album comes in the ten minute epic ‘The Day I Would Never Have.’ Here, once again the balance of the two musicians is delicate as we hear small glitches and clicks work their way into the music. A loud force of light is concocted as the bowing of strings build to an unrelenting crescendo. The break away from this is enthralling as a relative silence is then greeted with delicate piano play to bring the track to a close.

These grand compositions are also supported by shorter numbers which showcase the individual skills of each performer. ‘Time Spent’ is a wonderful piano track right up there with some of the works of revered pianists like Keith Kenniff and indeed Nils Frahm. While ‘Animal Sacrifice’ showcases some prolific bowing from its player.

Despite casting ‘Owl Splinters’ as a continuation of the doom lead sound that Deaf Center have become synonymous with, there can be no doubting that in amongst the nightmarish qualities presented there is also a ghostly beauty at work. At many times one will be touched by notes and indeed phrases in ways that other musicians within this genre have failed to achieve. As such ‘Owl Splinters’ comes with the highest of recommendations and stands as one of the most essential releases of the year thus far.

This review originally featured on Fluid Radio

Indeed, the magically profound and loving vocals of folk music that were made prominent through singers such as Sandy Denny, Jacqui McShee and the more recent renaissance of Vashti Bunyan in many ways further illustrate another element to this genre’s diminished prevalence; the female voice. That is to not undermine the many wonderful female vocalists who perform today, but there have been few singers that managed to capture that wonder of a past time.

It is with great pleasure therefore to delve into the world of ‘Stray Birds’ a striking album by singer, songwriter and poet Autumn Grieve. We recently commented on her work as one part of duo *AR. On that album, listeners were limited to a voice void of lyrics and while unmistakably beautiful, it is a real joy to hear Autumn’s voice in both tonal and poetical glory throughout this record.

After a short opening of acoustic guitar we are drawn into the vocals. Backed by strings Autumn announces herself, “When I shine/It reflects the depths in you/All my trust within my palms/I offer open to you.” Indeed the song, entitled ‘Alight’ and the first of six on this album, introduces us not only to the recurrent theme of love, but also to the element of Air which was the inspiration for this record. We hear of this as she sings, “You’d think that I’d have flown by now/You’d think that I’d have learned to revel somehow/But it came down like death and though alight where I may now/Here at your feet I remain.”

On ‘Within Hollows’ a guitar, strings and cymbals introduce this mysterious and stormy song. As the cymbals crash creating musical waves and the strings and guitars combine to create an unsettling scene, Autumn’s chorus rings true; “See how dark the heart as cold as waves that ride a coal dark sea/See how dark the heart as rootless as waves that ride a coal dark sea.”

‘Shades’ steps into more sombre territory, but we hear a full range to Grieve’s enchanting voice. As the title suggests, we learn of the darkness and light that clouds our existence as she sings “As the day does dim/Nods into the dusk/I await the pollinating stars.” This rich imagery continues on tracks ‘Revenants’ and ‘Depart.’ On the former, prevalent strings support the eerie vocals, “In a kindness that will not sustain but instead will undo/And I go like a stone to a spark/I go a revenant to flesh/I am the ship foundering in the darkness.”

Closing track ‘Kneel’ is a work of true grace. The stark beauty found throughout the record build to a crescendo on this number where echoed vocals work in tandem with the ever present guitar and strings. Here, her lyrics abide closely with nature “The fern, the moss and the willow/The hare and the thorn/The scar, the rake and the hollow/All fall.”

Richard Skelton provides expert support in his accompaniment, never once intruding on the main performer, but ensuring she is comforted in masterful hands. In true fashion of Corbel Stone Press, the packaging is second to none. A now sold out edition also contained a book of poetry, but the standard edition still comes beautifully pressed with a bespoke owl print on each copy. However, the real centrepiece of this record is the artist herself. Autumn Grieve, whose voice compares well with Denver folk singer Carla Sciaky, successfully captures the beauty of folk song writing from yesteryear without feeling like a contrived reminiscence. For this is music bound by no time and unlike the roaming birds in this album’s title, we hope Autumn Grieve proves to be anything but a stray musician as her music deserves to be heard by many.

This review originally featured on Fluid Radio

Performing arts lend themselves perfectly to this form of investigation, particularly from a critical and analytical perspective. For example, studying filmmakers such as Hsiao-hsien Hou and Wong Kar Wai within this context is enthralling. Here we have artists widely regarded as two of Asia’s most accomplished filmmakers, yet their attempts to make films within a western environment proved disappointing. Was this a case of their art being inaccessible in translated form, or a simple case of their comfort zone being broken? The analysis is of course the result of a subjective matter, but there can be no doubt that the change in habitual circumstance had an impact on their creative output.

So how does this introduction relate to music and in particular to the critical analysis of our subject – ‘Wolf Notes’ – a new record by Autumn Richardson and Richard Skelton? Having learnt from previous entries into the Skelton canon of the importance of environment in terms of landscape, nature and setting, this opening will set the tone for what will follow, as we look to understand how change as well as subject has allowed ‘Wolf Notes’ to stand as another vital recording from one of Britain’s essential composers.

Released under the artist name AR, ‘Wolf Notes’ comes from the collective pseudonym of its two performers. ‘Wolf Notes’ plays homage to the landscape, place-names, flora and fauna of Ulpha which is nestled in Cumbria, Northern England. Here Richard travels further north from his native Lancashire, a setting for which he had previously commented on under his A Broken Consort guise.

From opening track ‘Inception,’ the first of five that comprise this album, listeners are reintroduced to the classic Skelton sound and at first it is unclear whether a change of scenery has affected the composers work. Awash with melancholy, a slow bowing of strings overlaps itself, joined by a soft use of cymbals. As the track slowly builds we begin to hear the light semblance of a female’s voice. It only becomes clear that this is indeed the calling of Autumn Richardson as ‘Inception’ seamlessly blends into the album’s second track ‘Rise.’

While previous recordings from the artist have taught us of one of his traits – the use of auditory motifs or repeated and often looped stringed phrases – ‘Rise’ introduces us to a evolution of the Skelton sound; the voice. Yet in spite of this addition, the sound remains true to form. Here Richardson’s enchanting hums take centre stage forming motifs of their own, while Richard’s string play slowly develops in the background.

Relating to this advancement in the composers’s auditory palette, it is interesting to refer this back to our earlier commentary on environment. Here it is clear that the intimacy between both recording artists has translated to their creativity. Does the enveloping sounds of the voice with looped strings symbolise more than just a musical duet or are we witnessing a joining of two beings through musical form? Has Skelton stepped back to allow this new presence in his life to form the centre of his creative output? As before these questions are born through the subjective nature of art, but they prove interesting nonetheless.

As ‘Rise’ reaches its crescendo, a subtle change in Autumn Richardson’s tonality transfers us to ‘Decline.’ Here we witness the continuing narrative journey which again is a customary ingredient to Richard Skelton’s compositions. Again, the same themes exist as prior, but with small changes to drive the story forward. For large portions of this track, we are treated to just strings, while occasionally the ghostly and enchanting qualities of Autumn’s voice reappear.

On ‘Rest,’ a much shorter track to the two found previous, large parts of it are built through near silence or the slight reverberations of percussion. Here we hear the occasional note of vocals slowly weave their way into the music before fading to black. The album closes on ‘Return,’ where again we witness a spiralling of string play and vocals working together in tandem. The mysterious qualities of Richardson’s voice take on a more forlorn form as they cry around the piercing loops of Skelton’s string play.

‘Wolf Notes’ is an enchanting release. We hear of a record that will retains the familiar qualities of previous Richard Skelton albums, but one that also builds on these thanks to the addition of Autumn Richardson’s captivating chorus. While this record is without doubt an ode to Ulpha and its surrounding environment – as is referenced again through Skelton’s remarkable attention to the packaging, the album is also an important example of how wider factors can positively influence creativity. In this sense, one can hope that there is a degree of permanency to the AR pseudonym as we look forward to future recordings not only from this duet, but also the continuation of their solo work which no doubt will be inspired thanks to the habitual advancements that have impacted both performers.

This review originally featured on Fluid Radio

With undertones of jazz throughout, thanks to the intermittent waves of horn play from collaborators such as Araki Shin and Akira Uchida as well as a twinkling of percussion, ‘Twilight’ offers a welcome alternative to some other piano focused music which largely fall into the ever expanding categorisation of modern classical compositions.

Nakamura’s record is delicate, yet simple in its construction. We hear of gentle, colourful phrases through his piano which seamlessly capture the feel of a closing winter’s day. From the first few tracks on the album, images of bleeding sunsets, wafer thin clouds and foggy breath are stirred through a meshing of piano, flute and strings. On ‘Harmonie du Soir,’ horns and piano work with a sporadic march of drums. Here one can sense a day concluding as people silently traverse a city to return to their homes.

While these opening tracks do lend themselves to broader jazz roots thanks to the horns and Isao Saito’s sparkles of cymbals, listeners are also treated to some beautiful music that forms from strings and vocals. We hear a duet between violin and piano and listeners witness a heightened sensitivity from Nakamura. These honest and welcoming compositions are ones that continue the homely construction found earlier in the album but illustrate a variety to Nakamura’s musical palette. Similarly on ‘Twilight’ one of two vocal tracks, April Lee sings over an acoustic guitar while blended recordings of children playing expand the sound, giving it a grander sense of the real world.

Having previously collaborated with fellow Japanese pianist, Akira Kosemura, ‘Twilight’ arrives as Nakamura’s second solo album. As with Kosemura and other native musicians such as Motohiro Nakashima, Nakamura’s Twilight represents another compelling addition to the burgeoning independent music scene in Japan. Available through the Kitchen label, ’Twilight’ will extend the warmth of a setting sun; easing listeners through even the darkest of nights.

This review originally featured on Fluid Radio

Using a mixture of classical instruments such as cello, violin and tuba and blending them with guitar, electronic harp, synth and audio FXs, Petit and his accomplices translate the nightmarish visions usually found in surrealist cinema into an auditory form.

The album opens with a processed blend of guitar strumming and cello bowing enveloping the listener in a mist of confusion. Titled ‘When a Seahorse Met a Seafish,’ the track grows to resemble the aquatic qualities that its name alludes to. An effervescent mix of percussion, high pitched guitar, harp and strings create a sense of underwater flight, which prove a light respite from the gloomy uncertainty of the opening moments of the recording. Eventually however, these give way to the sinister sounds found earlier on.

On ‘The Nuptial Flight of Fireflies’ the listener is taken on an epic voyage through the night. Here eerie horns and audio effects blend with strings to create a dank, yet fantastical atmosphere. Occasional fuzzes of electronic noise burst through the more melodic sentiments of a tuba, presumably to represent the buzzing of flies. A steady chaos builds as the track progresses, all the while the wind instruments provide an unusual sense of calm, like hearing the echoes of a jazz club spill out into the void of a sprawling metropolis.

Collaborators throughout the album include Helena Espvall , Fred Lonberg-Holm and Bela Emerson on cello, Raphaelle Rinaudo (electric harp), Maria Grigoryeva and James Johnston on violins, Andy Diagram (trumpet/FX), Richard Harrison (percussions), Alexander Bruck (strohviol/viola), Tom Heasley (tuba) and Hervé Vincenti (guitar). Bas Mantel provides the artwork.

In spite of the dark nature at work here, there is also an unmistakable fragility to the music which shines throughout the album. On ‘Pellicula’ melancholic strings feature throughout and whilst sombre, they do highlight a more delicate sound from the other, more dystopian ones found in Petit’s armoury. Similarly a solo piano found on ‘Night Elves Jukebox’ stands out in isolation from the manipulated vibrations that intertwine and circulate its presence.

‘A Scent of Garmambrosia’ is not an easy album. That however is not its intention. Philippe Petit and his friends have set about creating a cinematic audio realm with a collection of hard hitting and sometimes hard on the ear recordings. Like the Lynchian worlds these sounds are clearly inspired by Petit and co offer the listener a space to penetrate the impenetrable; making a wealth of sound creation open to personal interpretation.

This review originally featured on Fluid Radio

In what has become somewhat of a trend within portions of experimental music, key to the output of this artist is his relative anonymity. As we’ve seen with Burial in the past and more recently with Hummingbird, having little information to go by in many ways allows the music to take centre stage, while the artist builds a rapport of being a mysterious creator lurking behind the sounds.

Originally a cassette, limited CD and 7” Reel release, this extended vinyl only version comes courtesy of Experimedia. With two additional tracks, the album runs at approximately 45 mins and is best experienced in a single sitting as one really senses being fully encompassed by the noise and taken in by the unnerving atmosphere that this record possesses.

Despite this, as the album’s name suggests, the record comprises of eight tracks each around 2 minutes apiece. The album opens with a spiralling sound of humming strings, floated guitar plucks, and a fuzz of drones. This hypnotic quality works well at suturing the listener into the album’s moody universe. There is a sense of a setting void of gravity and while choral cries evoke some sense of light, this opening really feels like a journey into a fantastical world of darkness.

Indeed, when the chorus dies, it is the work of echoed strings, gloomy glitches and echoes that strips away any sense of hope. Rather like a Lynchian world where things viewed closer are a lot darker than on the surface, the further the listener delves into this journey, the more nightmarish it becomes.

At certain points one can hear the muffled noises of a broken orchestra recalling the dystopian qualities of videogames like ‘Fallout’ and ‘Bioshock.’ These motifs of a forgotten, brighter existence are placed to offer the listener a sense of a what was before, and their sudden eradication from the musical journey only strengthen the artist’s attempts at creating an apocalyptic setting for his listeners to become immersed in.

A striking debut that is meticulous in its attention to sound creation, Black Swan’s ‘In 8 Movements’ should appeal to all with a penchant for the darker side of ambient music. One hopes that this artist, who prefers to remain unknown, saves only his physical identity for secrecy and that his musical output has much more presence in the months and years that follow.

This review originally featured on Fluid Radio

Indeed it is the housing of the record that one first notices. The CD is contained within a ribbon-bound book which contains a short story. The narrative, which forms the inspiration for the music provided, tells the tale of two men who leave the Welsh fishing port of Solva to take position as Lighthouse Keepers at Smalls Lighthouse some twenty miles off land. After tragedy strikes, killing one of the men, the story delves into the other’s struggle to remain sane while dealing with the loss of his companion as well as his isolation out at sea.

The prose, written by Michael Tanner and Dianne Allton is simple, yet engaging and is beautifully printed onto recycled paper complete with additional imagery and crafted designs. The impact of all this is an atmosphere that is created before any music has even been played which sets an unusual and engaging tone for what is to follow.

Throughout the record is a consistent reference to weather, with field recordings of rain and crashing tides often setting a backdrop to the instrumentation. On opening track ‘51°43′.23 N 05°40′.10 W’ these sounds are balanced by a lullaby of dulcitone, while recorded gales are reflected musically through Plinth’s use of pump organs. By contrast on ‘Dawn Reflects in the East’ a collection of strings and bells provide a straight instrumental piece here giving the listener a panoramic, birds eye vision of coastal communities. One is drawn closer to this sense of rural life in ‘Message in the Village’ which sounds like the noises of a village folk song trapped within a washed up bottle as the noises of the coast mesh with church bells and strings.

It is this honest approach to sound creation that makes this record such a joy to listen to and as with other Second Language releases, feels like a slice of Britain has been carved and pressed to CD for the listener to enjoy at will. That said there are eerie moments to be found across the record, and again one senses this music as being from a time frozen in Britain’s past. This is clear on the mysterious glockenspiel sounds of ‘Solicitude,’ the rain swept ambience of ‘The Beckoning Arm’ and the surreal humming contained within closing track ‘Sirens.’

In addition to this great album and short story is a numbered photograph highlighting the limited nature of this record; with only 150 in existence. Also included is a free 10 track 3″ CDR of demos for the album entitled ‘Flotsam.’ Overall one can feel a true marrying of the artist and his label where attention to detail, quality production plus a treasured output of sound and packaging is displayed together in a clear unison.

This review originally featured on Fluid Radio