I dunno what you?ve heard from Aussie groan-weirdos The Lost Domain so far, but you?re in for a helluva surprise. I?m fairly sure that there hasn?t been quite such a stunning and vital piece of Paleolithic creak?n?tweetin chirrup-hum cosmic-odyssey ?r-drone committed to tape since Tangerine Dream threw away the rock instrumentation of their first two albums (?Electronic Meditation? and ?Alpha Centauri?), bought a room full of Synthi VCS3s, borrowed Florian Fricke and his Moog from Popol Vuh, temporarily re-hired Steve Schroyder (Ash Ra Tempel) to play his organ, and rounded-up a stoned cello-quartet for to lay down the majestic ?Zeit? in 1972.

This is phenomenal. It?s transfixing. You will not be able leave your seat, nor will you even want to. You may not even be able to blink, or turn your head away, should the gentle yet oh-so-demanding tendrils of sound-gloop find their way into another one of your sensory orifices.

An interstellar blues band gets the nod and sounds off on part 3, making some foolhardy attempt to introduce some semblance of normality, some rhythm, some pitch, some... it?s no use; the laws of the universe are beginning to come unstuck and anyway all the band can manage is something which sounds like the Doppler effect applied to Van Morrison as he sails past you in another dimension, singing ?TB Sheets?. After 10 or 15 minutes Van briefly struggles free of the warp trapping him in space-time to bellow something; and you?re hearing what has to be the slowest, saddest, good-god-damn pitiful and downright-anguished blues holler in the history of humankind.

The final track on the disc is a fun little vignette. A little robot plays a musical saw in a backwater outer-space Vaudeville gig, saving its chips for a ticket off-world; ever dreaming and hoping to hear again that mysterious song which infected its firmware one epic night.

Lost? Don?t think I ever wanna be found. 9/10 -- Stephen Clover (17 July, 2006)