This is an utterly beautiful slice of (almost) the same cosmic cheese that Halve Maen, Double Leopard?s epoch ending/beginning masterpiece, was cut from back in 2004, except that here Marcia Bassett is the solo artist exploring landscapes of hazy water-coloured skin-extraction from incandescent pools of shifting guitar shapes and shadows of bodies. The title here seems to suggest the simultaneous creation of an ?otherness? through the production of the mesmerising sounds whilst that very act of creation understands this projection to be only a ?mirage?, beautiful as it may appear. Yet ?otherness? has such reciprocal and potentially infinitely recurring interpretations that the description involved in the title itself spirals off into the milky blue void just as the one long track on this LP, what I assume is ?Incandescent Landscape?, bores down lovingly into my stomach and makes a whole vortex of curling, static-flecked double-helix patterns churn over each other. What makes this side especially wonderful is that the recording captures, very faintly, Bassett?s ?originary? cries and vocal whorls from across the room ? these then immediately shift into the distorted patterns of blue mist that pervade the intermingling lines of melodic direction and throw light back across the other side of the room, so that the space between where Bassett sings and I hear the record becomes intersected by the electronically (as opposed to acoustically) recorded output of the record. In other words, the ?other? is both the listener and the creator, and both terms become problematized: ever-changing, fluid, just as, or rather because of, the intensely changing formations of blissful drone polyphony emerging from my speakers.

Of the two tracks on the other side, the first is more readily recognisable from the depths of Halve Maen?s vocal insinuations, with Bassett?s voice tracing a wonderfully baritone line through the stereo fuzz, moving with distinction over the contours of the sound beneath her, this rotating crystal thing reflecting corners of the room and now and then peppering the track with a silver outline, water vapours, not wet though, not soppy or saccharine by any stretch, just peacefully and intensely there, in front of you and working its way in/out; there?s an omnipresence of something more threatening, more subterranean, more fleshy and muscular (as in/underneath the skin) in Bassett?s and the Leopard?s work that so many drone dudes miss in favour of a straight on rush to the pot of melodious drone-gold. The second has a whole Henry Flynt thing going on ? a gently tremolo?d viola undulating in a sway alongside vocals often so faint as to be positively ghostly.

This record is great. 9/10 -- Joe Luna (3 April, 2007)