Scritching, jagged drone that if sped up a fraction of a second would be one long sonorous note. Glass-rim tones create an ethereal background. Jockeying discs or high-pitched voices overlap one another into a frenzy that sounds like a clown car crash or the ululating of strange extinct birds, broken wheels on rusted bicycles still spinning long after they've been abandoned. The sounds all converge, harmonious somehow, sweeping into the crackling of a fire or footsteps in the underbrush. There's a vague tension throughout that builds and builds without notice until it's all you hear, the fire put out by thick fat rain that puddles over the electronics emitting a far-off rumble of thunder. Suddenly there's a light, flutey interlude that fogs up into spooky David Lynch synth before it gets too optimistic. There's always a watery undercurrent that sounds like mosquito larvae twitching. A chorus of barking dogs and mewing cats brings an end to it. Interesting indoor/outdoor ambient. 7/10 -- April Larson (20 August, 2009)