This somewhat cleverlytitled half-hour is immediately
resplendent, Boston's Benjamin Rossignol working in
dense, shimmering drones that seem to radiate outwards from their
thin magnetic housing. The journey on side A is marvellous,
momentous, and infinitely listenable art, the sort of piercing
ambience that evokes night-time cityscapes
and entrancing shadow forms. At its core is a stunning organ tone
which is skilfully teased and tethered about, making for fifteen
minutes of unadulterated sonic hypnosis. Side B, meanwhile, is a
more sinister jaunt, designed around a sharp, electro-metallic
timbre that cuts along amid a haze of electronic atmospherics and
physical chicanery. It's a mesmeric, ethereal tidbit, not as
entrancing as its converse, yet nevertheless astutely becoming (for
experimental music enthusiasts, that is.) Between the two untitled
drones on this iron oxide strip, Ophibre's left me with a
serious case of I-wonder-what-else-he's-done.
