Given its subject matter and the fact that it’s the soundtrack to a planetarium show, Stephen Dubois’ 2012: Prophecy of Doom? perhaps understandably runs a bit heavy on theme and bombast in spots. But it’s also got its share of less affected music that treads somewhere between punchy electronica and standard-fare New Age. Dubois calls it “an interpretation of the past with a decidedly modern electronic twist,” and took his musical cue from a documentary that discussed an archeologist finding a mural on a Mayan temple wall that showed an orchestra with flutes, horns and drums. Dubois’ music is evocative enough to carry his story, but I find myself fading in and out of it. He catches me with the Ray Lynch-style vibe of “The Calendar Wheel,” a cool jaunt built on gurgling sequencers and light pads. “Doomsday” also has a nice analog feel, hurrying in on thick bass notes that convey a sense of urgency. Serpentine pads twirl around it, ramping up the sense of pent-up energy awaiting release. A flute flies in to cut the tension and add lightness–a nice touch.  “Sunrise on Dec. 22” is a picture-perfect New Age piano piece that nails its theme with a bright melody and light touches of electronics. “A New Era” blends a nice tribal backdrop with flute sounds for an uplifting world feel. Much of the rest of the disc glides by innocuously enough. The misses here aren’t egregious, and they’re probably not misses at all to a listener a bit more in tune with this type of work. The da da daaa symphonics that close out “The Opening” are just a bit presumptuous for me, which I realize sounds a little petty when we’re talking about the start of a presentation on doomsday. The chanting vocals in “The End of the World” and “Shadows in Stone” have me reaching for the “next” button. Thematic, I know; all I can tell you is that without a visual frame of reference to maybe give me better perspective, it’s not a sound I want to hear. By comparison, the lead male voice in “Shadows in Stone” works well. Feels like the officiant in a mass.

Dubois adds on three bonus tracks–that is, non-doom-related, called “Constellations of the Zodiac,” and these offer a pleasant-enough, lightweight New Age feel.

2012: Prophency of Doom? will find an audience with straightforward New Age listeners. Dubois is a talented musician and these pieces are well constructed; I just feel like he’s a bit shackled by the heft of his theme here. Have a listen.

Available from Ancient Eyes Music.

Future Flows is the second piece of a triptych of discs that began with the excellent Soul Tones, and will conclude in a few months with the final, name-as-yet-unknown disc. As he moves into this next stage of the series, Steve Roach shifts from soft, cocoon-like soundscapes into big flows with more texture and a forceful presence, along with moments of encroaching shadow. In his press materials, Roach likens the music here to other “symphonic ambient” works like Mystic Chords and Sacred Spaces. The comparison is quite valid; there are distinct echoes of that four-disc masterpiece happening here, and they share a sense of remarkable depth and dimension. Counter to its predecessor, Future Flows rises initially on a big, almost ominous crush of pads and tones in “An Omnipresent Sense Prevails.” It’s a dramatic and powerful way to begin this journey, and a visceral one, too; the track holds its immensity until its waning moments when Roach agrees to release us and begin moving us into other territories. “Spectrum of Change” eases out of the opener’s power to become a warm, dreamy river of sound with a rich and resonant low end that touches the soul. It’s got a strong emotional core. “The Texture of Remembering” is a loose swirl of sound, a 10-minute cocoon with a distinct and familiar feel to it. There’s a slightly bouncy analog energy in the flow, but towards the end Roach again takes a hand off the controls and lets it wind itself down to a cleansing close. “Heart of Light” is a short, bright blend of crossing pads, like a sliver of Quiet Music offered into the mix. On the longest track here, “The Future Flows From Here,” my mind is pulled toward Landmass for a point of reference–that mix of broad, yawning pads underscored by rolling analog constructs that lends it some energy and urgency. The rhythmic elements glimmer against the quiet backdrop as the play off each other. When they fade out, you’re left with the quiet parts and the focus moves to their sonic textures and the shift into the final track, another rich and vast cosmic space grounded with a rumbling low end.

Roach is releasing the three parts of this series several months apart. They’re not necessarily meant to be taken as directly connected works; rather, he sees the space between releases as time to immerse in the discs. One can flow right from Soul Tones into Future Flows, however, and it’s interesting to hear the change of timbre as this new piece heads into a zone that is distinctly its own. The time I’ve spent letting Future Flows wash over me has been well spent. A definite headphone listen that’s also nicely effective at low volume. Let it loop, and look forward for the next one.

Available from Steve Roach’s web site.

Here’s how you make a return after 10 years: Release an album that’s just massively processed looped guitar and vocals, recorded in a single long take, live and straight to analog tape, with no overdubs. If you can pull that off and make it intriguing, dense and immersive, you must be lovesliescrushing. Major players in the 90s dreampop scene, guitarist Scott Cortez and vocalist Melissa Arpin-Duimstra hadn’t recorded together in 10 years prior to creating Ghost Colored Halo; well, it has to be said that the chemistry didn’t suffer any. What comes out is a set of big, drone-based washes that vary from ethereal whispers to heavier, bass-loaded soundscapes. The former you’ll hear in the soft but solemn tones of “The Tiger Hunts Alone”; the latter is best heard on the almost grim “Darklit and Crow.” Check out “The Wounds That Won’t Heal” and “Ghost Colored” for classic dreampop, the way Cortez and Aprin-Duimstra stretch out a standard song format and immerse it under a veil of layered sound. “Ghost Colored” takes on a hypnotic aspect with a steady throb of bass. Throughout the disc, Arpin-Duimstra’s voice is ghostly and distant, folded into Cortez’s constantly shifting layers, making it all the more effective in those moments when it rises above and stands out. loveliescrushing’s sound is something that simply surrounds you, particularly in headphones, and takes you in so fully that when the last note on the last track cuts out, your response to the disconnect is almost physical. The remedy is to hit the play button again; and you will. Ghost Colored Halo is a strong and welcome return from an important name in the genre.

Available from Projekt.

Mythos is the duo of pianist Bob D’Eith and guitarist Paul Schmidt. Active in the New Age scene from the late 90s to the early 2000s, the two took a six-year break to pursue other careers. Now they’ve returned with Journey, ready to reintroduce listeners to their stories. The disc actually runs a bit too light in spots for my personal tastes, but many tracks still manage to catch my ear, and it’s definitely going to resonate with New Age listeners. The musicianship, for one, is excellent; just listen to Schmidt’s rich classical guitar style on the brief and beautiful “Nocturnal” or D’Eith’s romantic neoclassical piano on “Inner Peace.” Although that track is lightly flavored with string pads beneath, it is, in sensation, a lovely piano solo. Elsewhere, one hears touches of a world-music influence. It comes through in the Spanish guitar flourishes at the start of the title track, which  put me in mind of Acoustic Alchemy. Here again D’Eith’s piano becomes the focal point, paired with vocal pads and synth swirls for a piece that’s energetic, yet with a calming underflow. “Novaya Zemlya” has what I can only describe as a Baltic lilt, a balalaika-type instrument plucking out a melody in tribute to (yes, I Googled it) an island in the Russian arctic. It’s snappy, reminiscent of gypsy music, and catchy.

The music on Journey is something I’ve enjoyed more in a larger mix than as a straight-through listen, but that’s only due to my own predilections. It’s well-made music, nicely constructed and effectively layered with a narrative sense. Each piece is its own full story. As I said, if your tastes run to romantic, genre-right New Age, I think this Journey is one you need to take.

Available from Adagio Music.

Here’s a space where drowsy guitars lingering at the edge of post-rock meet underplayed electronic textures. The new collaboration between Yellow6 (aka Jon Attwood) and David Newlyn has a raw, improvised feel and an unhurried pace that makes its brief 38 minutes pass much more slowly. Attwood plays like a guy who’s idly noodling, each note only occurring to him the moment before it’s played–but it’s always the right note. Long pauses hang in the air, which Newlyn fills with gossamer-weight drones and pads. Adding to the atmosphere is that wherever Attwood’s part was recorded, the space has the wide, hollow resonance of an empty garage or dank basement, and the notes ring lightly off the walls. The two artists complement each other perfectly, with Attwood taking the somewhat gritty, roughened side of the equation and Newlyn the refined, rounded edges. Newlyn’s work never presumes to take the front or to draw attention to itself, and that makes it work all the more. It’s the waking-dream backdrop, the smoky haze curling around the room. A great, atmosphere-filled release well worth checking out.

Available from Sound in Silence.

Life Cycle, from composer John Puchiele, is a moving suite of pieces that blur the border between ambient and new classical music. In working the listener through his titular conceit, Puchiele switches sides as the journey goes forward, and the balance is perfect. The ambient work here is soft and drifting. “Thinking” nicely pings spacemusic’s standing tropes with its slow-moving choral pads, rich tenors and angelic sopranos trading phrases in a dreamy mix. “Climbing” is another cloud-motion flow, built on rise-and-fall pads underscored with nice bass tones. It moves easily into “N.D.E.,” an uplifting drift on softly repeating pads, a lulling wash of sound. Like all of Puchiele’s work, there’s a strong emotional core at work here; it’s not just about getting lost in the ambient music, it’s about taking on the feel that’s offered as well. On the more classical side, the two “Life Gets Busy” pieces take an interesting tack that will certainly conjure thoughts of Steve Reich. Strong minimalist strokes power both; “I” is a string piece, played in short, sharp notes with a bit of a sense of urgency. Late in the track, a high repeating phrase comes in counterpoint and the whole piece works its way up to a wonderful density of sound. On “II” Puchiele takes to the piano and lays out a rapid-fire barrage of notes that could be equal parts Reich and Philip Glass. Again, the base is minimalist but increases in complexity and intensity to reach a perfect expression of its title. “Foundations,” another piano piece, makes use of heavy notes and the potency of sustain to mix a melody with its own created harmonics. Puchiele alternately patiently waits out the sustain before proceeding or simply folds the next notes into it. For a short piece, it’s very memorable, and drives its point home nicely.

Life Cycle moves effortlessly from one track to the next, creating a sensible narrative as it goes. It’s calming in spots and potent in others, but always engaging. Puchiele’s playing is elegant, often because of its apparent simplicity. He’s taking set phrases, short, tight elements, and setting them gently in place. The result is deep–certainly as deep as you care to listen. A gorgeous work that should get much repeat play, and a contender to make “Best Of” lists across the genre this year.

Available from John Puchiele’s web site.