Take a post-rock framework, stretch it lazily across time, then wash it over with a hissing, soft wall of noise. This is what you get on Secret Pyramid’s lush and thoughtful Movements of Night. Darkly dreamy and packing a certain opioid quality in its mesmerizing flows, this release finds an engaging middle ground where recognizable beats and and identifable melodic structures meet amorphous, mind-displacing atmospheres and everything just gels perfectly. Much of the work here sounds based in guitar drones. Right out of the gates, “A Descent” peels off slowly strummed chord phrases and spirals them away into a rising drone. A ghostly vocal line half-swiped from dreampop deepens the feeling. Keys figure into the mix as well; listen to the dirge-like, repetitive phrasing at the core of “Move Through Night,” sending its own resonance off into the gloom to build on it. “Escape (Fade Out)” lays down almost lounge-like electric piano chords–but if this is lounge, it’s where the lotus-eaters hang out, vaguely remembering and deep in their glossy dreams. Then there’s “Closer,” a big, ambient-style piece that achieves a sort of slow-motion minimalism courtesy of a phrase that states and restates itself in thickening sonic greys. It’s nicely dovetailed into the brighter space defined in “To Forget.” I like the dark/light juxtaposition of these two works. The sound on Movements of Night is very textured, mostly coarsened up with light distortion or touches of static. It manifests in an edge-of-white-noise mist that aids the ongoing, gentle subjugation of your mind as you listen. You’re nudged into introspection, and you’ll gladly go along with it. Musician Amir Abbey packs a lot of feeling into these short works, and each passing moment serves to enhance and amplify the hypnotic effect. His use of slow repetition plays up a certain air of stasis, of moments half-frozen for closer examination. Headphones on and away you go. An excellent release from Secret Pyramid.

Available from Students of Decay.