I have said it before, but it bears repeating: Roy Mattson is an ambient artist you need to be listening to, and Endless River is a very good place to start. Hovering quietly between classic ambient and spacemusic, this release shows several facets in its 90-minute run time, all of them engaging and well-executed. The sparkly, chipset-influenced tones bouncing around the first track, “Setting Out,” for example, are only distantly related to the still, wind-nudged chimes of “Confluence,” and they both come from a different place than the very atmospheric, almost dark environs of “Down River.” This latter track borders on creepy in spots, courtesy of the creaking and moaning of old boards and a growling bass drone. I am reminded of the excellent album Sextant by Brannan Lane and Ashera. “Water Maze” is a standout track; bright tones with a hint of shimmer are backed with perfectly underplayed water effects and twists of sound with an analog-synth feel. All of this plays out across long pads dialed well into the backdrop. It’s a nice, calming ride. Its kindred spirit comes later on “Navigating the Flow.” A charming sequencer line adds a touch of rhythm, the water sounds feature more prominently without being intrusive, and Mattson brings in lush flute melodies to make it all soar. Worth noting that Mattson has loaded Endless River with organic sounds—bamboo flutes, shakers, stones, seed pods, conch shell trumpet, and more—but it’s typically laced in very subtly. On “Stone Clouds” the organics get their place up front, but again, it’s done with a restrained hand and the effect is pretty much perfect.

Mattson is a new name in the ambient realm. He only began releasing music, as far as I can tell, about a year ago. That means that right now is a great time to start listening to him. With Endless River I hear an artist who has paid close attention to the masters of the craft who’ve inspired him but who is also ready to chart his own sonic course. Get on board now.

Available from Bandcamp.

If you are not familiar with the term “ambient chamber music,” let this be album your primer. Acoustic instruments, an up-close and intimate feel, airy construction, potent emotion and unobtrusive electronic treatments. All of it is here on Inside Life, the latest from Bruno Sanfilippo. Over the last several years, Sanfilippo has been nudging himself in this direction, obtaining a bit of distance from his ambient/electronic background and showcasing himself as a masterful pianist and contemporary composer. Through his Piano Textures series and on his last release, the amazing ClarOscuro, he has cemented his reputation in this space. What makes Inside Life so very effective is its apparent simplicity. All tracks feature just Sanfilippo on piano and Julian Kancepolski on cello. Sanfilippo handles electronic augmentation, and does so with a very light hand. Underneath the dramatic and moving duet of “Freezing Point,” he adds a crackling band of static. It’s barely there, somewhere between a distant sound of sleet and the comfortably familiar scratch of old vinyl. It only truly makes itself known in the pauses. On “Camille,” a tribute to composer Camille Saint-Saens, the background is gently haunted by Mariel Aguilar singing a waking-dream aria. It is the sound of memory, or perhaps, in this instance, of the residual influence of its subject. Listen carefully to take in a long drone with the feel of a church organ working through the piece. On this track, too, there is a metallic rattling–again, very subtle–that almost makes this feel like a piece for prepared piano. Like there’s something in the belly, which is probably not the case, but the effect is intriguing. He is alone on “The Place Where Dying Crows,” a piece filled with a sort of stilted cadence and uneasy edge. Long pauses filled with resonance, odd and mildly startling thumps, the sense of a mind trying to work something through–the idea that something is not quite right comes not just from the title, but it permeates the atmosphere on this track. A buzzing drone underscores it, and Sanfilippo ends it with three discordant notes. A very affecting piece. Kancepolski’s support is invaluable here, both for its aching beauty and for heightening the feel of this being a personal performance by an intimate duo. His work on “Camille” is particularly perfect, and he lends soaring lines and a downplayed, repeating bass foundation of pizzicato notes on the title track.

This is a seamless album, with no distinct line between acoustic and organic. It is just a singular, incredible whole, flawlessly balanced and soul-piercingly beautiful. Listen with the lights down low and let it just wash over you. Magnificent.

Available from ad21 Music.

Listening to Elusive Metaphor feels a bit like being told a secret, or like getting a clandestine glimpse at some sort of shadowy ritual. Alio Die (aka Stefano Musso) and Parallel Worlds (aka Bakis Sirros) combine their respective approaches, melding long, deep drones with crackling, technical analog electronics in this hour-long voyage. Balance plays a vital role here. Each composer distinctly steps forward in spots, but never completely owns the moment. Sirros’ work powers “The Dispersed Expectance,” filling your ears with buzzes, hisses, chirps and warbles. On “Roundabout Mirages,” he lays in round metallic tones in a rhythmic clatter. In both cases, his sounds are bolstered from below by Musso’s soft ambient beds. Musso leads the way on the opening track, “Unspoken Shapes,” a piece that grabs a deeper sense of mystery and the aforementioned ritual thanks to prayer-like vocals from India Czajkowska. As this release takes the listener deeper, we hit upon the long stretch of “Dissolved Heaven” and “Fragile Imagery.” For me, this is absolutely the sweet spot of Elusive Metaphor. In Musso’s drones on “Dissolved Heaven” I hear echoes of Steve Roach’s Early Man, but lighter on the tribalism. Field recordings play out in the backdrop, the gentlest taps of percussion mark time, and there is a wonderful slow-motion sensibility to it all. Even without the aural reference to one of my favorite ambient albums of all time, I’d still find this to be a splendid, relaxing piece. Toward the end the harmonies edge lightly toward dissonance, or at least an edgier tone. It’s a nice dynamic that works especially well as the sounds dwindle down and give way to the warm cocoon at the beginning of “Fragile Imagery.” This classic ambient piece simply sighs its way along, content to help you relax.

I was tempted to go back and re-listen to Circo Divino, the first collaboration between these artists, to compare it to this. I was quite taken with that first album, but I think any sort of comparison would do a disservice to this one. It certainly stands on its own and represents a new step in the direction Sirros and Musso are taking their partnership. It’s not a giant step, but it certainly moves them toward a less rhythmic space. (I re-read my review.) Elusive Metaphor is deep and lush, showing a fine confluence of light and shadow. From acoustic sources to analog synths, everything comes together smoothly. This is a must-loop album, and please have your headphones on to take in all the small, integral sounds. An excellent offering from Alio Die and Parallel Worlds.

Available from Hic Sunt Leones.