My feelings run a bit lukewarm when it comes to Vlad Nedelin’s Postante, a workable mix of noise over ambient structures. But it’s not an album I’ve enjoyed delving into deeply.  As a rule, the less noisy and subtler, the better I like it. “Nothing Disappears” stalks along on a blend of high chords and slow melody, and lacks any noticeable noise element. It’s got a bit of a spy movie vibe to it, and a nice air of drama and mystery. There’s a story at play in “Yet to Be Told,” and it plays out with a sort of old-school sensibility. A militaristic drum line (Nedelin is a jazz drummer) snaps along in the background, and the tempo is mechanical and strident. It took a couple of listens to warm up to the atmospheric sparseness of “An Isle,” but this strange mash of wind, perhaps very distant waves, and the noises of someone moving through a space—all this accompanied by a very dialed-back, droning mix of pads—becomes quite attention-getting. At the least, it forms a strong sense of scene, a field recording with a light dusting of music. It pushes us out into “Through the Tunnel,” which is again fairly minimal, but packed with velocity. Nedelin lays in robotic analog synth sounds and bends the piece off in sort of a science-fiction direction. The click and clatter of the percussion drives this one forward. “Temporary Residence” hearkens back to the mysterious tones of “Nothing Disappears,” with a rhythm that bounces along over eerie vocal pads. It does get slightly repetitious, but, again, moves away from the noisier side of things. I sometimes call out pieces like this for not giving themselves enough time to develop, but this one could have said its piece more briefly. (And the thematic sounds at the end quite simply don’t help.)

Postante does offer up some decent atmospheres, but relies too heavily on the noise for my taste. The pieces are brief enough that the problem spots pass quickly. While this one is not entirely for me, those with more experimental tastes will probably find more to dig into.

Available from CD Baby.