Long loops of droning flute and electronic wind instrument blend with field recordings in a dreamy wash on Zero Ohm’s meditative 369. Zero Ohms (aka Richard Roberts) guides the listener through a spiritual voyage that begins with us grounded in the real world and ends with us in some blissful, relaxed elsewhere. Roberts accomplishes this in three mid-length tracks that never raise their voice above a loving whisper. The tracks are each titled with one number from the album title. “3” begins the journey and it’s here that the field recordings play their part. Nature sounds, gruff (and, it must be said, slightly jarring) voices calling out in some unidentifiable language, and the crisp crunch of leaves underfoot suggest that we are out walking somewhere. Point  being, we are aware, at this point, of the world around us. The world we will soon drift away from. Throughout this voyage, Roberts’ tones are consistently warm, enveloping, and organic. To call them drones does them a slight disservice; it is more of a slow current, shifting gracefully but not imperceptibly, and in constant motion. It is in very short order that we give ourselves over to the sound. On “6,” the field recordings fade back, and Roberts surrounds the listener with low, shadowy sounds that still maintain warmth. He stretches them out to a rise-and-fall that brings our breathing in line, and this is where we leave the concrete world behind. The slow weave of sounds is mesmerizing. This track alone is reason enough to hear this release. “9,” the closer and the shortest track at just over 10 minutes, brightens considerably from its predecessor right from the start. It’s as though we’ve passed through a space between the concrete and the spiritual, and here we are, in some indefinable place beyond. This track contains a signature Zero Ohms sound, a texture that for lack of a better term sounds like a brief throatiness, a grounding solidity amidst the softer, ethereal sighs.

369 is a superb piece of work from Zero Ohms. While I do have my minor issues with the disruptive aspect of the voices in the field recordings, the effect very fades as the music deepens and leaves the solid world behind. It’s an artistic choice and, in the long run and looking at the effect of the release overall, it works. This release will take you very deep, and it loops nicely for maximum immersion.

Available from Relaxed Machinery.

Where shall we file this one? Under trip-hop? Could do that. It’s got the beats and breaks and the nice jazzy undertones. Under plunderphonics? Yeah, sure, that’s an option. Vocal drop-ins, lifted samples, that stitched-together feel that somehow manages to work its way into rhythms that hit and stick. Maybe we just file it under “better than I thought it would be” or “grew on me quickly.” Definitely that. The bi-coastal duo of New York’s Eddie Palmer and San Diego’s Brett Zehner lay down something quite interesting on Hunting a Schizophrenic Wolf, a confluence of styles that caught me a bit off-guard at first. Coming in, the release would seem to be the sort of loop-laden offering we’ve heard before. Palmer and Zehner pull out and lace together bursts of swing-band brass and some fairly standard breakbeats. But then they’ll freeze a moment within a loop, isolate a tone and leave its resonance hanging out there in a hypnotic wash. Catch it pulsing along toward the end of “Disembodied Poetics” or the way layered moments float in static, nudged by a vocal drop-in, at the end of “Bank of America.” There you were, tapping along to a cool lifted rhythm and mutated jazz licks, and then you realize you’ve gotten lost in a smooth drone. When the duo bring the beats back in or restart the samples, it’s a gentle re-folding of the space and the ride continues sensibly along. It’s never jarring. That, perhaps, is what surprised me most about Hunting A Schizophrenic Wolf; for all of its disparate elements and its jigsaw construction, it’s a pretty seamless ride. It makes sense in a way I didn’t expect it to, and it didn’t wear out its welcome on repeat plays. If anything, I kept paying more attention to what Palmer and Zehner were tossing at me. Is it a bit familiar? Well, yes. You’ve heard this stuff before. But within that familiarity there is plenty of innovation and interest that freshen things up and make this release one worth checking into.

Available from Daddytank.

Although Day Has Ended is a split release between artists Aaron Martin and Christoph Berg, the two halves flow so seamlessly together that it seems a single cohesive thing. Both artists fall under the modern composition category, their work in both halves of this release carrying an intimate chamber music feel. Rich strings and melancholic piano draw vivid sonic images as the duo describe the course of a day–a theme that, in the long run, is secondary to the introspective beauty of these eight songs. Martin takes the first four pieces, with a focus on strings, from the first shiny guitar notes of “Slow Wake” to the crisp, unexpected twang of banjo in “Burl.” A noted cellist, Martin works those sonorous strings into the mix as well, a steady dramatic voice underscoring the complex interweaving of sounds going on around it. Martin takes another turn in using choral voices to open “Comfort of Shadow.” These give way to a deep, resonant bass drone on cello. Higher strings slowly work into the flow, bringing some potent emotion with them. Berg’s section begins quietly with “Pillows,” carrying the raspy, organic quality of Martin’s bow-work but infusing it with a more spread-out sparseness. “Today has Been Alright” manages, in its slowness and repeated phrasing, to capture a sort of hesitant musical shrug of acceptance; its edge of sadness is tempered by its brighter tone. Overall, Berg’s four pieces are less angular, more couched in quiet than Martin’s. The emotional level is certainly equal, but the approach, perhaps in trying to convey the sense of the latter half of the day, feels less sharp. “Coda” brings the release to a lovely close, offering in its structure a hint of a post-rock ballad. It sways just slightly, lush strings making a floaty bed for piano. There’s also an underscored air of optimism, perhaps the sense that this day was a bit more than alright after all and tomorrow’s coming.

Day Has Ended is a quick hit, just over half an hour, but it lands with considerable emotional force. Both composers speak in confident voices through their music and the fact that the release glides so easily from one artist to the next plays up their simpatico approaches. The intimacy and rich organic feel of the compositions, sometimes nicely raw in spots courtesy of the strings, has had me coming gladly back for repeat listens. This is a wonderful end-of-day listen (go figure) and a release you must hear.

Available from Dronarivm.

In May 2013, two days after laying down a mind-bending set at the AmbiCon concert, Steve Roach brought a compressed version of his Timeroom studio into the intimate confines of the SomaFM.com offices and proceeded to knock out a two-hour voyage that was captured on the double-disc release Live Transmisson. Like many of Roach’s live sets, this one soars through a variety of soundscape styles, arcing from glittering space-pads to the deep, smoky caverns of the primal mind and on into pulsing analog equations. It’s not a “Best Of” kind of thing, it’s a revisiting of the worlds Roach has already electronically terraformed. What’s of real note here is the setting; this is a full-on, deep-immersion, no-release-until-it’s-over set, crafted in a minimal space. There’s a great picture of this event where you can see an analog synth propped up on a couch behind Roach. I know that a lot of electronic musicians make do with minimal gear, but the fact that Roach does so here without any sense of anything being missing or lacking, without it feeling non- or un-Roachian, makes it a great listen for me. Being the tribal ambient lover that I am, I go particularly deep during the stretch that starts with the bass-heavy rumbles of “Zone of Drones” and unfolds gorgeously into “Looking for Safety” from Dreamtime Return. That’s a nice nod to long-time listeners. From there he heads back toward the shadows with “Reflecting Chamber” from Light Fantastic, making use of samples of the fujara, a large Slovakian flute, from long-time collaborator Dirk Serries. Drum loops and long, spiraling pads fill out the familiar tribal feel. The 32-minute groove “Vortex Immersion” kicks off the second disc and ushers us into that gurgling, hands-on-knobs analog space Roach has been spending time in since Possible Planet. Here we shift from tribal rhythms to more complex grooves, the beats curling up out of misty constructs. “Westwind,” from Proof Positive, kicks that into overdrive, giving us that early-Roach flavor of hyperactive sequencers rapping over pads and electronic twiddle. The voyage closes with a relatively new piece, “Today,” a cleansing drift–as is standard with a Roach live set–to bring us gently back to our wakened state. Your breathing will come in line with Roach’s rise-and-fall structures.

Perhaps needless to say, this voyage runs deep. The blend of older tracks, recreated live in the moment, and fresh takes offers a panoramic look at who Roach is, musically, without feeling like he’s doing fan service. Any Roach live voyage is subject to mid-course changes and tweaks, so the familiarity also comes with an edge. Again, for me it’s the matter of a sizable sound and an engaging voyage carved out in a “this is where we are, this is what you get” setting that makes this memorable. This is one to leave looping.

Available from Projekt.

There are spots on Julian Ray’s Mysterious Garden where I felt like I was listening to an old radio show and the announcer was about to tell me that this is what music will sound like…in the future! As composer Yury Shumakov lays out his 10-track voyage, the ride slogs through some tunes that come off sounding a little overly dated, but several standout pieces go a long way toward making up for them. The work here sits between melodic electronica, skewed toward the New Age side of the equation, and lilting space music. He hits it squarely on “In Mist of Immersion,” where floating drones cross under percolating electronic rhythms and a repeating arpeggio acts like a chorus. Shumakov laces in some jazzy keyboard riffs for an extra touch of cool. “Pool of Eternal Life” is another notable track, managing to (just barely) skirt the edge of nostalgia without getting too syrupy. Piano twinkles in a repeating phrase over spacey pads and a catchy, understated hand-percussion beat. Again, you may catch a light (and welcome) smooth-jazz feel. I like the laid-back, easy-listening feel of “Two Souls,” even though it–again–almost lays on too much sweetness for my tastes. And tell you don’t hear just a little lift from the old Seals & Crofts tune “Summer Breeze” hiding in here.

With the exception of those few tracks that just lay a little heavily on saccharine and standards for my tastes, I’ve enjoyed hearing Mysterious Garden. I like it better mixed into a shuffle than as a listen on its own, but Shumakov’s compositions are well crafted. This one will sit better with New Age fans, but is worth a listen across the board.

Available from Julian Ray’s website.

You want happy? Ricky Kej has happy. On his feel-good New Age offering, Shanti Orchestra, the Bollywood composer and creator of the Kamasutra Lounge series meshes native Indian music with laid-back club beats and far-reaching world-music influences. The intent is to massage your soul into a state of bliss–which, if your tastes run to very light New Age, it probably will. For me, Shanti Orchestra starts strong and interesting but in the long run contains a little too much sugar for my liking. Kej grabs me at the start with “Shanti, Pt 1” and “Forever,” snaring me with the exotic flavors of saarangi and the duclimer-like santur (thank you, liner notes) on the first, short track and then the dual siren’s call of seductive sitar and soaring bansuri flute from Praveen Godkhindi on the second. Kej’s lounge-style beats and backgrounds make it all float beautifully, particularly when joined with Alexis D’Souza’s chanting vocals. So the start is very good; the world feel, the cool grooves, the fact that it avoids being, for lack of a better term, too New Agey. From there, however, for me the disc becomes something of a jump-and-skip affair. Some tracks are simply too light and airy for me. It hits me first on “Blue,” and I get it again on the piano-and-flute pastorale of “Longing.” I can see where some listeners might quite enjoy this; it’s well made, and hits all the right soothing notes. Me, I prefer Kej’s music mixed in with other albums. When a track comes up in the course of a shuffled listen to my library, I find myself paying attention. The depth of global instrumentation is excellent. I hear Gaelic pipes (uillean?) in “Longing” and bagpipes (or their like) in “Exotic Dreams.” That track is the most rock-solid piece for me here. The pipes give way to plucked strings and flute and an absolutely catchy house beat, and then Kej sweetens the pot with vocals that recall traditional Qawwali singing. I’ll listen to this souful mix all day. Shame that it’s just three and a half minutes long. “Black and White” packs a tasty jazz edge and, just to hook me more, throws in the growl of a didgeridoo. If there was more of this and less of the superlight stuff, Shanti Orchestra would sit better with me. New Age listeners will find a lot to like here, and it’s a must-hear for fans of Eastern-influenced music. Definitely worth checking out.

Available from Ricky Kej’s web site. 

At times while listening to Frore’s tribal-ambient release, Shadowlands, I could not shake the feeling that I was hearing some long-lost Steve Roach work. But Frore (aka Paul Casper) should take that as the compliment it is meant to be. Shadowlands runs as deep as any of Roach’s techno-shamanic forays with its mix of drums, shakers, drones, flute and more. Tribal is my ambient of choice, and this disc pulls me immediately into the kind of space I love–pulsing, twilight-shaded, and primal. There may be no escaping the Roach comparison, particularly when you’re enmeshed in the midst of the tellingly titled “A Fevered Sleep” (bravo, Paul!), but set that aside and just let this good medicine wash over you. Casper’s atmospheres run deep throughout the five offerings here, and he shows a strong hand at blending electronic and acoustic. Flutes whisper over classic pads as “Sky Glow” begins the voyage, matched with varied percussion. I like the contrast between the simple cloud-drift pads and the complex weave of the drums and shakers. It’s textbook tribal and a great way to open. “Terra Pulse” and the previously noted “A Fevered Sleep” pull us into that familiar territory; “Terra Pulse” is a calm and fluid thing built on shifting, sliding pads that lull the listener before a fresh rhythm insinuates itself into this misty space. In here, also, you’ll hear Casper’s expert attention to the spatial aspects of ambient, carving out a distinctly dimensional sound–to my ears (or head), it feels like a wide, round place with a lot of craggy spots to snag light echoes. “First Ray of Light” hovers in space music territory, with vocal pads and the occasional crystalline chime tracing a cleansing, meditative through-line leading to the final track. This is a nice move by Casper, taking us out of the tribal space to float after the medicine has taken hold. (Also something of a Roach hallmark.) It ups the effect of the first shadowy tones of “A Name on the Wind.” The twang of strings come as a wake up call as Casper begins to layer sounds over windy drones. Brief passages on flute accent passing moments, and the piece overall has a wonderfully lonely sensibility about it.

I have let Shadowlands loop for several hours at a time. It’s a great background piece, but it really shines in a focused listen. Frore clearly has the tribal-ambient equation locked, and as always his music rings with a deep and personal honesty. Yes, you will hear the spirit of Steve Roach lurking behind the pads and drones on Shadowlands; that just means Frore knows enough to take a cue from a master, then make the work his own.

Available from Relaxed Machinery.

Once-dark artist Mingo continues his foray into a lighter, New Age-focused space on his new release, and it’s obvious from the first moments that he’s quite comfortable here. World flavors come through courtesy of a variety of strings, lilting flute, and blends of percussion. The grooves are laid-back and pleasant, and Mingo mixes in just the right amount of quieter ambient spaces to make the mix intriguing. “The Beach House” shows off the signature blend at play here, the aforementioned strings and flute laying down a clean, familiar melodic layer over a 1-2-3, bass-bass-snare beat and understated pads. Soothing, yet you’ll find yourself tapping your toes along with that simple rhythm. Mingo hits his stride for me in the pairing of “Rays Through the Mist” and “Terra Globa.” Here, a raga feel takes hold, spicing the air with Middle Eastern influences. Hand percussion and sharp, plucked strings lead the way as a bass drone wends hypnotically along. At just four minutes in length, “Rays…” leaves me wanting more, but it also dovetails well with “Terra Globa.” I actually catch myself whistling along with that track’s repeating hook, and I get fully caught up in the twang of a sampled oud as the piece morphs into an ecstatic folk dance. The title track is a beautiful work, a deceptively simple pairing of twinkling keyboard runs over a blend of ambient pads–a nice reminder of the artist’s past work, folded into the new. There’s a similar feel in “Equilibrium Point,” where clean, crystalline notes reminiscent of Steven Halpern’s chakra-cleansing excursions ring out in patient runs over long strings. Close your eyes and focus your breath while this one plays. Another great release from Mingo, a fresh step in this latest part of his musical journey.

Available from Mingo’s web site.

Austin-based duo FiRES WERE SHOT run acoustic guitars through effects and looping stations to create a pleasingly hypnotic blend of warm organic sounds and deeply resonant drones on Pieces of the White Sun. John Wilkins and Clay Walton open this 11-track affair with the hum and buzz of gear turning on, and then start strumming, picking and layering. Listening to this release is a little like playing an early Windham Hill album having just enjoyed a bit of your controlled substance of choice. That familiar warm, folksy feel runs through everything, melodic, laid-back and intimate. Take that and lace it with the mind-salving effect of the repeating, near-minimalist loops and the long-held drone structures that run underneath it all, and you’ve got something that can make you simply lose track of time. Close listening is a must, as Wilkins and Walton pay  a lot of attention to the use of harmonics and resonance as ways to quietly fill a moment, and also to capture as drone elements. There’s a lot to dig into here. I like the almost clockwork cadence of “Scattered in the River,” and the way the duo chop up the sound as the piece glides to a close. There’s some smooth slide guitar howling gracefully against a fast-picked counter-melody on “In the Heavens Meadow,” and it comes off as sweetly soulful. “McElligot’s Pool” dives deep into the repetition and ups the ante with a gritty, raw edge and edge-of-feedback wails. Again, what really works here is that the honest, folk-music tone, rich in its simplicity, anchors the thing and lets the two explore the building sound. As much good as I have to say about this release, I have to add that FiRES WERE SHOT almost lost me with the abrupt ending of the first track, “Before That Time.” While I’ve come to understand it a little better as an artistic choice after repeat listens, it still doesn’t work for me. And it’s not just that it sounds like someone hit a button too soon and made a rough edit, it’s that–perhaps in my opinion only–the piece deserved to come to a better close. Sometimes you can cut a piece off in mid-statement like this and it’s fine. They do it well on “Long Match,” which is a pretty straightforward song that gets some great texture from what sounds to these ears like augmented/distorted vocals. When this piece hits its drop-out, it throws the listener into a hushed space where the drones continue to wash back and forth, carrying the echo of the melody until it all fades down. It works.  In the case of “Before That Time,” though, the sudden stop just amplifies the fact that there was more to be said, and it would have been worth hearing.

Pieces of the White Sun is a great thing to dive into, headphones-first. Wilkins and Walton exhibit complete control over their loops and layers, and play up the acoustic side. It’s got charm, and it’s got that nice experimental edge. Worth discovering.

Available at Bandcamp.

Aaron Static’s background as a DJ definitely shines through on his new release, Redemption. In laying out the eleven tracks here, he charts a course that takes us from “exotica electronica” chillout to dubstep influences and glitch through short, mostly spoken word tracks that carry a theme through the mix. There is a lot of familiarity to the flow, but it’s so slick and hook-packed and well put-together, that’s hardly a bother. I defy you to not groove openly to”Tipping Point.” It’s a high-energy, fast-paced techno tune driven forward on a thumping drum line and iced over with a cool, soulful vocal sample to sweeten the pot. It packs a bit of an 80s electropop feel, which I love.  “Intrepid Journey” opens as a soothing space ballad with piano as its base, then laces in dubstep-style wub wubs to give it a deeper funk. The blend of styles here is excellent, and it’s got a potent emotional core that grows as it moves forward. “Laura’s Song” offers up a spacey chillout vibe with intricate glitch percussion weaving a complex backdrop. While Redemption doesn’t go out of its way to do anything overly new, what Aaron Static does here is done impeccably well. The release holds your attention, and the familiar feels just anchor the album rather than coming off as being imitative. This one needs to be turned up when played. Dive in and dig it.

Available from Soundcloud.