The Wind That Had Not Touched Land represents a brief flash in time. It may be that the five musicians who make up Annie A never play together in this form again, so the document that we have here is a record of a fleeting moment.
Annie A is a collaboration between French musician, writer and artist Félicia Atkinson, poet Christina Petrie, London-based duo Jack Rollo and Elaine Tierney (better known as Time is Away), and New Zealand/Aotearoa songwriter Maxine Funke. The far-flung geographical origins of the group is offset by a certain closeness, an intimacy that feels almost miraculous.
Opening track, ‘First the Crocus’, is a minimal, mantra-like meditation awash with background clatter and hiss. Its two-word refrain…
Category: ambient
In 2025, it might be easy to forget that the idea of taking mind-expanding substances while listening atmospheric music was once considered to be radical and illicit. Over the course of the last few years, both supervised psychedelic exploration and ambient music have gradually inched their way towards the mainstream, but tripping out to wonky albums wasn’t always such a societally accepted activity. In the 1970s, a group of psychotherapists developed a listening routine called the Cosmic-Astral program specifically designed to be played while their patients took LSD. Consisting of classical compositions from Richard Strauss, Alexander Scriabin, and Gustav Holst, the aural curriculum was quickly pulled from shelves due to its questionable legal implications. On Cosmic-Astral…
The life and work of pioneering poet and director Pier Paolo Pasolini casts a long shadow over this record from French artist Karen Jebane, also known as Golem Mecanique. The album’s title, which translates as “we are all in danger”, is derived from the final interview Pasolini gave before his still-unsolved murder in 1975, and a sense of threat pervades the record from start to finish. This is a dense, foreboding album, its scale and texture as unforgiving as a vast, broiling body of water. But there is beauty here.
Much of that beauty is provided by Jebane’s trademark drone box, a mournful, swelling instrument that flows beneath the entire record like an underground stream. Given that the LP is being released by Stephen O’Malley’s label…
Listening to The Foel Tower feels like tuning a weathered old radio – you’ll be rewarded for applying patience and concentration.
On this second album, experimental Bristol four-piece Quade make a virtue of the slow build; Barney Matthews’ bassy, cryptic vocals are buried beneath shivering cymbals, gut-rumbling bass and blasts of static, with most of the lyricism left to multi-instrumentalist Tom Connolly’s twisting, agonised, beatific violin.
Like their label mates Moin who describe themselves as “post-whatever”, Quade discard the classic band format for a more organic, intuitive approach. Canada Geese starts with a simple, strummed acoustic guitar and close-quarters detail: distant birdsong, the soft rattle of what..
Kara-Lis Coverdale often focuses her mesmerizing compositions on looped vocals or organs, creating transformative, hypnotic arrangements. She issued a few recordings during the 2010s, then focused on performances and installations, in addition to collaborating with Tim Hecker, Floating Points, Actress, Lyra Pramuk, and many others. From Where You Came is her first major release since 2017’s Grafts, and it’s easily her most ambitious and expansive work to date, having been written and recorded in multiple countries, and incorporating a greater array of orchestral and electronic instrumentation. Vocals are still central to Coverdale’s compositions, with ethereal opener “Eternity” being a gentle, honest reflection on beauty. “The Placid Illusion” begins…
On her fourth album, the ambient folk artist Satomimagae imagines a world without names, lines, or borders — anything that could distinguish one thing from an absolute whole. What we might call “leaves” on “trees” here are simply shades upon shades. Every difference is negated. Listening to it feels like waking up from anesthetic, an experience in which there is no delineation between self and other, inner and outer.
Taba, the album’s title, is a Japanese term for bundling and sheafing, gathering material together. True to its name, the album sounds as though Satomimagae has extracted all the world’s resources and fed them into a juicer on quiet mode. Other than the rich open voicings of her guitar — the only distinguishable instrument…
Voices on Eli Keszler’s latest self-titled record are rarely plainspoken. It begins with a gasp, and gives way to words whispered, uttered and beamed from another place.
The composer and percussionist doesn’t so much centre vocals on this album – whether they’re his own, his collaborators’, or of undefined origin – as he does allow them to mill about and live in the gaps in these songs’ walls. That can be a comfort and a jump scare.
The album is unmistakably indebted to the imagination and soundscapes of David Lynch and Angelo Badalamenti. The sultry Sofie Royer-sung numbers open the curtain to the red room of Twin Peaks, while the jittery, noirish avant-jazz elsewhere conjures the unseen extended lineup…
Scott Morgan, the Vancouver electronic music artist who works under the name loscil, leads a quiet life; the kind of patient, dedicated figure who desires neither cultural omnipresence nor promotional shortcuts, but rather a respectable long game played on fields that tend toward the timeless: graceful ambience, chamber drone, dub-inflected electronics. And while there’s plenty of change across his catalogue, Morgan’s thumbprint has remained distinct.
You can usually tell a loscil production through several compositional and production tics: the thickness of the textures; deft layering and arrangement that affords each sound its own presence in the field; juxtaposition that never feels awkward or ungainly; careful balance of…
