First, the big news.

After a lot of preparation, the Hypnagogue podcast was launched on June 3rd. The response has been very good. It's my intention to put up new 90-minute installments every two weeks, presenting the best in ambient and electronic music. I'm still trying to work out whether I want the podcast to have a review component, which would also make it different than most other ambient podcasts. But for right now I'm enjoying develop flowing playlists and pulling from the more than 1600 tracks at my disposal to piece together smooth rides that showcase the range of these genres. I'm also trying to get the hang of the whole podcast concept--bit rates, file size, RSS feeds... It's definitely different. I invite you to head over to hypnagoguepodcast.blogspot.com to give a listen and, if you like, subscribe. The podcast is also available on iTunes. And please let me know what you think--drop me an e-mail at hypnagogue@hotmail.com.

And now...an uncharacteristically large number of reviews.

Resonant Drift, The Call

Two things are different about the second Resonant Drift CD, The Call. The first is the addition of guitarist Gary Johnson, taking RD from being Bill Olien's solo secret identity to a working duo; the second was a move toward a quieter, more contemplative and (ahem) drifting feel than on his previous disk, Flow Mingled Down, with subtle tribal overtones in the mix as well. On this Steve Roach-mastered disk, Olien and Johnson craft layered soundscapes that conjure open spaces and shadow-painted lairs, the sacred places of our ancestors and in our minds. The Call moves through hushed, meditative drifts (“Understand Now,” “Deep Calls Unto Deep,” and “Answer”), dark explorations (“The Question” and “Breaking Free”) and intense rhythmic tracks like the superb “Invocation,” where a tribal beat punctuates long-drawn pads. And when Olien and Johnson meld these styles into a single track, it works very well. I find myself awakening, for lack of a better word, in the midst of “Beneath Strange Fire,” having been lulled by its calming, darkness-edged drifts. My mind responds to a gentle sense of expectancy that arises and I come up with the sound. A beat slips in under the sound for a few minutes before fading, taking the mind quietly downward once more. The Call works very nicely as a quiet, looped listen but will also hold up played at volume. I like this new direction Bill Olien has taken. In fact, I like it enough to suggest that The Call is a Hypnagogue Highly Recommended CD.

Available at the Resonant Drift web site.

How did adding another musician change Resonant Drift? Get a .

Mingo, Guide to Invisibility

On his latest disk, Guide to Invisibility, Mingo weaves a tapestry composed of texture and sensation. Dark drifts and repurposed slivers of sound form the backdrop of this immersive work. Largely beatless outside of the sinuous pulse of the title track, Guide slides along seamlessly and subconsciously, rich with feeling and well-crafted sound-images. Listening closely reveals Mingo’s usual depth of layering. There’s always a lot going on under the surface, each piece composed of stacked, complementing elements. The closing track, “In This Final Dawn,” is particularly deep, with moody drones and wobbling slashes of sound. Even when he keeps it simple, as in the mournful lament of the beautiful “Long for an End,” there’s much to listen to. My highlight track here is the aptly named “To Lose Yourself Completely”–a guided meditation through a realm of sharply edged shadow. (And another spot where beats make an small-yet-effective cameo appearance.) Better for you to experience it than for me to try to describe it further. In fact, you need to experience all of Guide, because after listening to it three times straight through non-stop and without once breaking the surface, it has definitely become a Hypnagogue Highly Recommended CD.

Available at CDBaby.

Visitor, Wreckage

Here’s a gamble that paid off. Visitor (aka Brian Pike) set certain conditions in his digital software and then . . . hit “go,” essentially. There are no instruments on Wreckage. No samples. Just . . . conditions, and an occasional bit of intervention. I’m not sure how many sets of conditions Pike went through before hitting on the three pieces that form the CD, but they were the right three. Wreckage is an intriguing exercise in minimalist drone, three individual faces of the same concept, long-form flows that evolve as smooth, gently undulating soundjourneys. Movement is kept to a minimum; non-change is the driving force, and what change does come slides in slowly. This is a superb disk for low-volume looping. Let it meld into the background, and see when and how it catches your attention–because it surely will.

Available at CDBaby.

Steve Rose, Twin Earth: Collected Ambient Works

I’ve kept Steve Rose’s suite of gently flowing guitar-based ambient in my iPod rotation for a couple of months now. It lives there quietly, making itself known now and then. While it’s not a groundbreaking or particularly innovative disk, it’s a solid handful of very listenable pieces, and especially pleasant mixed in on shuffle mode. Rose plays with a calm, sure hand. He knows his way around guitar effects–very little here sounds like a guitar until he intends it to–and structure. His pieces move slowly, chords like soft pastel marks on his aural canvases. It’s good background stuff that stands up to scrutiny and doesn’t wear thin easily. Rose can also switch it up, as evidenced by the tribally tinged “The Haunted,” with grim chords over a steady drum beat. Twin Earth is my first exposure to Steve Rose’s music, and I’m looking forward to more.

Available at CDBaby.

Steve Roach, Byron Metcalf & Mark Seelig, Nada Terma

I came into Nada Terma predisposed to liking it. It’s the latest in the tribal-sacred lineage that began with Mantram and continued with Wachuma’s Wave (with Roach more in the producer's seat), two disks I enjoy and keep in rotation on the iPod. I knew that I would find myself in another dreamstate drift of arcing synth pads and dark swirls of sound twisting with serpentine intention around breathy flute, all empowered by shamanic drumming. Nada Terma, I'm pleased to say, carries the concept in perfect form. The first 20 minutes alone would make a fine CD, as an ominous drone curls beneath Amaresh Mark Seelig's call-from-beyond flute and hushed phrases of overtone singing to create a lush, meditative environment. It opens mind and spirit to Metcalf's drumming, which enters after a gorgeously deep and rumbling bass overtone note parts the veil. For me, the drumming is a highlight, as it is on any Metcalf outing. Here, the practicing shaman's percussive elements—the thrum of a frame drum, the tinny click of clay pots, the insistent rattle of seed-pod shakers—become the ingredients required for a deeper, soul-level reaction to Nada Terma. The first few minutes of the fifth track, a bit of a drum solo for Metcalf, resonate spirit-deep. As in the disks that came before it, Nada Terma strives to create a sacred space for the listener, a secluded refuge for the mind and spirit. And it succeeds—beautifully.

Available at the Steve Roach web site.

Steve Roach, Landmass

Let me start with a disclaimer: This will be a thumb-on-the-scale review for me. Landmass is an excerpt from Steve Roach's post-Gatherings set in the WXPN studios during Chuck van Zyl's Star's End radio show in April 2007. I was lucky enough to have been invited to sit in on this set. It was two in the morning when Roach took off on this journey, having earlier transported an appreciative crowd during his 90-minute Gatherings concert. I had driven from Massachusetts to Philadelphia that morning and hadn't rested so needless to say, by two in the morning I wasn't entirely perky. Plunked down on a comfortable couch in the studio, and prepped for travel by a tasty local beer, I drifted in and out of sleep for the next hour and a half or so, slipping away to a calm passage and then waking surrounded by the constantly evolving sound and seeing Roach, still standing in the dim studio light, performing sonic alchemy behind his keyboards and laptops. This disk lets me recapture that, and also to hear more fully the genesis and movement of this live set.

With any luck, you'll remain awake while listening to Landmass because it's a great disk that's well worth the listen. Pulling from the sound-set and sensibilities of recent works such as Arc of Passion and Stream of Thought, Roach blends the tweak-and-rhythm groove of analog synth and sequencer lines with the horizon-spanning reach of sweeping drifts. "Transmigration" opens the disk with a metallic beat rebounding off a whirl of electronic twiddle and a steady drone and pads that spread and evaporate. Roach blends this into the darker feel of "Cerulean Blue Sky Over a Seared Desert Wasteland" (there's an evocative title for you!), perhaps my favorite section of the journey. There's a stronger sense of urgency here, courtesy of an intricately tangled thread of electro-burble and a tribal rhythm conjured from the circuits. Glassy chords rise up and fade like heat shimmer. Roach cross-fades these elements back and forth, lending each a few moments of prominence at a time. The beats melt away as Roach slides into “Monuments of Memory” and “Alluvial Plain,” the sounds spreading and softening to windswept washes. This is a gentle 20-minute stretch. Sonic callback is behind "Trancemigration" as the computer-perfect cadence of the sequencer drifts back in and picks up the energy level. Landmass departs quietly as Roach winds the proceedings down with the calming "Stars Begin." I'm not sure if this was the actual end of the set but if it was, it was four in the morning, I was just getting back to my hotel, Roach was on the radio, and I drifted off, quite pleased with the day's events, unaware that I'd have this superb chance to experience it all again. Get this disk for yourself; it's another great, highly listenable example of Roach's live mastery.

Available from the Steve Roach web site.

Parallel Worlds, Shade

Bakis Sirros returns with Shade, a new set of dark, uptempo visions that blend danceable grooves with shadowy atmospheres. Every track is washed through with sinister sonic subtext. Sirros’ music always has a strong narrative feel to it. It’s workable stuff that’s worth a listen, but I find it most palatable in a shuffle. Unfortunately, the Parallel Worlds sound can get a little “samey” for me at times. “Compulsive Mechanics” derails the similarity, sounding like a walking tour through a robot’s inner workings, but blended with a bit of a beat and underlying melody. The closer, “Ungreat Certainty” is another enjoyable departure where a thick, twanging bass note resonates over a basic drift. It’s lovely in an unusual way, elegantly simple and effective. Best track here is “Urgency,” shot through with drama, glitchy beats, sequencer-based suspense and they’re-after-me vocal samples. Three tempo/tone shifts across its 8-minute length give it a scene-by-scene feel.

Availalble through the Parallel Worlds web site.

Ministry of Inside Things, Ambient Elsewhere

At the heart of any CD from Ministry of Inside Things is the endless potential and possibility inherent in a live, largely improvised performance. Keyboardist Chuck van Zyl and guitarist Art Cohen have been at this long enough to develop that perfect wordless chemistry that lets them take off from an agreed-upon starting point and then simply explore, trusting that they're both headed to the same spot. The new disk Ambient Elsewhere is a double disk of live pieces that truly showcase not only this chemistry and trust, but also the duo's range. MoIT span styles from straightforward sequencer-and-guitar Berlin school work to dark, experimental explorations.The pleasure of listening comes from the comparisons and contrasts. They can work the slow-paced melody and dub-echo vocal samples of “Science Fiction” as well as the precise pulse and bounce of “Poor Alice.” Cohen’s smooth, reverb-laden guitar twists around itself and van Zyl’s floating keys in the easygoing “Dubzilla,” which then arcs into the challenging space created in “Markzilla,” where Cohen assails his strings to produce unearthly sounds as van Zyl rolls sinister sound-clouds behind it. Over the course of 13 tracks on the two disks, MoIT lays down a lot of superb tracks, and (again) the variation in approach, the occasional bits of risk-taking, and the practiced give-and-take make it an engaging joyride for Berlin School fans. With an offering of this size and the nature of what MoIT do, there’s an occasional sense of sameness, but it’s always rescued by that “where will we head now” improvisational instinct to keep the pieces’ identities separate. Favorite tracks include “Poor Alice,” with more of Cohen’s excellent and hypnotic dub work; the brain-soothing drift and wash of “Aphelion Season"; and the simple grace of "Icicle Falls."

Available from Synkronos Records.

Various, Odyssey of Rapture

I have to admit that I like this compilation more than I thought I would. Normally, listening to the whole goth-tinged/neo-classical sub-genre makes me want to don a waistcoat and an ironic top hat and claim that I tried absinthe and found it “amusing.” It’s very easy, in my opinion, to overdo this style and venture into the trying-too-hard realm. (Phanatos’ “Voyage” is a prime example here.) But something unexpected happened when I put this music into my shuffle rotation. Now and then I’d get one of those pleasant “Hmm, I wonder who this is?” moments. And lo, it was a track from Odyssey. Admittedly, there are tracks here that don’t appeal to me, pieces that make my hand hurry to the "next" button. But the standouts truly stand out. I like the Dvorak-ish feel of Aranis’ “Vala” for its gypsy-dance overtones and ecstatic violin; Hana’s “Hide” makes the most of the blend of Jeff Greinke’s slow-motion sensibilities and Anisa Romero’s sultry, soaring, goddess-like vocals; Brett Branning’s soft-handed piano work similarly bolsters the silky Kate Bush-influenced voice of Hannah Fury in Synthetic Dream Foundation’s “Trapeze”; MePhi’s “Crystal Night” is a gentle piano palate-cleanser of quiet beauty; Fiona Joy Hawkins’ “Contemplating” matches ethereal, wordless vocals with piano that brings to mind a cross between a more dramatic Liz Story and Tori Amos; and Pete Ardron and Samantha Ray’s “Interuterion 3” is a lush vocal-based track that closes out the disk like a deep, pleasant dream. What it comes down to, for me, is that I’ll either keep these favored tracks and nix the others, or just drop Odyssey into a shuffle here and there and hope for the best. Take a listen for yourself—maybe on shuffle—and see which tracks catch your ear.

Available from Mythical Records.

Ephemeral Mists, Moon Ritual

Brett Branning is a man of many musical identities. I first encountered him as Abandoned Toys and took note of his soft-handed piano work. He popped up again on the Mythical Records compilation Odyssey of Rapture (see above) in the guise of Synthetic Dream Foundation, with more of said piano paired with Hannah Fury’s astounding voice. Now he comes to me as Ephemeral Mists with the CD Moon Ritual, and this personality is forthrightly funk, club-ready and flavored with potent Middle Eastern and Far Eastern spices. It’s a very good recipe, and Branning’s smart enough to stir the pot. (Let’s see how far I can....beat this analogy, huh?) After two blood-stirring tracks (“Awakening Spirits” and “Eastern Channels”) he slows the tempo with the seductive sway of “Transcendental Visions.” Heady percussion drives it forward. “Gardens of Reflection” starts quietly and builds to a deep groove, grabbing an Enigma-style touch on the way. “Rain Sculpted Dreams” enters on the back of a snake under a sultry bass-and-drum veil—and then Branning’s piano strides in and it all takes off to a new plane. This track is flat-out sexy, if I say so myself. “Where the Wind is Born” breezes through softly before the title track closes out the disk in a full-blown Eastern groove. In any of his various incarnations, Branning continues to succeed and delight, and Moon Ritual is no exception. I look forward to more from him . . . whatever he may call himself next.

Available from Mythical Records.