A 14-minute online release, subdivided in five nameless tracks which McFall deemed unfit to other projects, opting for offering them separately. In all sincerity this is a perplexing work, though surely not dull (on the contrary, the third movement is splendid in its wrapping shroud of huge pulses and bottomless subsonic activity). Still, a couple of sections exist in which the composer seems to partially relinquish his individuality, hinting quite evidently at entities active in next-door areas. Most notably, the second chapter is too akin in spirit to William Basinski’s disintegrations for not resulting as a sort of respectful nod to the original, and certain periods contain the variety of underlying hiss-and-grit matter that we’ve often met in the music of Asher. What’s attractive – apart from the above mentioned track – is instead the use of the piano, a new colour for the Kansas artist to experiment with. On the whole not bad, but there’s something lacking of the McFall that we know, a man who’s been keeping us used to weightier statements.