In Man From Deep River, BJ Nilsen and Stilluppsteypa throw a number of winning psychoacoustic cards on different perceptive tables. Preliminary African echoes introduce an underground universe in which sinister hallucinations uncoil. Voices of children at play equalized to the extreme are heard as a cross of screaming seagulls and a laughing ghost, the whole layered upon a texture imbued of blurred spells and effectively pervaded by a stoned anxiety. A sense of irony is not lost, but it’s just a minor component that comes and goes from the mix. Self-restraint and precariousness are only two of the various factors that render this music unequivocally superior to a simple amalgamation of backgrounds, a typical trick of many imitators in search of easy praises. A methodical anticipation of the architectural necessity lies at the basis of important changes of scenario; the beauty of certain muffled drones is an aural sight to behold, not to mention the fertility of the frequency fields. Natural reverberations and loops are finely intertwined, and the unsettling quality of casually captured conversational snippets amidst ineffable oscillations is also a fact. This is the place where NWW and the Kosmische Kouriers meet to reflect about the arcane aspects of sound collage, a means to go astray in rational nonexistence.