Chance Reconstruction, this reviewer’s initial meeting with Baltimore’s Ostermeier, sounds like a collection of pieces played by an introverted kid trying to extract moderately autistic melodic repetition from the remnants of his toys, previously destroyed by some bad-mannered thug. At the basis of the whole lies the piano, emitting undemanding linear snippets halfway through Tim Story, Alva Noto & Sakamoto after a tornado and the first music lessons of the aforementioned child. Peripherally, one detects the inevitable presence of click-rustle-and-pop electronics and inconspicuous field recordings, the kind of “infringement” of tranquillity that by now is officially certified by this genre’s spokespersons. In “Beacon Adrift”, a twanging guitar à la “Wicked Game” (that’s right, I just quoted Chris Isaak) provides an alternative type of snugness. Wherever you try to direct your attention, ambient groceries and equally edible themes contribute to reinforce the press release’s theory about the acceptance of “the world as it is”. As inoffensively cute as this puppy of a record is, there’s no doubt that my private cosmos has remained entirely unaltered.