By the use of sounds generated via unspecified acoustic and electronic instruments, Phillips and Hara produced a succession of aural snapshots whose level of insightfulness is variable, without loss of consistency. In fact, what saves Prosa from the cauldron of average electronica is the duo’s competence in juxtaposing dissimilar pictures according to a logical disposition, which makes the listener admit even the most unsurprising turn of events as required. Pseudo-static architectures replete with reverberating lights get replaced by melodic shards that elsewhere might sound inconsequential; yet in this context they call for our attention, as to invite us to listen more closely to snatch some inbuilt secret. Impressive subsonic frequencies convoy surging hisses, only to leave room to a few seconds of precious silence before morphing shapes, vivid colours and fascinating perspectives mesh again their essences. The literary references – which include hints to certain depictions of typical Japanese composure – are just an orientation point. The real interest lies in the systematic change of sonic setting, in total absence of shockers, that the composers employ as a thread. The positive effects are not immediate, but there’s no trace of tasteless superficiality herein.