Subsequently to ten days spent in the Ethiopian city of Harar, gathering materials to use as background sounds for a theatre piece based on an Arthur Rimbaud letter, Carl Michael Von Hausswolff managed to extract the maximum (for us, the listeners) from the minimum (of utilized means). In “Day And Night” a local string instrument played with a violin bow, after being treated with a computer, generates a protracted drone unfolding from – and within – a few minutes of introductory field recordings (a leaking tap contributes at one point, but it’s actually scarcely relevant after having tasted the track’s menacingly chilly temperament). “The Sleeper In The Valley” features parallel oscillators producing a skull-saturating quasi-monochrome texture barely “disturbed” by constant Morse code signals. It might sound normal on paper, yet this is not the work of a 21-year old geek who wants to get famous in a week (rhyme unintended). The Swedish is the lucky owner of an inquisitive inner ear that transforms a “regular trance album” into something to remember fondly. What could appear as parsimony reveals instead the intention of focusing on single sources of bitter pleasure for a mind willing to receive it. Some of the components are not immediately discernible, and the strengthening quality of those waveringly ominous pitches remains a mystery whose solution is not really necessary.