Googling for “Mark Bradley”, you’ll find sportsmen and other assorted members of humanity before inevitably directing the search to the Discogs page, where a considerable number of releases appear under this name, flanked by the definition “electronic musician”. No website as far as I can see, and also no indication of the instruments used on this 3-inch, supposedly based on synthetic sounds (though one cannot be certain). Calm ambient growing from near inaudibility to slightly more “present” textures, always in the realm of utter peace of mind and corporeal relax (but without New Age implications). There’s nothing here resembling a veritable compositional effort, except the choice of the colours to layer. So be it: 20 minutes that, in order to gain a measure of meaning, must be repeated ad infinitum and kept as an undertow, without asking for anything else. This particular evening – open windows and crickets at work in the silent valley – is welcoming it. Transient clouds of consonance made with grace and good taste. No humdrum vulgarity, which is a success in itself given the genre.