With her third album, Vantzou conforms once again to her role of originator of acoustic waves capable of calming down, through their mere diffusion, whatever internal turmoil might be experienced in any given moment. Which, in a way, is rather strange if we take into account the sombre moods almost systematically elicited. Typically, unhappiness is directly linked with unfulfillment; in that sense, one could fear that the profound melancholy expressed by the bulk of this woman’s output could lead to the worsening of psychological conditions dangerously bordering with depression (a man-invented illness if you ask me, but that’s another story). Yet there’s something that helps and it’s called harmonic tissue, an aspect that in the ambit of Vantzou’s work has to be carefully examined both in orchestral and timbral terms. A track like “Stereoscope” evolves as a slow caress on the head of a silently crying someone, replete as it is with soothing frequencies. Even better are “CV” and “The Future”, adding measures of glorious semi-dissonant stupor to a collection whose lone weakness is perhaps the occasional appearance of fairly “easy” Eno-esque designs (“Pillar 3”, for example), probably more valuable in conjunction with the composer’s imagery. In any case, there must be a reason behind my will of keeping the record spinning in these last days of extreme corporeal tiredness. It’s not just a matter of cosmetically enhanced grieving; there’s substance in the brokenheartedness.

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