Almost never, I should say, today’s music linked to the “pedestrian ambient” movement manages to whisper words of wisdom under the guise of genuinely poignant frequencies. The syrupy conformability of thousands of half-baked releases in this area has been lamented time and again by this reviewer, and that litany of too-easy-to-see reasons won’t be reiterated here. Now, let’s suspend the curfew for a few instants of reflection about a rarity, namely a good album of quiet, cloudy emanations by two masters of the game. The Storm Of Silence begs to differ from the mass of incompetent drone peddlers, fake Buddhists, shape worshippers and Eno clones poisoning the ionosphere. It’s full of consonance, but not boring; it’s relaxing, yet its slow-motion reminiscences dig deep, often in unsuspectable ways. A long distance collaboration needing no detailed description, as timeless chordal superimpositions, accumulating strata of infinitely stretched strings (guitars and piano definitely belong among the basic constituents) and electronic sources restore some order in the nervous system’s chaotic traffic, putting the mind in a peaceful condition right away. A warm embrace lulling to a semiconscious oblivion, the whole might go on for hours in this quietly worried evening. And that’s exactly what is going to happen.