Both Ray and Strother sound like generous artists. This explains, at least partially, the “good vibes” feeling that permeates the entirety of Space Yard, an album recorded on the fly, in a very limited time, in classic “set-the-instruments-up-and-go” mode. It’s a curious offer, this one, well-rounded but moderately irregular as well: glissandos floating all over the place, animal utterances (“Before You Turned Forest”), cheap rhythm machines, Eastern accents (especially in Strother’s phrasing). And an awful lot of digital delay, given that most of this material is based on constant loops upon which the musicians soar and daydream, with just a few exceptions where distortion is employed. You are not going to find a single moment of genuine nastiness in here; it’s music that for its large part smiles in beatitude, where technical bravura is still at the service of innocence.