All alone, Robert Patterson Collier builds lamellaphones then plays, processes and loops their sound. Pretty normal, I hear you muttering; well, to a degree. The essential information lies in the last paragraph of Collier’s Bandcamp page (link above, as always). The inner ear tunes the instrument of your choice in a way that is usually disobedient to canons and rules. No one can pretend a connection with the correct resonance, something that a collective rarely achieves (unless you trust someone’s clueless words). The gifted individual instinctively knows where to turn and what to look for, and starts right there.
It takes time to listen to 71 miniatures, but it’s not necessary doing it all at once in spite of the absolute non-heaviness of the program (tip: hit the random play button). Enjoying these nicely shimmering, occasionally buzzing tiny creatures brings pure happiness more often than not. The bulk of this modestly entrancing collection combines miniaturized echoes of Palestine, Reich, Roden, Roedelius, a Penguin Cafe Orchestra/Fennesz hybrid, and a dwarfish incarnation of Harry Partch (there you go, I quoted Partch as any incompetent chatting specimen does in regime of scarcity of trendy names) after being bitten by a weird-looking bug from Central Africa. The aural chemistry with this reviewer was impressive, like a love at first sight for the new classmate. Trundlebox could be the whole music one needs in a given day of life, the perfect soundtrack for numbly staring without human interference, not caring a iota about mosquitos and wasps attempting to modify an honest, if somewhat idiotic expression of beatitude.