Kenny Rakentine – the fleshly presence behind Angel Dust – talks about this music as an “exercise in restraint”, and he’s quite right in spite of the humongous repercussions and abyssal frequencies defining the bulk of Shallow. An efficient examiner will instantly conclude that situating this work straight into the “dark ambient” sphere would translate as “cursory listening”, although the deus ex machina himself refers to that style as one of the main influences. In fact, a reasonable measure of compositional form becomes noticeable as the sections succeed. The processed sources are diversified, human voice and field recordings to feedback and other less recognizable matters. The inescapable propensity of the mind to unnecessarily correlate produces a few indistinct ghosts: the grandnephew of Iannis Xenakis immersed in Lustmord dampness, perhaps? Anyhow, that’s not to say that we can append this release to a list of epochal opuses. But it is clear that the creative dullness and boring overstatements that have turned a once-fertile territory into a receptacle of woofer-clogging sonic crap and utterly laughable “ominousness” are totally absent. The cassette format is a reminder of the good times, besides allowing us to delight in the wholeness without undesirable disconnections. Telling you that an attentive eye should be kept on this gentleman’s next productions is not a charitable gesture, but an invitation to fish those who still have a functional brain from the endless river of mere button-pushers.