Ian Holloway’s Quiet World is currently dormant. Fear not, though; one of the finest purveyors of haunting electronica, whose work’s value is directly proportional to the lack of presumption, has created a new label to let us savor the results of his operations. In Holloway’s own words, this is “music with a narrative and a sense of the mysterious that would be at home within the occult territories of a stranger Britain”.
And indeed a combination of uncanniness, hypnosis and transfigured reality is what characterizes the half an hour of The Ley Of The Land, presented under the moniker The British Space Group. In the beginning, the audio landscape is quite varied inside the limits of a relative calmness. The scenes, in slow succession, are adorned with slight variations and overlaps in the frequency ranges, apparently extraneous sounds, incomprehensibly mangled human voices. As time elapses, the depth of the spatio-temporal relationship increases, the auditory perspective gradually becoming more defined. The background drones suggest inner certainty, repeated synthetic echoes try to catch our attention. In the final minutes, we realize that the alternative truths we had fabricated for ourselves, temporarily soundtracked by a minimal alien melody, are fading out. How we would appreciate their permanence.