Soft drone from Texas. Even in the ambient field, Pacione’s music is like no other I’ve ever heard. Out of just a few ultra-subtle, highly repeated elements he draws out an astonishing spectrum of emotions that have no easy description. This seems less like the product of musical instruments than of hot, dense winds gliding slowly through darkening landscapes. It’s simultaneously calming and foreboding, and it rewards attention generously. One of my favorite albums of all time.

All tracks are great, but particular highlights are 2, 8, 9, 10. Tracks fade into one another; I recommend continuous play. No words, no FCCs. (This first saw release in 2005 and went out of print not long after, but Pacione re-released it digitally in early 2014.)

1. (2:01)—Tones slip in and slide between stately major-key and something murkier.
2. *(5:19)—Creeping bubbles of drone, whirring sounds underneath.
3. (3:21)—Serene, brighter—an empty field at sundown.
4. (9:22)—The field darkens and nocturnal creatures begin to appear. More low-end on this one—epic in its own way.
5. (8:00)—Mild, but begins to shimmer near the end—eyes adjusting to the dark.
6. (1:54)—Sweeping, dynamic, brief—chiaroscuro orchestral music warped beyond recognition.
7. (4:58)—Glitchier, more machine-like than the other tracks—household objects droning at night.
8. *(8:08)—Eerie, high-pitched nighttime paranoia and melancholy.
9. *(4:51)—Imagine being deep enough underwater that you can just barely see light shining on the surface.
10. *(12:15)—Glistening tones drift into shadowy cicada-land. Everything slowly sinks into a perfectly peaceful valley.
11. (12:40)—Dark, builds ever so slowly. Toy bells chime from a distance. And then the music unravels and fades—Sisyphus descending the mountain and disappearing in the dark.