Guitarist Warren Ng (how do you pronounce that? do you just sorta gulp?) forges some brooding, mysterious drone with a very minimal set up. These long pieces are so spacious and ethereal they flirt with post-rock and ambient, but the improvisation is quite active, mostly consisting of hazy layered guitar with occasional splashes of percussion and radio sampling. Brilliant use of harmonics, reverb, etc., intelligent but restrained, pleasantly lo-fi. The pencil-necked geeky kid who sat in the back of the classroom, messing around with his hand-held tape recorder and getting beat up by the popular drone dudes who get all the gals, e.g. Jon Porras (Barn Owl) or Tom Carter, finally gets his musical revenge. See also: Roy Montgomery, Oren Ambarchi, Neil Young’s “Dead Man” soundtrack

Disc 1:
1. (28:26) Soft, lethargic arpeggios dance around, accompanied by some harsh but directionless low-string action, drifting in and out of awareness but always remaining calm. Sounds like the incredibly long intro to a post-rock song, but the drums and bass never come in.
2. (28:31)** Mystical melodies wandering in from the fog—lush and hazy, gentle yet somehow heartwrenchingly urgent.
Disc 2:
1. (11:55) slightly unnerving atonal basement drone, abstract rumbling and subtle static, some frenetic clutter of clanging metal and six-string schizophrenia
2. (10:54)* underwater jungle pulse, jangling windchimes and some creepy guitar wanderings. Strumming a possibly un-tuned guitar brings out some really bizarre harmonic textures
3. (12:01) a haunting vacant void, subterannean Buddhist monk chanting and Ornette Coleman trying to play guitar after overdosing on Nyquil
4. (14:44)* gentle meandering, drenched in melancholy, soft chordal textures reminiscent of the newer Earth material, if Dylan Carlson had anterograde amnesia.
5. (15:28)** placid atonal strumming and sliding, floating and hovering ambience, totally lush and dreamy