Weld 's sonic ambition is evident early on: within fifteen minutes it has transported us from the stately, medievalist keyboard/choral poetics of 'Truth Teller', through the agitated wormhole techno of 'Dreamsnake' (preview below), to the white light-emitting, near-symphonic plainchant of 'Healer'. As these piece's titles suggest, this is an album steeped in myth and ideas of personhood that are pre-modern, or at least exist outside of modernity. Accordingly, Coloccia and Barnett's high-fidelity compositions and edits are alchemical, upsetting obvious chronologies of change: 'Blight's zero-hour synth pulsations are first interrupted, then engulfed, by an extra-terrestrial broadcast of piercing bell and glass-tones; 'AM Horizon' is pitched bewitchingly between Prophet-5 pulp futurism and earthbound, atavistic dread; 'Agate Cross's baroque harmonic sequence disintegrates at it's very climax, cooling and dissipating into a deep starfield of pure tone. 'Ash Grove' and 'Rose Eye' are exhilarating exercises in contemporary musique concrète: complex timbral constructs in which Coloccia's disembodied glossolalia, swooping strings and other nameless sonic spectra conspire to evoke extra-dimensional space and the highest spiritual drama.