Academics and trainspotters will doubtless suggest this glacially slow and frosty album has reference points in Fripp and Eno's No Pussyfooting/Evening Star period, but its low range buzz of harmonium has illicited more interesting responses around my way, "What's wrong with the stereo?" being the mostcommon.
Gustafsson (on "flutephone" and tenor sax) and Grubbs (formerly of art subversives Red Krayola on harmonium) deliver one of those indescribably subtle, ambient drone albums made for low volume and for which words like "texture" and "interminable" seem invented.
Yet its appeal (and hey, I find it appealing!) lies in its non-linear, amelodic and mesmerising effect which may require considerable patience to allow it to run its course.
Call it art music or avant-garde if you will (although it's neither), but it has commanded an unnatural amount of play at my place - when everyone else is out, of course.
