Musik for Dekomposition has six such ‘movements’ across half an hour, each employing modular analog synthesisers to create very similar combinations that, once established early on, are left to permeate a bleak and barren atmosphere with minimal modulation. The cassette opens to a machinic throb whose fast spin cycle is interrupted regularly by a crushed, distorted stab that keeps time as an abrasive wind rises and falls. Similar monotonous layers form the basis of all tracks, recalling the limited palette that underscored TG’s early work.

Points of difference can be found, though: the first three tracks have a subtly submerged baritone vocal intoning undecipherable syllables, giving them a foreboding sense of arcane ritual as the layers swim around gradually strengthening across the length of each track. But perhaps the greatest contrast between them are the tempos imposed by the grey synth pulses, from the slow and brooding opener, followed by the more complex rhythms of ‘Flash Dekomposition’, to the bludgeoning, car alarm-paced march of ‘Dekomposition III’, which, bereft of any other ingredients, is surely the most primitive piece of the set.

Consequently, ‘Musik for Dekomposition’ is largely an uneventful and unobtrusive work that acts like ambient music was originally conceived to – casting a mood on the environment without being too prominent in itself. And the mood conveyed strongly here feels dryer than decomposition, more suggestive of a cold, lifeless landscape rendered uninhabitable by all but machines whose carbon-based creators have long since decomposed. Although long since sold out on cassette, Musik for Dekomposition has recently been re-released on CD by Australia’s Fall of Nature Records ensuring its decaying disposition lives on.