The cover of Demetrio Cecchitelli’s Jump features an equestrian predecessor to Yves Klein’s famously staged, “Leap Into the Void”, which might give listeners an indication of what exactly is meant by the “jump” in the work’s title. It is definitely not the Van Halen version; rather, it is, as Klein later demonstrated, a jump into the unknown.

“Each” as an opener is something of a lark, sounding more like early 90s IDM or ambient work, which does not reappear on the ensuing tracks. Much more than any genre referencing, what becomes central to what follows is the smooth rising and falling of Cecchitelli’s sound sources, shifting intensity without ever so much as a break or interruption.

“Notturno” (nocturne) emerges and dispenses with the movement of the opener in favor of an ominous soundscape, with minor inflections here and there, filling a void and replacing it with another one. “Acrobat” is yet another departure, characterized by a wicked subharmonic underbelly and very faint electric guitar and staccato clops that sound like horse trots on a sidewalk or stone, which move like a Leslie speaker – approaching, then walking away. The bass and the higher pitched footsteps rarely coincide, marking two distinct bodies passing one another like ships in the night.

“Field & Guitar” is a pretty straightforward admission of what is to be found therein: field recordings and guitar. The former are mostly muffled voices, straining to achieve anything close to clear articulation, while the guitar is plucked, first a few higher notes, followed by a few bassier ones, never coalescing into anything like a harmonious chord. If this is a reflection of the impossibility of social cohesion, I would say, we’re screwed. “Disappearing” comes out of nowhere, as velvety and harmonically rich as any pop song, where all of the false starts and purposeful, intentional intervention have been removed, leaving something almost saccharine in their wake. “Oxygen” floats like a balloon, filled with the titular substance, and we know this because all of the undergirding of the low end is gone now, bidding farewell to the terrestrial and all of its trappings. A perfect segue for “Levitation”, which takes off, weightless, soaring into deep space, or maybe just the tiny expanse of sky over your neighbor’s yard. 

And so on and so forth. I won’t reveal all the hidden gems of this tour de force, and while I hate to go all biographical, I can’t help but be astonished that this Demetrio is a paltry 27 years of age. I say this because the exactitude, breadth of mood, and frugality of source material, is a thing of pure enjoyment. I must have listened to nothing other than this album for two days straight, and it never felt at odds with shifting context or behavior, never became tiresome or predictable. This is highly recommended for anyone interested in ambient innovation of really the highest order. At not even 30, there is so much to look forward to with Cecchitelli, especially for those of us who have yet to cross paths with this architect of the sublime