Straight off, an atmosphere of arcane ritual opens the album as Hess strikes a gong and creates gentle intonations in its wake while Mäder casts out layers of fragile sustained textures before a horn fanfare marches solemnly and steadily, with a simple refrain on a xylophone in counterpoint. This simplicity can feel anecdotal, like undeveloped refrains across a film soundtrack often do, perhaps a symptom of the track being culled from a much longer recording, and yet to be left wanting more is so much better than indulgently outstaying any welcome.

The album continues in a similar vein throughout, focussing more on the development of a distinct pool of building, atmospheric sounds than attempting to form diverse structures or songs. This pool may incorporate the results of self-sampling, where most tracks seem to become increasingly filled with sounds initially acoustic in nature but steadily joined by newly treated versions of themselves providing sympathetic layers of deepening accompaniment, each track consuming itself like a modern manifestation of the ancient Ourobouros. On tracks like 'Theme of the Paranormal Feedback' and 'Voices from the Room Below', what sounds like bowed guitar forms a central bed of sustained tones that proceed to build rusting columns that stain and scrape their way slowly around nimble percussive manoeuvres at a tempo that reminds of early Swans.

But this processional pace of Hess and Mäder's interplay is not bludgeoning in any way – the short, simple refrains that usually rise to the surface of their simmering layers are always aspiringly triumphant, ultimately suggesting a challenge met or a danger avoided through stealth, as they gently but purposefully build to a climax with elegance and eeriness simultaneously. So while this first release for Ural Umbo feels like a collection of sketches, they are drawn with a unique charm and portray deliciously dark dramas best experienced at night.