Though superficially similar in sound to the smooth yet intuitive and often improvisatory work of classic synthscape artists like Steve Roach, Dunn's music is in truth vastly complex and restless in its through-composed perfectionism.  What could have been fierce dynamic gestures are pleasantly veiled by the substance of the misty waters of the open sea into which the sounds of the orchestral instruments Dunn has sourced have been dissolved. 

To say it is a 'sea' is on one hand a metaphorical statement, but also finds its basis in reality - every sound in the mix has been imbued with the acoustic characteristics of an environment submerged in water.  Most of the crisp trebles have blurred into the vast soundscape.

"Dissonant Distances", the first of two tracks, takes its time floating slowly into view, rising in volume, never losing that sense of steady movement.  The less tonal of the two tracks, the sound is not unlike like water rushing by your ears as you glide slowly through it.  The listener is pulled gently along on a reasonably specific trajectory, but one is aware that the aesthetics of the journey are their own justification, and that no conclusion or destination will be reached.  The further Dunn strays from fulfillment of mundane expectations, the more appealing and warm appears the environment he has created.  The escapism allowed by "Rural Route No. 2" is among its greatest pleasures.

One could forgivably remain naive of the massive emotional power Dunn's music is capable of summoning up until they heard the second and final piece "Senium III", a majestic string of incandescent, complex and glassy tone clusters and chords completely consumed by the revelatory sense of sudden cosmic understanding, and the holy surge of motivating energy that accompanies it.  With this song, Dunn has created a timeless and perfect piece of ambient music that is equal parts tragic existential vertigo and blissful acceptance.

As of now, I've listened to this disk in its entirety every day since the day I first heard it.  It is refreshing to hear ambient music with the fat and empty drift distilled out it, for a thick, resplendent nectar which rewards repeated listening to an absurd degree normally reserved for seasoned masters like Roach and Eno.  After only 20 minutes of music, I'm ready to place Kyle Bobby Dunn among such names.