Each track starts with one or two looped textures, from the opener’s crumbly revolutions of a dirty needle on vinyl, or the throbbing, bassy engine of ‘Crunch’ to airy, entropic processes on ‘Puzzle’ and ‘The Last Drop’ and the title tracks’ distant demolition squad. Each establishes a cycle over which Brandal casts an uneasy presence with minimal layers of electrical tones and unidentifiable field recordings onto the hiss of magnetic tape.

These subtle combinations place the listener in a seemingly antiquated environment filled with mysterious currents bringing to mind eccentric science experiments, like those of Tesla (who was the inventor of Power Electronics, after all), as their genius enthuses them into exploring the more bizarre reaches of their imaginations. But, especially on tracks like ‘Instinct’, ‘The Last Drop’, and the title track, it is the ghost of such experiments that seems to be on display, having charged the air with their movements so they can still be detected long after the environment in which they once thrived has decayed.

The two deviations that take one out of this Victoriana close each side of the cassette. Side one concludes with acoustic guitar of all things, as two chords are sombrely strummed while a distant thunder approaches, rumbling portentously. Side two finishes with ‘Somebody’, that invades the room with thick arcs of strong, writhing, electrical tones, pulsing out dangerous energies before short drops of static attempt and fail to hinder its pace.

Once again, Andreas Brandal has managed to create a dark drama of hidden powers out of limited means. And while these tracks blend well with the lo-fi qualities of tape, one can’t help but wonder if an even more powerful effect could be achieved if suitably mastered onto CD or vinyl.