Shimmering bells continuously shower over a low-end monotone chant of sorts (lightly resembling the yogic ‘Om’ mantra) as romantic, cinematic strings and a feedbacking flute waft and wail in and under the repetitive proceedings. This weaving hypnotic combination continues for almost half-an-hour when all is cut to reveal eerie electronic undulations, perhaps to suggest the subtitle’s transfer of energies. These more ominously writhing tones stretch and billow to paint a new dimension that extends until the end of the disk.

Cumming’s transformation from Kylie Minoise to Kylie Minyoga does seem like a starkly contrasting one; however, both approaches have the common aim to immerse the listener in the kind of staticity through constant motion that the West Coast minimalists, particularly La Monte Young and Terry Riley, evolved through combining Indian classical music with experimental compositional techniques. On the evidence of ‘Order of Light’, instead of overloading our senses Cummings’ new subtle ‘n’ spiritual approach is arguably more effective in its attempt to take us away from the everyday and into the unknown.