The disk slowly fades into the room with layers of a beautiful simmering koto that slowly cools into lazier tones from what could be a toy piano urged onward by a brief bass figure.  It's followed by the breezy wind chimes of 'The Sea Saw Swell', an ebb and flow of rusty strumming gradually taking a hesitant lead. 'Marble Steppe' then gently teases a feint melody on a shy melodica, sounding bowed like a quelled Dirty Three interlude, while the title track is almost as slow as a sunrise with its serene unfurling of shimmering harmonics.

But, as all these pieces both fade in and out without their apex' lasting more than a few minutes, it is left to the final track's 19 minutes to showcase En's full fragile spectrum. 'Elysia' places its listeners in a hushed outdoors suggested by light rustling movements and the odd bird call as dreamy organ tones cascade downwards. Their steadily repeated trajectory is joined by a rippling koto to form a brook that eventually flows underground. Here they find a gently reverberating chasm in which to spread the remnants of their tones as they float ever upwards, finding ways out to return to a patient sea.

Through affording a greater timeframe, 'Elysia' succeeds in
transporting its audience where the preceding tracks fail. Their all too brief exposures offer a mere glimpse of the organic world En create, whereas 'Elysia' hangs around long enough to provide a more memorable travelogue of their soporific sound world.