Though this is classifiable as a melancholic folk or ambient post rock album, in bleak, depressive dark woods spirit, it is more of a black metal album.  Many of the riffs are the kind of chromatically alternated minor key arpeggi that form the backbone of the black metal genre, minus the relentless tremolo picking and jagged distortion.

In true black metal fashion as well, the vocals are muffled, sickly rasps.  One can discern a few of the dejected and muttered words, but they are not the focus.  In grimm tape recorder fidelity, they successfully convey the sense of a repressed and claustrophobic spirit attempting to escape its confines.  Occasionally, they tend towards a dusty, bluesy whisper, such as in "Oh Dark".

I must applaud the fact that this musician needs little more than a handful of haunting, patiently picked notes to draw the listener in to a thick, solitary 4 AM atmosphere.  One gets the sense that each note was carefully chosen for specific meaning.  There is an ancient quality to the feeling of the album, a surrender to natural forces, an allowing of ancestral energy.

"Joy and Rebellion", the 2nd piece, shows tremendous use of restraint, as there is a long, heated pause between each plodding chord.  Feedback and understated tympanic percussion swirls around the basic chords like smoke by the end of the piece.

This is an example of tremendously successful 'lo-fi' production; the good kind of bedroom album.  The microphones used may not be expensive, but the album is well mixed, and by someone who clearly understands what the most prominent elements ought to be, and how to blend the timbres into a rainy cinematic wash through skillful use of reverb.  The e-bow feedback, mournful moans and subtle choir-like backing vocals are a perfect touch, deepening the sound immeasurably without coming close to something 'cheesy'.