Like several other modern bands on Hubro and elsewhere, the musical approach of this album is somewhere between 'out' 70's jazz and psychedelic rock or doom metal.  This kind of post-genre attitude to improvisation allows the music to take truly unexpected turns in its narrative arcs, and circumvents the calculated academic tone 'avant garde' has traditionally had, adopting the intuitive/exploratory 'feeling it out' methodology of 70's improvised music, while thankfully leaving out the most abrasive free jazz's relentless refusal to relate or cause pleasure.  In a sense, the album is very 'retro' in its sound palette and stylistic leanings, but the fearless way contrasting ideas and approaches are combined make this album listenable and often surprising.

Aside from the saxophonist, the band's members utilize a traditional rock instrumentation of guitar, bass and drums, however, hearing some of the otherworldly sounds present in the 1st track, I would hardly have guessed.   Hans Magnus "Snah" Ryan's guitar/amp creates rough hewn, undulating squalls of feedback which swell and hiccup through timbral modulations in ways which could not be notated.  The muffled, ashy tones have a pleasing grit, but never become ear-piercingly sharp.  It could be he's playing through a bass amp.  I'm reminded of several groups in recent memory which have combined the low register distortion and riffing style of doom metal with a freeform ambient approach, such as TenHornedBeast, or various Utech Records releases.

After an uneasy and dissonant freeform beginning, the 'rock' moments of this album are tasty indeed.  This part of the group's sound has come into full swing by the 4th movement of "Descending...".   In addition to the abstract textures of the first piece, the resonating tube amp distortion of Ryan's guitar also provides the album's most familiar and comfortable touchstones, with classic blues chord progressions and noisy shred.  Similar to the instrumental powerhouse band ZU, the band often doubles doomy pentatonic sludge riffing with the formidable bellowing rasp of Møster's saxophone, a satisfyingly thick and unusual form of unison.  The subterranean aesthetic seems less apt at this point than in the dim ambience which begins the album, but I can't say I mind, as what we get is infectiously lively and engaging.

Møster's saxophone playing becomes noticable in its own right, as well, stating elegant and nostalgic melodies with long, sonorous tones, increasing into siren wails charged with obvious passion and intent.  He's not afraid to bleat, but ultimately, he's a melodic player, with plaintive and dark note choices, his best moment being the soulful solo in "Magma Movement", part 3 out of 4 in "Descending...".  This is the band at their most classically 'psych rock', capturing that wistful, nostalgic, world weary feeling that comes right when the sound thins out, the musicians are tapping relaxedly upon that hypnotic beat, and at that poetically perfect instant, the cathartic release of melody appears, in the form of a solo.  This is the refuge that psychedelic jam bands have always provided, carrying troubled individuals out of themselves into the larger flow of universal energy.

"Tearatorn" is the album's longest and most 'free' feeling piece, a nice contrast to the easy-to-follow 'rock out' which ended the 4 sections of "Descending...".  The musicians loosen their tightly control over the sounds momentum for a maddeningly abstract cacophony, in which the listener can never be sure of a steady rhythm's continuance, the assymmetrical staccato stabs of the saxophone seemingly intentionally disorienting.  The drumming on this track is a lot more active, a ceaseless cascade of fills and cymbal work.  The middle section is a churning white-wash noise-out that should please fans of Acid Mothers Temple or Lightning Bolt, while the end is dominated by  Møster's shrillest barrage of violent saxophone squawks.  Placed at the beginning of the album, this would have turned many listeners away, but with the album mostly finished, it's perfect.

The album fittingly returns to written/composed material with "Underworld Risk", which likely contains the most devastatingly heavy unison riff on the album.

The production on this album is great.  Crystal clear, vibrant, and in your face, full of that distinctively analog warmth.  In truth, this sounds better than any album of classic 70's era from which the band draws inspiration.  The sounds have such vivid dynamism that it has a live feeling immediacy.  The perfect frequency balance found on this album is partly responsible for making even its most abrasive moments enjoyable.

This band has made a pleasurable, coherently narrative record out of freeform styles of music often derided for their ugliness, randomness or pointlessness.  I can only imagine this band is fantastic live, judging by the fierce energy they display here, and the perfectly paced intentionality with which they progress from sound to sound.  I cannot overemphasize that this is the rare noise rock / free jazz album that is well paced and musical.  I highly recommend "Inner Earth".