Taking the form of two side long tracks, Buchla On Tape focuses on slow moving, sparse modular meditation. Although populated with the bleeps and bloops that tend to lose me, there are many drawn out sections that help to ground these pieces, and the brief moments of fading into near silence punctuate the passages nicely. The swampy beginning and robotic calls of side two are reminiscent of R2-D2 on Dagobah. Leading into a pulsing of an almost primitive nature, the off world desolation is cut off by an uncharacteristic blast of white noise before leading back in to modular mayhem. Turbulent and, at times, dissonant, it stands in contrast to the brighter, first side of the tape.

Long, modular compositions are not my thing, and probably never will be. However, Buchla On Tape never hits the point where I get maddened enough to shut it off. Yes, it's rife with bubbling bleeps and bloops, but there's an underlying tone that keeps it grounded. While I can't fully explain the subtleties of this style, I know what I like and what I don't, and this is somewhere in the middle.