As I said, the text quoted from the back cover raises several ideas about what the CD might hold; like me, your brain probably suggested that looping would figure highly, and also manipulation of this looping - both physically (the disc itself) and electronically (the sounds generated by the disc). Beyond anything else, ‘vinyl’ disc releases are obviously suited to looping, though the restrictive nature of the material would also suggest that approach too. So Flower & Water does indeed feature a lot of loops, but rarely feels like it relies on them. I’ll happily confess that I’ve often listened to it as one long collage, and I think that’s really how it should be heard: as a collage of sounds, techniques, and exploration. The flexi disc in question is a piano piece by George Winston, and thus Roden’s constructions are dominated by circling piano melancholies, and more plastic noises and processes. Though full of noises, the album is never noisy, as such. Transparency (Red) has an insistent, dark piano pulse, coupled with nice treble squiggles, but the mood is very much a murky dread - and that’s as dark or ‘negative’ as the entire work gets. For most of the time, Roden creates a melancholy ambience, driven by layers of repeating piano notes (either processed or unaffected), and fleshed out by bassy drones, backwards loops, slurred sounds, discreet noises, and vinyl crackle. It would perhaps be a pointless (and counter-productive) task to document all of the elements contained within, but suffice to say it’s a reasonably rigorous examination of what can be done with a red flexi disc. It’s also a perfect soundtrack to the rainy day I can see out of my window.

I’ll admit that when I first held this, and read the back cover, I was apprehensive. It sounded like my ears were about to be treated to a very dry, possibly academic, exercise - almost a workshop task: ‘Create a 37 minute album using just this flexi disc…’ However, Flower & Water is a very listenable work, colourful and engaging, without ever deploying attention-seeking tactics. It’s most often understated and quiet, unfolding at an unhurried pace. Indeed, perhaps its greatest triumph, is that it does indeed feel like a constructed piece of unsettled ambience, and not just a formal display in technique and creativity. It is, of course, somewhat restricted by staying true to the source material, but that adds strength to the conception of it as a collage. A very enjoyable album.