Coming toward the listener from a distance, Bastet slowly writhes forward, picking up layers as it goes. The serpentine tones are soon joined by thick, misty waverings, like smoke from a recent offering. Siren like swells pierce this scene with a jarring, unnatural vibe. An interesting blend of synthetic naturalness and in your face technology, Bastet is part spaceship engine and part ancient ritual. Whether droning hypnotically like the opener, "Am," or plodding along with the metronomic, tribal  hand drums of "Ka," LCC seamlessly stitches together differing styles in a pastiche of modern ritualistic sound. Manipulated recordings play alongside synthesized tones to reinforce the duality of LCC's sound. This juxtaposition is also realized in "Ib," with church-like chants and ethereal waverings playing against what sounds like distant gunfire and other sounds of war and conflict. There is a lot to take in on Bastet. Initial listens play the album as pretty thin and light, but with subsequent spins, the album opens itself up, revealing its depth to the listener. Each track works well on its own, but the album is constructed in such a way that the tracks connect with each other, whether directly or tangentially. These connections bolster Bastet's approach and further LCC's mission.

Bastet presents a mix of old and new, natural and synthetic, and does so in a very smooth, unjarring way. LCC have spent their time crafting a well done album and worthy sophomore effort. Working on the thinner side of sound, they have used only the sounds they need, and haven't bloated Bastet with unnecessary, and possibly interfering, sounds.