The album begins with an amp hum that grows into a warm melodic saw wave, in the track "Begin". The second piece "Bodies in Place" makes it clear that this is the kind of album where headphones are required, a binaural field of floating objects.  This track is a disoriented maelstrom of field recordings in which many clashing environments are forced to co-exist, ripped to shreds and arranged into a very strange Frankenstein.  Spence's soft melodic voice can be heard amidst the rustling, birds, and unknown indoor noises.

"Bodyscan" cements a recurring theme of pure electronic tones with a smooth sine or triangle wave gradually filtered into a distant underwater hum. Around this tone there is Spence's close breathing, creating the impression (supported by the title) that this tone is being created by kind of hospital machine.  Later, the tone becomes chordal, bringing feelings of vulnerability.

With "A Soft Crackle", we return to the field recordings, with a vividly crisp and evocative texture, which I could listen to for hours.  The fidelity of modern stereo field recordings allows for something of a microscopic view into a universe beyond our senses, and I feel this technology is generally underused.  "A Soft Crackle" Is perhaps not so soft, a thick grey texture of scratching or rustling of unknown origin.   It is an appealing thrashing mass in the same way as harsh noise music, holding the attention through its constant erratic pulsation, but far gentler on the ears.

"Sleep In Nothingness"  and "Flora (for a Friend)" feature a whispered narration from Spence.  Like so many sounds on the album it is almost claustrophobically close and immediate, as if Spence is whispering less than a centimeter from your ear.  The intimacy of this close mic'd quality really places you within Spence's life.

With the frequent use of her impromptu, whimsical vocals and other domestic field recordings all throughout the music, this album becomes something like an audio journal, a document of Spence's life containing scraps from each of her most common locations.  Emotional/humanistic subject matter is counterbalanced with detached observation of the surroundings in which Spence herself disappears from view.  Voices besides hers appear as well, from intercoms, news broadcasts and help desks.

Waking, She Heard the Fluttering is a vivid three dimensional experience with intelligent pacing, and a high density of detail and sonic layering.  It is sensitive and intimate without being maudlin.  With its blend of natural and artifical locations, it is an accurate document of the modern world.  I look forward to more work from Spence.