Hearing the moniker drone in the title is sure to elicit a predictable range of responses, but Ostler gives us fortunate listeners sufficient evidence to scrap all of that and start anew. Each of the four central compositions is either proceeded or succeeded by what Ostler calls an "Intralude", his neologism for what comes before, and maybe what follows. These shorter pieces foreground the saxophone above all, and are like inserts in a film, or acute concentrations of sonic material, unfiltered, louder and faster than their longer counterparts. Ostler is a master of conjuring space, as attentive to the murky background as the more well-defined figures that stand in front of it. This is something that traditional composers with traditional acoustic instruments were always at pains to account for in their works. We see the notes, but only at the expense of losing the page behind them, their support, as it were. Drone, in Ostler's stunning new album, is the thing and the space required to hear it, to first perceive its appearance: each is intrinsic to the other.

 

This is very highly recommended for ambient junkies, or classical music fans who are open to hearing what the air supporting a hand, or an instrument, or the space between a signal and its output, sounds like. These are not pieces, but worlds. To jump into this album's universe