The thing I like most about “Sihl” – and Jason Kahn’s music in general – is that these sounds start as a clearly perceptible entity but, after a while, inhibit our body from performing its ordinary activities by gulping our mental disposition, making a pincushion of the brain through hypnotic waves, malleable percussive rolling and bowing, frequency-based earpricking. Jason uses just two sources – percussion and analogue synthesizer – to arrive right there where more verbose composers fail, as they become titubant in a sea of useless sounds when a genuine conciseness would be the easiest path to the core of the matter. All the pretty short segments forming this album – which was inspired by Kahn’s reflections on one of the rivers crossing his hometown of Zurich – abandon us abruptly after having lulled various fragments of our life with their scintillating effectiveness; Kahn seemingly admonishes against the excessive trust in an unstable immunity to the pain of conscience, instead welcoming the apparent struggle between unusual sounds and saturated silence, meanwhile confirming himself at the very front of that echelon of deep-thinkers who try to develop a minimalism for the new millennium.