An obscure, delicate gem – somehow belonging to the “contemporary psychedelic ambient” area (OK, I made up this one) yet starting with a recited poem – that needs to be brought to a wider audience’s attention, likely to be appreciated by people willing to open their channels a little bit more than usual to the elements of existence that should be considered fundamental and are plainly forgotten instead. The project’s components are Mark Baigent (baroque oboe), Andy Cotterill (electronics), Bryony Lees (poetry), John Letcher (dulcimer), Richard Moult (composer), Ian Tengwall (guitar) and Amanda Votta (flute). Six movements of “music that describes tides”, mostly recorded in outdoor spaces. The whisper of the wind, the wash of the sea and the singing of the birds cannot be ignored, and there are moments in which one literally feels like rewinding the tape back to childhood. “Far black furlong” crosses influences as diverse as celtic folk, experimental acoustic and drone-based electronica, amalgamating them in a synthesis of hypnosis and self-awareness. In a way, this record could make a nice pair with the Fovea Hex trilogy on Die Stadt, even if the vocal element is almost totally absent here, replaced by trance-inducing reverberant instrumental serenities verging on the bucolic, without added sugar. A gentle intensity that radiates warmly throughout a full hour, human problems momentarily left outside the window. Do yourself a favour and get a copy of the limited edition, which comes with a second disc featuring a masterful 34-minute droning remix of the original album, as spellbinding as the summer moon mirrored in the rippled waters of a harbour (and often very near to Paul Bradley’s most fascinating work). You know which side I’m on.