Also known as Son Of Clay, Andreas Bertilsson presents a very interesting and well tought-out composition under his own name. After rising from a deafening hush, a deep drone underlines concrete sources (squeaking sounds, water and birds) surrounded by a superimposition of electronic frequencies. Sounds of wood and water are placed at the forefront in the mix. A voice whispers a few phrases in Swedish, the ever-present drone interrupted by spurts of treated and warped emissions; the atmosphere is pretty dark and mysteriously reticent despite the sonic variety. More birds and strange harmonic codes open the second movement, interrupted by short silent segments. Faraway subsonics are heard, like the sound of cars heard from a long distance. Rustling and crackling fuse with peculiar resonances, apparently computerized, then an improvised section of drum’n’noise breaks both the tranquillity and the sense of anticipation perceived until that moment. It finally cuts back to that half-scary, half-protective environment heard at the beginning of this quite inscrutable section. The third instalment is the most unpredictably dissonant, with percussive sources and disguised rumbles introducing what sounds like adjacent stratifications of female vocals, disturbed by additional doses of interferent electronics. The concoction annoys and allures but never for a moment loses its grip on our attention. A noisy mayhem is started about 5 minutes into the part, and it involves everything: destruction has finally won its war against the basic immobility of the track. “Paramount” is 30 minutes of excellent acousmatics, well worth of everybody’s consideration.