Silence is dangerous for the weak, for the worst fears appear in that moment. Have you ever wondered why most people want to socialize at all costs, babble around, join communities, travel together, laugh insistently at parties, let everybody know who they are and what they do even if we don’t give a fuck, speak loud on the cell phone in front of others? That’s right, they’re afraid of silence. Aidan Baker – probably involuntarily – approaches a neighbouring concept with a 50-minute track and, by modifying the oneiric tendencies of some of his work quite heavily, hits the bull’s eye. Although guitars and tape loops are the only source for the music like in many of Aidan’s previous albums, this time there is a dominating colour that shifts the balance towards that perilous area where trance and mental influence meet. That hue is symbolized by Baker’s use of vocal fragments, which the man from Toronto adds to his stratified masses to highlight a correspondence between the basic elements, meaning silence and fear of course. These uttered syllables, elongations of speeches, disturbing accounts (“I felt suicidal”, a male voice reports in the last minutes of the CD) create a confused, but still engrossing jumble of subliminal messages whose persuasive power is highly effective, especially via headphones. It’s just like being submitted to some sort of psychedelic test without drugs, and sincerely I would not advise this record to someone who can be easily affected. A great release, then – but only if you’re trained in keeping coolness when the brain suggests strange things: for many, the noise of silence is unbearable. That’s when they start doing damage.