Recurrence is the basis of security, and nothing more than a cyclical repetition of something perceived as protective puts us in contact with that state of non-objective vision of reality that’s probably the best condition we, as erstwhile sensitive human beings, want to experience. “El Camino Real”, William Basinski’s latest emotional stream, is the perfect means to reach that level. Constructed upon a single orchestral loop, conductive to the third instalment of “Disintegration Loops” as far as sheer evocative power is concerned, this wonderful piece is another stunning example of Basinski’s sonic poetry, capable at its best of penetrating even the most stubborn defense, forcing us to ineluctably accept the poignant burden that its uncertain timbral definition provokes more or less always. Those familiar with Basinski’s work don’t need my words to understand: the loop – artfully misaligned – creates instead a slowly swaying balance that facilitates the flow of positive energy, sometimes down to moving depths. I’ve seen people who I esteem very highly crying while listening to this album, and that should count for something if we still believe we’re able to “feel”. On the other hand, this record is also perfectly fit for “active ambient” purposes, its presence a reassuring one in keeping with the above mentioned sense of safety that the best hypnotic music invariably generates. It’s easy to associate “El Camino Real” to the unchanging movement of a placid sea; this brought a distant comparison with the recent, gorgeous Iain Stewart/Keith Berry DVD “58° North” in which heartbreaking marine vistas were paired with Berry’s inspired aural visions. Still, Basinski remains one of the very few artists in the last twenty years or so that literally have given birth to a genre from nothing. This CD, one of his best, fully reinforces my theory.