Mining a similar path to Jake Muir’s Mana album, Bondy explores a late, late night mood on this one, obscuring delicate digital processes behind gossamer webs of static, windchimes and smeared guitars drifting into bliss. Over the space of half an hour, breathy atmospheres blur into a pastel-hued paradise, feeding digitally distressed melodies into whirring machinery and swirling pads.

On ‘Omni Field’ diffracted dub chords swirl around a rainstorm, before ‘Pool’ arranges a guitar arpeggio like some lost E2 E4 edit, and ‘conté’ evokes the meditative calm of Harold Budd or Roger Eno with its enigmatic, pastoral ambience. The album’s central point comes with ‘kanga’, a fuzzy dreamscape assembled from booming subs and psychoactive bells that feel more potent than a blotter under the tongue…