His music signifies an upward curve of rising intensity from which everything non-essential drops away. Whereat essential is meant in the sense of introspective. If the kick drum thuds along reasonably unassuming in the beginning of a track, it is already withdrawn into itself. Dancing, sure, but with one foot in a dream. There is the always emerging crackling, surrounding the arriving and surrounding what has been, floating, like almost absent into each other collapsing chords, circling around a sphere which is nearly beyond the music – a sphere that only pertains me, the listener, and which I hadn't known without this music. And these like seagulls chopping hi-hats, or like a heavy sea beating bass lines, rolling back and forth in almost oblique of beauty hanging clearings. A FOREST, for example, casts somewhat Tejada-esque shadows but without the timpani, only with meandering delay. And yes you do remember the sunlight of tomorrow when you hear BLIND or FIELD. Or SIGNALS, a track on which Arvo Pärt could have been the force behind and whose Tintinnabuli (bell) style connects on it with the dance floor in the most beautiful way. Not only raises it the volume, but also warms the heart.