Down-tempo ambient drones craft their way around warmed up birdsong and spoken word to introduce this expedition of sound. The slow pace makes listening a pleasure, but leaves our focus available for other things. Rather than taking hold of our senses and chucking them in a room of their design we're quietly (or loudly depending) ushered along a gentle path of notation and atmosphere. Pressing down the keys of the synth for as long as possible before adapting the scope to fit something else can be boring. Luckily, that's only the half of it for Cousin Silas, as the work produced makes us pay attention and it keeps us on track.
The space-age and nouveau voice effects merge with warm fuzz to create something a little over static heavy, however this causes the music to fill out at the sides making what would be a simple note fill the space of a band. Harmonics make full use of this too, as the additions come in from different sonic perspectives, creating a dualistic layering effect that crunches through the silence in a relentless slow dance.
The unwavering push of this album could have us hypnotised and sitting staring into our coffee for the duration if we allow it, but it can also happily sit beside us while we get on with things. It takes a while for evolution of the music to make a noticeable change, and perhaps more like nature than we give it credit for, there's nothing rock and roll about this sound. WE are made to sit and wait, relax and enjoy. No discernible rhythm allows us to work and listen at a pace that sits outside the realms of music, but within the soundtrack zone.
Voice synth and eerie strings meld with each other alongside various feedback whistles that creep in from the sides. There are no missing pieces in the minimalist sound, everything is adapted to flesh out the places in which the drums or a moving melody may want to sit. Rather than the busy city, this is a placid country. In total, the room still feels naturally musical but the hectic bustle of more energetic music is left at the door.