OK, first things first. As near as one can tell, this is an "authorized" re-release of the disc which appeared originally on Table of the Elements in 1997. This I derive from the website (www.a-version.co.uk) inscribed on the inner rim of the CD which otherwise offers no information and comes without any booklet or cover art. I'm not familiar with that T of E disc, but I'll take them at their word. The work does, however, fit in nicely with other music I've heard from Lopez, on disc and live, both for its absorbing qualities as well as for its aggravating ones. A few minutes into my first listen, I got up and placed my ears to the speakers to make sure something was issuing from them. It was, however, impossible to discern whether what I thought I might be picking up originated on the disc or was ambient in the room. Now, I have plenty of recordings that are ultra-quiet and some that actually depend on interaction with room noise, but having 15 or so minutes of virtual (possibly actual) silence seemed a bit pass� at this point; we've long since learned our lessons in this field, one would hope. In fact, the very first definitive thing one hears, ten or so minutes in, sounded a lot like a housefly swooping past one of the mics. About nineteen minutes from the start, a low roar finally began to make its presence known and gradually swelled into the kind of soundfield in which Lopez has made his name: basically the aural sensation of standing inside a jet engine. This makes one go back and reconsider his opening gambit. Perhaps he simply wanted the listener to engage the disc and eventually forget that it was on, experiencing the onrush of sound as a kind of surprise emerging from nowhere. This audible portion of the disc is dense and sonically fascinating, chock full of detail while essentially remaining implacable and indifferent. It's almost as though one has been on a silent conveyor belt ride through the heart of a mountain, only to emerge for a whilein the seething cauldron at its center, your passing effecting its operation not in the slightest. Lopez constructs these environments as well as anyone, never bending to intuitive vagaries but instead choosing a specific sonic slice and working it, like extracting ore from a rich vein. The volume slowly increases to speaker-threatening dimensions, always maintaining a high level of interest even though it's otherwise unchanged, until abruptly disappearing in its entirety at the 37:45 mark. After that, another dozen or so minutes of pure silence. Aside from shattering my conveyor belt scenario (unless the belt led directly into the heart of the inferno and this is now "what comes after"), this silence is rather incongruous and annoying. At best, it would seem Lopez is portentously asking us to appreciate the difference between so-called noise and so-called silence. Yes, yes, we've been there; he's not the first (not nearly) or only musician interested in this area. So, one is left with something of an aggravated feeling of being talked down to. The meat that's on this bone is real savory but there may be a bit more bone than many listeners will want to gnaw on.